So, now have at him; here he comes: We'll try if we can pillage the usurer, as he does other folks.
Enter Money-trap.
Mon. Well, my pretty Flippanta, is thy mistress come home?
Flip. Yes, Sir.
Mon. And where is she, pr'ythee?
Flip. Gone abroad, Sir.
Mon. How dost mean?
Flip. I mean right, Sir; my lady'll come home and go abroad ten times in an hour, when she's either in very good humour, or very bad.
Mon. Good lack! But I'll warrant, in general, 'tis her naughty husband that makes her house uneasy to her. But hast thou said a little something to her, chicken, for an expiring lover? ha!
Flip. Said——yes, I have said, much good may it do me.