_Sir Per._ In what manner? Lord, Maister Sidney, how can you be so dull?
Why, how is any man cured of his love till a wench, but by ganging to bed
till her? Now do you understand me?

_Sid._ Perfectly, sir--perfectly.

_Sir Per._ Vary weel.--Now then, my very guid friend, guin you wou'd but
give him that hint, and take an opportunity to speak a guid word for him
till the wench;--and guin you wou'd likewise cast about a little now,--and
contrive to bring them together once,--why, in a few days after he wou'd
nai care a pinch of snuff for her. [Sidney _starts up._] What is the
matter with you, man?--What the devil gars you start and look so
astounded?

_Sid._ Sir, you amaze me.--In what part of my mind or conduct have you
found that baseness, which entitles you to treat me with this indignity?

_Sir Per._ Indignity! What indignity do you mean, sir? Is asking you to
serve a friend with a wench an indignity? Sir, am I not your patron and
benefactor? Ha?

_Sid._ You are, sir, and I feel your bounty at my heart;--but the virtuous
gratitude, that sowed the deep sense of it there, does not inform me that,
in return, the tutor's sacred function, or the social virtue of the man
must be debased into the pupil's pander, or the patron's prostitute.

_Sir Per._ How! what, sir! do you dispute? Are you nai my dependent? ha?
And do you hesitate about an ordinary civility, which is practised every
day by men and women of the first fashion? Sir, let me tell you,--however
nice you may be, there is nai a client about the court that wou'd nai jump