not run: Thou hast cattle enough in it to carry it down stairs, and
break thy neck; 'tis got a yard nearer the door already.

_Enter Boy_.

_Boy_. Sir, Mr Bibber your tailor's below, and desires to speak
with you.

_Fail_. He's an honest fellow, and a fashionable; he shall set
thee forth, I warrant thee.

_Burr_. Ay; but where's the money for this, dear heart?

_Fail_. Well, but what think you of being put into a suit of
clothes without money? [_Aside_.

_Burr_. You speak of miracles.

_Fail_. Do you not know Will Bibber's humour?

_Burr_. Pr'ythee, what have I to do with his humour?

_Fail_. Break but a jest, and he'll beg to trust thee for a
suit; nay, he will contribute to his own destruction, and give thee
occasions to make one. He has been my artificer these three years;
and, all the while, I have lived upon his favourable apprehension.
Boy, conduct him up. [_Exit Boy._

_Burr_. But what am I the better for this? I ne'er made jest in
all my life.