Sir Fran. Stay, Charles, I have a sudden Thought come into my Head, may prove to thy Advantage.
Char. Ha, does he Relent?
Sir Fran. My Lady Wrinkle, worth Forty Thousand Pound, sets up for a Handsome young Husband; she prais'd thee t'other Day; tho' the Match-makers can get Twenty Guinea's for a sight of her, I can introduce thee for nothing.
Char. My Lady Wrinkle, Sir, why she has but one Eye.
Sir Fran. Then she'll see but half your Extravagance, Sir.
Char. Condemn me to such a piece of Deformity! Toothless, Dirty, Wry-neck'd, Hunch-back'd Hag.
Sir Fran. Hunch-back'd! so much the better, then she has a Rest for her Misfortunes; for thou wilt Load her swingingly. Now I warrant you think, this is no Offer of a Father; Forty Thousand Pound is nothing with you.
Char. Yes, Sir, I think it is too much; a young Beautiful Woman with half the Money wou'd be more agreeable. I thank you, Sir; but you Chose better for your self, I find.
Sir Fran. Out of my Doors, you Dog; you pretend to meddle with my Marriage, Sirrah.
Char. Sir, I obey: But—