Lov.  ’Tis strange, how I should come by so much money! [Aside.] Has there been nobody about my chamber this morning, landlady?

Boy.  O yes, sir; I forgot to tell you that:  This morning a strange fellow, as ever eyes beheld, would needs come up to you, when you were asleep; but when he came down again, he said, he had not waked you.

Lov.  Sure this fellow, whoe’er he was, was sent by Fortune to mistake me into so much money.—­Well, this is not the first time my necessities have been strangely supplied:  some Cadua or other has a kindness for me, that’s certain:  [Aside.]—­Well, Mons. Bibber, from henceforward I’ll keep my wit for more refined spirits; you shall be paid with dirt;—­there’s money for you.

Bib.  Nay, good sir.

Lov.  What’s your sum? tell it out:  will the money burn your fingers?  Sirrah, boy, fetch my suit with the gold-lace at sleeves, from tribulation.

[Gives him gold.  Exit Boy.] Mr Taylor, I shall turn the better bill-man[A], and knock that little coxcomb of yours, if you do not answer me what I owe you.

[Footnote A:  Alluding to the ancient weapon called the bill; a never-failing source of puns in old plays.]

Bib.  Pray, sir, trouble not yourself; ’tis nothing; i’feck now ’tis not.

Lov.  How nothing, sir?

Fran.  An’t, please your worship, it was seventeen pounds and a noble yesterday at noon, your worship knows:  And then your worship came home ill last night, and complained of your worship’s head; and I sent for three dishes of tea for your good worship, and that was six pence more, and please your worship’s honour.

Lov.  Well; there’s eighteen pieces, tell ’em.

Bib.  I say, Frances, do not take ’em.

Lov, What, is all your pleading of necessity come to this?

Bib.  Now I see he will pay, he shall not pay.  Frances, go home, and fetch him the whole bag of forty pounds; I’ll lend it him, and the lease of the house too; he shall want for nothing.

Lov.  Take the money, or I’ll leave your house.

Bib.  Nay, rather than displease his worship, take it. [She takes it.

Lov.  So, so; go home quietly and suckle my godson, Frances. [Exit FRANCES.

Bib.  If you are for the cellar, sir, you know the way. [Exit BIBBER.

Lov.  No, my first visit shall be to my mistress, the Lady Constance Nonsuch.  She’s discreet, and how the devil she comes to love me, I know not; yet I am pretty confident she loves me.  Well, no woman can be wiser, than you-know-what will give her leave to be.

Enter Lady CONSTANCE, and Madam ISABELLA.

Isa.  Look, look; is not that your servant Loveby?

Lov.  Tis she; there’s no being seen, ’till I am better habited. [Exit LOVEBY.