Guz. If I do’t not, send me to the Galleys; nay, and so far cure the Jealousy of the old Fellow, that from a rigid suspicious troublesom Fool, he shall become so tame and gentle a Husband,—that he shall desire you to favour him so much as to lie with his dear Wife.
Car. By what strange Witchcraft shall this be brought to pass?
Guz. E’en honest Invention, Sir, good Faith, listen and believe:—When he goes, he certainly goes by Sea, to save the charges of Mules.
Ant. Right, I heard him say so; in the Galley that lies in the Port.
Guz. Good, there is a Galley also, in the Harbour, you lately took from the Turks; Habits too were taken in her enough to furnish out some forty or fifty as convenient Turks as a man wou’d wish at the Devil.
Car. Ah, Rogue, I begin to apprehend already.
Guz. Our Turkish Galley thus man’d, I’ll put to Sea, and about a League from Land, with a sham-fight set on that of Old Francisco, take it, make ‘em all Slaves, clap the Old Fellow under hatches, and then you may deal with the fair Slave his Wife, as Adam did with Eve.
Car. I’m ravish’d with the thought.
Ant. But what will be the event of this?
Car. I will not look so far, but stop at the dear Joys, and fear no Fate beyond ‘em.