Enter Sir_ Charles Meriwill and Sir Anthony, Sir
Charles drunk.
Sir Anth. A Dog, a Rogue, to leave her!
Sir Char. Why, look ye, Uncle, what wou’d you have a Man do? I brought her to her Coach—
Sir Anth. To her Coach! to her Coach! Did not I put her into your Hand, follow’d you out, wink’d, smil’d and nodded; cry’d ‘bye Charles, ‘bye Rogue; which was as much as to say, Go home with her, Charles, home to her Chamber, Charles; nay, as much as to say, Home to her Bed, Charles; nay, as much as to say—Hum, hum, a Rogue, a Dog, and yet to be modest too! That I shou’d bring thee up with no more Fear of God before thy Eyes!
Sir Char. Nay, dear Uncle, don’t break my Heart now! Why, I did proffer, and press, and swear, and ly’d, and—but a pox on her, she has the damn’dst wheedling way with her, as dear Charles, nay prithee, fie, ’.is late, to morrow, my Honour, which if you lov’d you wou’d preserve; and such obliging Reasons.
Sir Anth. Reasons! Reason! a Lover, and talk of Reason! You lye, Sirrah, you lye. Leave a Woman for Reason, when you were so finely drunk too, a Rascal!
Sir Char. Why look ye, d’ye see, Uncle, I durst not trust my self alone with her in this pickle, lest I shou’d ha’ fallen foul on her.
Sir Anth. Why, there’s it; ‘tis that you shou’d have done; I am mistaken if she be not one of those Ladies that love to be ravisht of a Kindness. Why, your willing Rape is all the Fashion, Charles.
Sir Char. But hark ye, Uncle.
Sir Anth. Why, how now, Jack-sauce, what, capitulate?