SHARP. Death, it can’t be. An oaf, an idiot, a wittal.
SIR JO. Ay, now it’s out; ’tis I, my own individual person.
SHARP. A wretch that has flown for shelter to the lowest shrub of mankind, and seeks protection from a blasted coward.
SIR JO. That’s you, bully back. [Bluffe frowns upon Sir Joseph.]
SHARP. She has given Vainlove her promise to marry him before to-morrow morning. Has she not? [To Setter.]
SET. She has, sir; and I have it in charge to attend her all this evening, in order to conduct her to the place appointed.
SHARP. Well, I’ll go and inform your master; and do you press her to make all the haste imaginable.
SCENE VII.
Setter, Sir Joseph, Bluffe.
SET. Were I a rogue now, what a noble prize could I dispose of! A goodly pinnace, richly laden, and to launch forth under my auspicious convoy. Twelve thousand pounds and all her rigging, besides what lies concealed under hatches. Ha! all this committed to my care! Avaunt, temptation! Setter, show thyself a person of worth; be true to thy trust, and be reputed honest. Reputed honest! Hum: is that all? Ay; for to be honest is nothing; the reputation of it is all. Reputation! what have such poor rogues as I to do with reputation? ’tis above us; and for men of quality, they are above it; so that reputation is even as foolish a thing as honesty. And, for my part, if I meet Sir Joseph with a purse of gold in his hand, I’ll dispose of mine to the best advantage.