Wild. Nay, dear Impertinence, no more Complements, you see I’m busy now; prithee be gone, you see I am busy.
Clos. I’m all Obedience to you, Sir—Your most obedient—
L. Gal. Whither are you fisking and giggiting now?
Clos. Madam, I am going down, and will return immediately, immediately. [Exit Clos.
Wild. So, she’s gone; Heaven and broad Gold be prais’d for the Deliverance. And now, dear Widow, let’s lose no more precious time; we have fool’d away too much already.
L. Gal. This to me!
Wild. To you, yes, to whom else should it be? Unless being sensible you have not Discretion enough to manage your own Affairs your self, you resolve like other Widows, with all you’re Worth to buy a Governour, commonly call’d a Husband. I took ye to be wiser; but if that be your Design I shall do my best to serve you—though to deal freely with you—
L. Gal. Trouble not your self, Sir, to make Excuses; I’m not so fond of the Offer to take you at your Word. Marry you! a Rakeshame, who have not Esteem enough for the Sex to believe your Mother honest—without Money or Credit, without Land either in presenter prospect; and half a dozen hungry Vices, like so many bauling Brats at your Back, perpetually craving, and more chargeable to keep than twice the number of Children. Besides, I think you are provided for; are you not married to Mrs. Charlot Gett-all?
Wild. Married to her! Do I know her, you shou’d rather ask. What Fool has forg’d this unlikely Lye? but suppose ‘twere true, cou’d you be jealous of a Woman I marry? Do you take me for such an Ass, to suspect I shall love my own Wife? On the other side, I have a great Charge of Vices, as you well observe, and I must not be so barbarous to let ‘em starve. Every body in this Age takes care to provide for their Vices, though they send their Children a begging; I shou’d be worse than an Infidel to neglect them. No, I must marry some stiff aukward thing or other with an ugly Face, and a handsom Estate, that’s certain: but whoever is ordain’d to make my Fortune, ‘tis you only can make me happy— Come, do it then.
L. Gal. I never will.