Enter Sir Rowland, Teresia, and Lady Youthly, &c.
L. Youth. Well, Sir Rowland, if I should be inclin’d to cast away my self on your Son George, what wou’d you settle?
Sir Row. Settle! not a Souse, Madam; he carries the best younger Brother’s Fortune in Christendom about him.
L. Youth. Why, the young Man’s deserving, I confess. But he’s your Son, Sir Rowland, and something ought to be settled upon the Heirs of our Bodies, lawfully begotten.
Sir Row. All Hercules his Labours were a Jig to his that shall beget ’em. Aside.
If you like him upon these terms, to make him Master of your Fortune—
L. Youth. For that, let him trust to me, and his own deservings.
Sir Row. No trusting in these fickle Times, Madam—Why, I’ll let the young sturdy Rogue out to hire; he’ll make a pretty Livelihood at Journey-Work; and shall a Master-Workman, a Husband, deserve nothing?
L. Youth. Ay, these Husbands that know their own Strength, as they say, set so high a value on their conjugal Virtues. And if he be disloyal, again o’t’other side he gives a Wife so ill an Example—for we are all liable to Temptations.
Sir Row. Well said; if thou beest so, it must be the old Tempter himself. Aside.