_Har_. I wish I could avoid her, for I suppose we shall have an
alarum.
_Money_. So, so, very fine: always together, always
caterwauling. How like a hangdog he stole off; and it's well for him
he did, for I should have rung such a peal in his ears.--There's a
friend of his at my house would be very glad of his company, and I
wish it was in my power to bring them together.
_Har_. You would not surely be so barbarous.
_Money_. Barbarous! ugh! You whining, puling fool! Hussey, you
have not a drop of my blood in you. What, you are in love, I suppose?
_Har_. If I was, madam, it would be no crime,
_Money_. Yes, madam, but it would, and a folly too. No woman of
sense was ever in love with anything but a man's pocket. What, I
suppose he has filled your head with a pack of romantick stuff of
streams and dreams, and charms and arms. I know this is the stuff they
all run on with, and so run into our debts, and run away with our
daughters. Come, confess; are not you two to live in a wilderness
together on love? Ah! thou fool! thou wilt find he will pay thee in
love just as he has paid me in money. If thou wert resolved to go
a-begging, why did you not follow the camp? There, indeed, you might
have carried a knapsack; but here you will have no knapsack to
carry. There, indeed, you might have had a chance of burying half a
score husbands in a campaign; whereas a poet is a long-lived animal;
you have but one chance of burying him, and that is, starving him.
_Har_. Well, madam, and I would sooner starve with the man I love
than ride in a coach and six with him I hate: and, as for his passion,
you will not make me suspect that, for he hath given me such proofs
on't.
_Money_. Proofs! I shall die. Has he given you proofs of love?
_Har_. All that any modest woman can require.
_Money_. If he has given you all a modest woman can require, I am
afraid he has given you more than a modest woman should take: because
he has been so good a lodger, I suppose I shall have some more of the
family to keep. It is probable I shall live to see half a dozen
grandsons of mine in Grub-street.