_As Townley and Sarsnet enter, Fossile sneaks off._
_Town._ Sarsnet, we are betray'd. I have discovered my husband posted at the door in Hugh's livery, he has intercepted all my letters. I immediately writ this, which is the only thing that can bring us off. Run this moment to Plotwell, get him to copy it, and send it directed to me by his own servant with the utmost expedition. He is now at the chocolate-house in the next street.
_Sars._ I fly, madam; but how will you disengage yourself from the affair with Underplot?
_Town._ Leave it to me. Though he wants sense, he's handsome, and I like the fellow; and if he is lucky enough to come in my husband's absence.----But prithee Sarsenet make haste.
[_Exit Townley and Sarsenet, upon which Fossile re-enters, to him Underplot._]
_Underp._ Harke'e, friend. I never talk with one of your coat, but I first tip him.
_Foss._ Behold the lucre of a pimp! Between the pox abroad, and my plague at home, I find a man may never want fees. [_aside._] Your honour's commands, I pray. I long to serve you.
_Underp._ Ah, boy! thou hast a rare mistress for vails. Come I know thou art a sly dog; can'st thou introduce me to her for a moment's conversation?
_Underp._ Poh, pox. But prithee, friend, by the by, is there any thing in this report that she is marry'd to the doctor here?
_Foss._ I am afraid there is something in it.
_Underp._ What a spirit does a jealous husband give to an intrigue! Pray, is he not a most egregious silly animal?
_Underp._ That will save the expence of her gallants. Old?
_Underp._ How came it into the puppy's head to marry?
_Underp._ I'll help the old fool to an heir.
_Foss._ No doubt on't. If the whole town can do it, he will not want one.
_Underp._ Come, prithee deal freely with me, Has Plotwell been here since the wedding?
_Foss._ He has! too sure: [_aside._] He's a dangerous rival to you; if you have a mind to succeed, keep a strict watch upon him, that he may not get admittance before you.
_Underp._ Well since thou hast shown thyself so much my friend, I'll let thee into a secret. Plotwell and I no sooner heard of the wedding, but we made a bett of a hundred guineas, who should dub the doctor first. Remember you go twenty pieces with me.
