Money. Well, Mr Luckless, you are a comical man, to give one such a character to a stranger.
Luck. The company is gone, madam; and now, like true man and wife, we may fall to abusing one another as fast as we please.
Money. Abuse me as you please, so you pay me, sir.
Luck. 'Sdeath! madam, I will pay you.
Money. Nay, sir, I do not ask it before it is due. I don't question your payment at all: if you was to stay in my house this quarter of a year, as I hope you will, I should not ask you for a farthing.
Luck. Toll, loll, loll.—But I shall have her begin with her passion immediately; and I had rather be the object of her rage for a year than of her love for half an hour.
Money. But why did you choose to surprise me with my money? Why did you not tell me you would pay me?
Luck. Why, have I not told you?
Money. Yes, you told me of a play, and stuff: but you never told me you would order a gentleman to pay me. A sweet, pretty, good-humoured gentleman he is, heaven bless him! Well, you have comical ways with you: but you have honesty at the bottom, and I'm sure the gentleman himself will own I gave you that character.
Luck. Oh! I smell you now.—You see, madam, I am better than my word to you: did he pay it you in gold or silver?