Sir Cred. Nay, bright Lady, I am as little discourag’d as another, but I’m sorry I gave so extraordinary a Serenade to so little purpose.
L. Kno. Name it no more, ’twas only a Gallantry mistaken; but I’ll accelerate your Felicity, and to morrow shall conclude the great dispute, since there is such Volubility and Vicissitude in mundane Affairs. Goes out.
Enter Lodwick, stays Sir Credulous as he is going out the other way.
Lod. Sir Credulous, whither away so fast?
Sir Cred. Zoz, what a Question’s there? dost not know I am to unty the Virgin Zone to morrow, that is, barter Maiden-heads with thy Sister, that is, to be married to her, Man, and I must to Lincolns-Inn to my Counsel about it?
Lod. My Sister just now told me of it; but, Sir, you must not stir.
Sir Cred. Why, what’s the matter?
Lod. Have you made your Will?
Sir Cred. My Will! no, why my Will, Man?
Lod. Then, for the good of your Friends and Posterity, stir not from this place.