Sir _Geo._ Why there 'tis now! a Man that wants Money thinks none can be unhappy that has it; but my Affairs are in such a whimsical Posture, that it will require a Calculation of my Nativity to find if my Gold will relieve me or not.
_Cha._ Ha, ha, ha, never consult the Stars about 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?
_Cha._ In Love--Ha, ha, ha, ha; In Love, Ha, ha, ha, with what, prithee, a _Cherubin!_
_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_--
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.