Sir Anth. Charles, Joy, Charles, give you Joy, here’s two substantial
Witnesses.
Clos. I deny it, Sir; I heard no such thing.
Sir Anth. What, what, Mrs. Closet, a Waiting-woman of Honour, and flinch from her Evidence! Gad, I’ll damn thy Soul if thou dar’st swear what thou say’st.
L. Gal. How, upon the Catch, Sir! am I betray’d?
Base and unkind, is this your humble Love?
Is all your whining come to this, false Man?
By Heaven, I’ll be reveng’d.
[She goes out in a Rage with Closet.
Sir Char. Nay, Gad, you’re caught, struggle and flounder as you please,
Sweetheart, you’ll but intangle more; let me alone to tickle your Gills,
i’faith. [Looking after her.—Uncle, get ye home about your Business;
I hope you’ll give me the good morrow, as becomes me—I say no more, a
Word to the Wise—
Sir Anth. By George, thou’rt a brave Fellow; why, I did not think it had been in thee, Man. Well, adieu; I’ll give thee such a good morrow, Charles—the Devil’s in him!—’Bye, Charles—a plaguy Rogue!—’night, Boy—a divine Youth!
[Going and returning, as not able to leave him. Exit.
Sir Char. Gad, I’ll not leave her now, till she is mine;
Then keep her so by constant Consummation.
Let Man o’ God do his, I’ll do my Part,
In spite of all her Fickleness and Art;
There’s one sure way to fix a Widow’s Heart.
[Exit.