t that; Gold has a Power
beyond them; Gold unlocks the Midnight Councils; Gold out-does the Wind,
becalms the Ship, or fills her Sails; Gold is omnipotent below; it makes
whole Armies fight, or fly; It buys even Souls, and bribes the Wretches
to betray their Country: Then what can thy Business be, that Gold won't
serve thee in?

Sir _Geo._ Why, I'm in Love.

_Cha._ In Love--Ha, ha, ha, ha; In Love, Ha, ha, ha, with what, prithee,
a _Cherubin!_

Sir _Geo._ No, with a Woman.

_Cha._ A Woman, Good, Ha, ha, ha, and Gold not help thee?

Sir _Geo._ But suppose I'm in Love with two--

_Cha._ Ay, if thou'rt in Love with two hundred, Gold will fetch 'em, I
warrant thee, Boy. But who are they? who are they? come.

Sir _Geo._ One is a Lady, whose Face I never saw, but Witty as an Angel;
the other Beautiful as _Venus_--

_Cha._ And a Fool--

Sir _Geo._ For ought I know, for I never spoke to her, but you can
inform me; I am charm'd by the Wit of One, and dye for the Beauty of the
Other?

_Cha._ And pray, which are you in Quest of now?

Sir _Geo._ I prefer the Sensual Pleasure, I'm for her I've seen, who is
thy Father's Ward _Miranda_.

_Cha._ Nay then, I pity you; for the Jew my Father will no more part
with her, and 30000 Pound, than he wou'd with a Guinea to keep me from
starving.

Sir _Geo._ Now you see Gold can't do every thing, _Charles_.

_Cha._ Yes, for 'tis her Gold that bars my Father's Gate against you.

Sir _Geo._ Why, if he is this avaricious Wretch, how cam'st thou by such
a Liberal Education?

_Cha._ Not a Souse out of his Pocket, I assure you; I had an Uncle who
defray'd that Charge, but for some litte Wildnesses of Youth, tho' he
made me his Heir, left Dad my Guardian till I came to Years of
Discretion, which I presume the old Gentleman will never think I am; and
now he has got the Estate into his Clutches, it does me no more good,
than if it lay in _Prester John_'s Dominions.

Sir _Geo._ What can'st thou find no Stratagem to redeem it?

_Cha._ I have made many Essays to no purpose; tho' Want, the Mistress of
Invention, still tempts me on, yet still the old Fox is too cunning for
me--I am upon my last Project, which if it fails, then for my last
Refuge, a Brown Musquet.

Sir _Geo._ What is't, can I assist thee?

_Cha._ Not yet, when you can, I have Confidence enough in you to ask it.

Sir _Geo._ I am always ready, but what do's he intend to do with
_Miranda?_ Is she to be sold in private?