Short. Why, I understand that I have had above a hundred pounds due to me a year ago; that I came, by appointment, just now to receive it: that it proved at last to be but thirty instead of a hundred and ten; and that while the steward was telling even that out, and I was writing the receipt, comes Mrs. Pop here, and the money was gone. But I'll be banter'd no longer if there's law in England. Say no more, Short-yard.
[Exit.
Trus. What a passion the poor devil's in!
Lady Ara. Why truly one can't deny but he has some present cause to be a little in ill-humour, but when one has things of greater consequence on foot, one can't trouble one's self about making such creatures easy; so call for breakfast, Trusty, and set the hazard-table ready; if there comes no company I'll play a little by myself.
Enter Lord Loverule.
Lord Love. Pray what offence, Madam, have you given to a man I met with just as I came in?
Lady Ara. People who are apt to take offence, do it for small matters, you know.
Lord Love. I shall be glad to find this so; but he says you have owed him above a hundred pounds this twelvemonth; that he has been here forty times by appointment for it, to no purpose; and that coming here this morning upon positive assurance from yourself, he was trick'd out of the money, while he was writing a receipt for it, and sent away without a farthing.
Lady Ara. Lord, how these shopkeepers will lye!
Lord Love. What then is the business? for some ground the man must have to be in such a passion.