FOND. And nothing can be done here until I go; so that I'll tarry, de'e see.

BAR. And run the hazard to lose your affair, sir!

FOND. Good lack, good lack--I profess it is a very sufficient vexation for a man to have a handsome wife.

BAR. Never, sir, but when the man is an insufficient husband. 'Tis then, indeed, like the vanity of taking a fine house, and yet be forced to let lodgings to help pay the rent.

FOND. I profess a very apt comparison, varlet. Go and bid my c.o.c.ky come out to me; I will give her some instructions, I will reason with her before I go.

SCENE III.

FONDLEWIFE _alone_.

And in the meantime I will reason with myself. Tell me, Isaac, why art thee jealous? Why art thee distrustful of the wife of thy bosom? Because she is young and vigorous, and I am old and impotent. Then why didst thee marry, Isaac? Because she was beautiful and tempting, and because I was obstinate and doting; so that my inclination was (and is still) greater than my power. And will not that which tempted thee, also tempt others, who will tempt her, Isaac? I fear it much. But does not thy wife love thee, nay, dote upon thee? Yes. Why then! Ay, but to say truth, she's fonder of me than she has reason to be; and in the way of trade, we still suspect the smoothest dealers of the deepest designs. And that she has some designs deeper than thou canst reach, thou hast experimented, Isaac. But, mum.

SCENE IV.

FONDLEWIFE, LAEt.i.tIA.

LAET. I hope my dearest jewel is not going to leave me--are you, Nykin?

FOND. Wife--have you thoroughly considered how detestable, how heinous, and how crying a sin the sin of adultery is? Have you weighed it, I say?

For it is a very weighty sin; and although it may lie heavy upon thee, yet thy husband must also bear his part. For thy iniquity will fall upon his head.

LAET. Bless me, what means my dear?

FOND. [_Aside_.] I profess she has an alluring eye; I am doubtful whether I shall trust her, even with Tribulation himself. Speak, I say, have you considered what it is to cuckold your husband?

LAET. [_Aside_.] I'm amazed. Sure he has discovered nothing. Who has wronged me to my dearest? I hope my jewel does not think that ever I had any such thing in my head, or ever will have.

FOND. No, no, I tell you I shall have it in my head--

LAET. [_Aside_.] I know not what to think. But I'm resolved to find the meaning of it. Unkind dear! Was it for this you sent to call me? Is it not affliction enough that you are to leave me, but you must study to increase it by unjust suspicions? [_Crying_.] Well--well--you know my fondness, and you love to tyrannise--Go on, cruel man, do: triumph over my poor heart while it holds, which cannot be long, with this usage of yours. But that's what you want. Well, you will have your ends soon.

You will--you will. Yes, it will break to oblige you. [_Sighs_.]

FOND. Verily, I fear I have carried the jest too far. Nay, look you now if she does not weep--'tis the fondest fool. Nay, c.o.c.ky, c.o.c.ky, nay, dear c.o.c.ky, don't cry, I was but in jest, I was not, if.e.c.k.

LAET. [_Aside_.] Oh then, all's safe. I was terribly frighted. My affliction is always your jest, barbarous man! Oh, that I should love to this degree! Yet--

FOND. Nay, c.o.c.ky.

LAET. No, no, you are weary of me, that's it--that's all, you would get another wife--another fond fool, to break her heart--Well, be as cruel as you can to me, I'll pray for you; and when I am dead with grief, may you have one that will love you as well as I have done: I shall be contented to lie at peace in my cold grave--since it will please you. [_Sighs_.]

FOND. Good lack, good lack, she would melt a heart of oak--I profess I can hold no longer. Nay, dear c.o.c.ky--if.e.c.k, you'll break my heart--if.e.c.k you will. See, you have made me weep--made poor Nykin weep. Nay, come kiss, buss poor Nykin--and I won't leave thee--I'll lose all first.

LAET. [_Aside_.] How! Heaven forbid! that will be carrying the jest too far indeed.

FOND. Won't you kiss Nykin?

LAET. Go, naughty Nykin, you don't love me.

FOND. Kiss, kiss, if.e.c.k, I do.

LAET. No, you don't. [_She kisses him_.]

FOND. What, not love c.o.c.ky!

LAET. No-h. [_Sighs_.]

FOND. I profess I do love thee better than five hundred pound--and so thou shalt say, for I'll leave it to stay with thee.

LAET. No you sha'n't neglect your business for me. No, indeed, you sha'n't, Nykin. If you don't go, I'll think you been dealous of me still.

FOND. He, he, he, wilt thou, poor fool? Then I will go, I won't be dealous. Poor c.o.c.ky, kiss Nykin, kiss Nykin, ee, ee, ee. Here will be the good man anon, to talk to c.o.c.ky and teach her how a wife ought to behave herself.

LAET. [_Aside_.] I hope to have one that will show me how a husband ought to behave himself. I shall be glad to learn, to please my jewel.

[_Kiss_.]

FOND. That's my good dear. Come, kiss Nykin once more, and then get you in. So--get you in, get you in. Bye, bye.

LAET. Bye, Nykin.

FOND. Bye, c.o.c.ky.

LAET. Bye, Nykin.

FOND. Bye, c.o.c.ky, bye, bye.

SCENE V.

VAINLOVE, SHARPER.

SHARP. How! Araminta lost!

VAIN. To confirm what I have said, read this. [_Gives a letter_.]

SHARP. [_Reads_.] Hum, hum! And what then appeared a fault, upon reflection seems only an effect of a too powerful pa.s.sion. I'm afraid I give too great a proof of my own at this time. I am in disorder for what I have written. But something, I know not what, forced me. I only beg a favourable censure of this and your ARAMINTA.

SHARP. Lost! Pray heaven thou hast not lost thy wits. Here, here, she's thy own, man, signed and sealed too. To her, man--a delicious melon, pure and consenting ripe, and only waits thy cutting up: she has been breeding love to thee all this while, and just now she's delivered of it.

VAIN. 'Tis an untimely fruit, and she has miscarried of her love.

SHARP. Never leave this d.a.m.ned ill-natured whimsey, Frank? Thou hast a sickly, peevish appet.i.te; only chew love and cannot digest it.