SILV. Ay, but that is no sign; for they say, gentlemen will give money to any naughty woman to come to bed to them. O Gemini, I hope you don't mean so--for I won't be a wh.o.r.e.

HEART. The more is the pity. [_Aside_.]

SILV. Nay, if you would marry me, you should not come to bed to me--you have such a beard, and would so p.r.i.c.kle one. But do you intend to marry me?

HEART. That a fool should ask such a malicious question! Death, I shall be drawn in before I know where I am. However, I find I am pretty sure of her consent, if I am put to it. [_Aside_.] Marry you? No, no, I'll love you.

SILV. Nay, but if you love me, you must marry me. What, don't I know my father loved my mother and was married to her?

HEART. Ay, ay, in old days people married where they loved; but that fashion is changed, child.

SILV. Never tell me that; I know it is not changed by myself: for I love you, and would marry you.

HEART. I'll have my beard shaved, it sha'n't hurt thee, and we'll go to bed--

SILV. No, no, I'm not such a fool neither, but I can keep myself honest.

Here, I won't keep anything that's yours; I hate you now, [_throws the purse_] and I'll never see you again, 'cause you'd have me be naught.

[_Going_.]

HEART. d.a.m.n her, let her go, and a good riddance. Yet so much tenderness and beauty and honesty together is a jewel. Stay, Silvia--But then to marry; why, every man plays the fool once in his life. But to marry is playing the fool all one's life long.

SILV. What did you call me for?

HEART. I'll give thee all I have, and thou shalt live with me in everything so like my wife, the world shall believe it. Nay, thou shalt think so thyself--only let me not think so.

SILV. No, I'll die before I'll be your wh.o.r.e--as well as I love you.

HEART. [_Aside_.] A woman, and ignorant, may be honest, when 'tis out of obstinacy and contradiction. But, s'death, it is but a may be, and upon scurvy terms. Well, farewell then--if I can get out of sight I may get the better of myself.

SILV. Well--good-bye. [_Turns and weeps_.]

HEART. Ha! Nay, come, we'll kiss at parting. [_Kisses her_.] By heaven, her kiss is sweeter than liberty. I will marry thee. There, thou hast done't. All my resolves melted in that kiss--one more.

SILV. But when?

HEART. I'm impatient until it be done; I will not give myself liberty to think, lest I should cool. I will about a licence straight--in the evening expect me. One kiss more to confirm me mad; so.

SILV. Ha, ha, ha, an old fox trapped--

SCENE XI.

[_To her_] LUCY.

Bless me! you frighted me; I thought he had been come again, and had heard me.

LUCY. Lord, madam, I met your lover in as much haste as if he had been going for a midwife.

SILV. He's going for a parson, girl, the forerunner of a midwife, some nine months hence. Well, I find dissembling to our s.e.x is as natural as swimming to a negro; we may depend upon our skill to save us at a plunge, though till then, we never make the experiment. But how hast thou succeeded?

LUCY. As you would wish--since there is no reclaiming Vainlove. I have found out a pique she has taken at him, and have framed a letter that makes her sue for reconciliation first. I know that will do--walk in and I'll show it you. Come, madam, you're like to have a happy time on't; both your love and anger satisfied! All that can charm our s.e.x conspire to please you.

That woman sure enjoys a blessed night, Whom love and vengeance both at once delight.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

SCENE: _The Street_.

BELLMOUR, _in fanatic habit_, SETTER.

BELL. 'Tis pretty near the hour. [_Looking on his watch_.] Well, and how, Setter, hae, does my hypocrisy fit me, hae? Does it sit easy on me?

SET. Oh, most religiously well, sir.

BELL. I wonder why all our young fellows should glory in an opinion of atheism, when they may be so much more conveniently lewd under the coverlet of religion.

SET. S'bud, sir, away quickly: there's Fondlewife just turned the corner, and 's coming this way.

BELL. Gad's so, there he is: he must not see me.

SCENE II.

FONDLEWIFE, BARNABY.

FOND. I say I will tarry at home.

BAR. But, sir.

FOND. Good lack! I profess the spirit of contradiction hath possessed the lad--I say I will tarry at home, varlet.

BAR. I have done, sir; then farewell five hundred pound.

FOND. Ha, how's that? Stay, stay, did you leave word, say you, with his wife? With Comfort herself?

BAR. I did; and Comfort will send Tribulation hither as soon as ever he comes home. I could have brought young Mr. Prig to have kept my mistress company in the meantime. But you say--

FOND. How, how, say, varlet! I say let him not come near my doors. I say, he is a wanton young Levite, and pampereth himself up with dainties, that he may look lovely in the eyes of women. Sincerely, I am afraid he hath already defiled the tabernacle of our sister Comfort; while her good husband is deluded by his G.o.dly appearance. I say that even l.u.s.t doth sparkle in his eyes and glow upon his cheeks, and that I would as soon trust my wife with a lord's high-fed chaplain.

BAR. Sir, the hour draws nigh, and nothing will be done here until you come.