VALENTINE, SCANDAL, JEREMY.

JERE. O sir, there's Trapland the scrivener, with two suspicious fellows like lawful pads, that would knock a man down with pockettipstaves. And there's your father's steward, and the nurse with one of your children from Twitnam.

VAL. Pox on her, could she find no other time to fling my sins in my face? Here, give her this, [gives money] and bid her trouble me no more; a thoughtless two-handed whore, she knows my condition well enough, and might have overlaid the child a fortnight ago, if she had had any forecast in her.

SCAN. What, is it bouncing Margery, with my godson?

JERE. Yes, sir.

SCAN. My blessing to the boy, with this token [gives money] of my love. And d'ye hear, bid Margery put more flocks in her bed, shift twice a week, and not work so hard, that she may not smell so vigorously. I shall take the air shortly.

VAL. Scandal, don't spoil my boy's milk. Bid Trapland come in. If I can give that Cerberus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day.