hope I shall find the effects on't.
_Lord Fop_. Why, do you then really think it a reasonable
thing, that I should give you five hundred paunds?
_Fash_. I do not ask it as a due, brother; I am willing to
receive it as a favour.
_Lord Fop_. Then thou art willing to receive it anyhow,
strike me speechless! But these are damned times to give money
in; taxes are so great, repairs so exorbitant, tenants such
rogues, and bouquets so dear, that the devil take me I'm reduced
to that extremity in my cash, I have been forced to retrench in
that one article of sweet pawder, till I have brought it down to
five guineas a maunth--now judge, Tam, whether I can spare you
five paunds.
_Fash_. If you can't I must starve, that's all.--
[_Aside_.] Damn him!
_Lord Fop_. All I can say is, you should have been a better
husband.
_Fash_. Ouns! if you can't live upon ten thousand a year,
how do you think I should do't upon two hundred?
_Lord Fop_. Don't be in a passion, Tam, for passion is the
most unbecoming thing in the waurld--to the face. Look you, I
don't love to say anything to you to make you melancholy, but
upon this occasion I must take leave to put you in mind that a
running horse does require more attendance than a coach-horse.
Nature has made some difference twixt you and me.
_Fash_. Yes--she has made you older.--[_Aside_.] Plague
take her.
_Lord Fop_. That is not all, Tam.
_Fash_. Why, what is there else?
_Lord Fop. [_Looks first on himself and then on his