L. Ful. That’s your fault, Sir, not mine.
Sir Cau. But being so, if I shou’d be good-natur’d, and give thee leave to love discreetly—
L. Ful. I’d do’t without your leave, Sir.
Sir Cau. Do’t—what, cuckold me?
L. Ful. No, love discreetly, Sir, love as I ought, love honestly.
Sir Cau. What, in love with any body, but your own Husband?
L. Ful. Yes.
Sir Cau. Yes, quoth a—is that your loving as you ought?
L. Ful. We cannot help our Inclinations, Sir,
No more than Time, or Light from coming on—
But I can keep my Virtue, Sir, intire.
Sir Cau. What, I’ll warrant, this is your first Love, Gayman?