Gay. You catechise me roundly—’tis not fair to name, but I am no Starter, Harry; just as you left me, you find me. I am for the faithless Julia still, the old Alderman’s Wife.—’Twas high time the City should lose their Charter, when their Wives turn honest: But pray, Sir, answer me a Question or two.
Bel. Answer me first, what makes you here this Morning?
Gay. Faith, to do you service. Your damn’d little Jade of a Mistress has learned of her Neighbours the Art of Swearing and Lying in abundance, and is—
Bel. To be married! [Sighing.
Gay. Even so, God save the Mark; and she’ll be a fair one for many an Arrow besides her Husband’s, though he an old Finsbury Hero this threescore Years.
Bel. Who mean you?
Gay. Why, thy Cuckold that shall be, if thou be’st wise.
Bel. Away; Who is this Man? thou dalliest with me.
Gay. Why, an old Knight, and Alderman here o’th’ City, Sir Feeble Fainwou’d, a jolly old Fellow, whose Activity is all got into his Tongue, a very excellent Teazer; but neither Youth nor Beauty can grind his Dudgeon to an Edge.
Bel. Fie, what Stuff’s here!