Sir Cred. A pretty civil way this to rob a Man.—Why, Lodwick,—why, what a Pox, will they have no mercy?—Zoz, I’ll see how far they’ll drive the Jest. Gives the Gold and bows, and scrapes and screws.
Lod. Say you so, Sir? well I’ll see what may be done.—Sister, behold him, and take pity on him; he has but one more humble request to make you, ’tis to receive a Gold Watch which he designs you from himself.
Sir Cred. Why, how long has this Fellow been a Conjurer? for he does deal with the Devil, that’s certain,—Lodwick— Pulls him.
Lod. Ay do, speak and spoil all, do.
Sir Cred. Speak and spoil all, quoth he! and the Duce take me if I am not provok’d to’t; why, how the Devil should he light slap-dash, as they say, upon every thing thus? Well, Zoz, I’m resolv’d to give it her, and shame her if she have any Conscience in her. Gives his Watch with pitiful Grimaces.
Lod. Now, Sister, you must know there’s a Mystery in this Watch, ’tis a kind of Hieroglyphick that will instruct you how a Married Woman of your Quality ought to live.
Sir Cred. How, my Watch Mysteries and Hieroglyphicks! the Devil take me, if I knew of any such Virtues it had. They are all looking on the Watch.
Lod. [Beginning at Eight], from which down to Twelve you ought to imploy in dressing, till Two at Dinner, till Five in Visits, till Seven at the Play, till Nine i’th’ Park, Ten at Supper with your Lover, if your Husband be [not] at home, or keep his distance, which he’s too well bred not to do; then from Ten to Twelve are the happy Hours [the Bergere], those of intire Enjoyment.—
Sir Cred. Say you so? hang me if I shall not go near to think I may chance to be a Cuckold by the shift.
Isab. Well, Sir, what must she do from Twelve till Eight again?