VALENTINE, SCANDAL, JEREMY.
O sir, there's Trapland the scrivener, with two suspicious
fellows like lawful pads, that would knock a man down with pocket-
tipstaves. And there's your father's steward, and the nurse with
one of your children from Twitnam.
Pox on her, could she find no other time to fling my sins in
my face? Here, give her this, [gives money] and bid her trouble me
no more; a thoughtless two-handed whore, she knows my condition well
enough, and might have overlaid the child a fortnight ago, if she
had had any forecast in her.
What, is it bouncing Margery, with my godson?
My blessing to the boy, with this token [gives money] of my
love. And d'ye hear, bid Margery put more flocks in her bed, shift
twice a week, and not work so hard, that she may not smell so
vigorously. I shall take the air shortly.
Scandal, don't spoil my boy's milk. Bid Trapland come in. If
I can give that Cerberus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day.