Dick. I intended this very day to propose to Flippanta, the carrying her off: and I'm sure the young houswife wou'd have tuck'd up her coats, and have march'd.
Brass. Ay, with the body and the soul of her.
Dick. Why then, what damn'd luck is this?
Brass. 'Tis your damn'd luck, not mine: I have always seen it in your ugly phiz, in spite of your powder'd perriwig——pox take ye——he'll be hang'd at last. Why don't you try to get her off yet?
Dick. I have no money, you dog; you know you have stript me of every penny.
Brass. Come, damn it. I'll venture one cargo more upon your rotten bottom: But if ever I see one glance of your hempen fortune again, I'm off of your partnership for ever——I shall never thrive with him.
Dick. An impudent rogue, but he's in possession of my estate, so I must bear with him.
[Aside.
Brass. Well, come, I'll raise a hundred pounds for your use, upon my wife's jewels here; [Pulling out the necklace.] her necklace shall pawn for't.
Dick. Remember tho', that if things fail, I'm to have the necklace again; you know you agreed to that.