MRS. COUPLER.
So! I am likely to be well rewarded for my services, truly; my suspicions, I find, were but too just. What! refuse to advance me a petty sum, when I am upon the point of making him master of a galleon! but let him look to the consequences; an ungrateful, narrow-minded coxcomb.
TOM FASHION.
So he is, upon my soul, old lady; it must be my brother you speak of.
MRS. COUPLER.
Ha! stripling, how came you here? What, hast spent all, eh? And art thou come to dun his lordship for assistance?
TOM FASHION.
No, I want somebody’s assistance to cut his lordship’s throat, without the risk of being hanged for him.
MRS. COUPLER.
Egad, sirrah, I could help thee to do him almost as good a turn, without the danger of being burned in the hand for’t.
TOM FASHION.
How—how, old mischief?
MRS. COUPLER.
Why, you must know I have done you the kindness to make up a match for your brother.
TOM FASHION.
I am very much beholden to you, truly!
MRS. COUPLER.
You may be before the wedding-day, yet: the lady is a great heiress, the match is concluded, the writings are drawn, and his lordship is come hither to put the finishing hand to the business.
TOM FASHION.
I understand as much.