Young Fash. I'gad, she'll be in love with him presently; I'll e'en have him sent away to Gaol. [To Lord Fop.] Sir, tho' your Undertaking shews you are a Person of no extraordinary Modesty, I suppose you han't Confidence enough to expect much Favour from me.
Lord Fop. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent Fellow.
Nurse. Look if the Varlet has not the Frontery to call his Lordship plain Thomas.
Bull. The business is, he wou'd feign himself mad, to avoid going to Gaol.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That must be the Chaplain, by his unfolding of Mysteries.
Sir Tun. Come, is the Warrant writ?
Cler. Yes, Sir.
Sir Tun. Give me the Pen, I'll sign it——So now, Constable, away with him.
Lord Fop. Hold one Moment——Pray, Gentlemen; my Lord Foppington, shall I beg one Word with your Lordship?