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THE TOWN-FOPP: OR Sir TIMOTHY TAWDREY.
ACT. I.
Scene 1. The Street.
HEreabouts is the House wherein dwells, the Mistriss of my heart; For she has money Boyes, mind me, money in abundance, or she were not for me—the Wench her self is good natur'd, and inclin'd to be civil, but a Pox on't—She has a Brother a conceited Fellow, whom the world mistakes for a fine Gentleman, for he has Travell'd, talks Languages, bows with a bone meine, and the rest, but by fortune he shall entertain you with nothing but words—
Nothing else?—
No—He's no Countrey Squire Gentlemen, will not Game, Whore, nay, in my Conscience you will hardly get your selves Drunk in his Company—He Treats A-la-mode, half Wine, half Water, and the rest—But to the business, this Fellow loves his Sister dearly, and will not trust her in this lewd Town, as he calls it, without him, and hither he has brought her to marry me.
A Pox upon him for his pains—
So say I—But my comfort is, I shall be as weary of her, as the best Husband of 'em all—But there's conveniency in it; besides, the match being as good as made up by the old Folks in the Countrey, I must submit—The Wench I never saw yet, but they say she's handsom— But no matter for that, there's Money, my Boyes!