Dap. And the most insatiable one I ever knew, madam; I dare not stand your fury longer.—Mr. Ranger, I will go before and make a new appointment with your friends that expect you at dinner at the French-house; 'tis fit business still wait on love.
Ran. Do so—but now I think on't, Sir Thomas goes out of town this afternoon, and I shall not see him here again these three months.
Lyd. Nay, pray take him with you, sir.
L. Flip. No, sir, you shall not take the gentleman from his mistress.—[Aside to Dapperwit.] Do not go yet, sweet Mr. Dapperwit.
Lyd. Take him with you, sir; I suppose his business may be there to borrow or win money, and I ought not to be his hindrance: for when he has none, he has his desperate designs upon that little I have;—for want of money makes as devout lovers as Christians.
Dap. I hope, madam, he offers you no less security than his liberty.
Lyd. His liberty is as poor a pawn to take up money on as honour. He is like the desperate bankrupts of this age, who, if they can get people's fortunes into their hands, care not though they spend them in jail all their lives.
L. Flip. And the poor crediting ladies, when they have parted with their money, must be contented with a pitiful composition, or starve, for all them.
Ran. But widows are commonly so wise as to be sure their men are solvable before they trust 'em.
L. Flip. Can you blame 'em! I declare I will trust no man. Pray, do not take it ill, gentlemen: quacks in their bills, and poets in the titles of their plays, do not more disappoint us, than gallants with their promises; but I trust none.