Kite. Nay, sir, I must whisper that—Mrs. Sylvia.
Plume. Sylvia! generous creature!
Wor. Sylvia! impossible!
Kite. Here are the guineas, sir—I took the gold as part of my wife's portion. Nay, farther, sir, she sent word the child should be taken all imaginable care of, and that she intended to stand godmother. The same footman, as I was coming to you with this news, called after me, and told me, that his lady would speak to me—I went, and upon hearing that you were come to town, she gave me half a guinea for the news, and ordered me to tell you, that Justice Balance, her father, who is just come out of the country, would be glad to see you.
Plume. There's a girl for you, Worthy!—Is there any thing of woman in this? no, 'tis noble, generous, manly friendship. Show me another woman that would lose an inch of her prerogative that way, without tears, fits, and reproaches. The common jealousy of her sex, which is nothing but their avarice of pleasure, she despises, and can part with the lover, though she dies for the man—Come, Worthy—where's the best wine? for there I'll quarter.
Wor. At Horton's.
Plume. Let's away, then.—Mr. Kite, go to the lady, with my humble service, and tell her, I shall only refresh a little, and wait upon her.
Wor. Hold, Kite—have you seen the other recruiting captain?
Kite. No, sir; I'd have you to know I don't keep such company.
Plume. Another! who is he?