Mer. Yes, I have one thank Heaven! You wou’d be glad Sister you cou’d say so, but your Barrenness does give your Husband leave (if he please) to look for Game elsewhere.
Mrs. Ven. Well, well Sir, thô you jeer me, and make a scorn of my Sterility—
Mer. No, no, not I Sister, I scorn not your Sterility, nor your Husbands Virility neither.
Mrs. Ven. My Husband’s Virility! Pray spare my Husband; for he has not been so idle as you imagin; He may have an—Offspring abroad for ought you know, that you never heard of.
Mr. Ven. Oh fye Wife, You will not make it publick will you?
Mrs. Ven. And yet he keeps himself within compass for all that.
Mr. Ven. If you love me Winny—
Mrs. Ven. Na, I say no more, but thereby hangs a Tale.
Mer. Say’st thou so old Girle? What and has he been stragling then? Nay; nay I know he is a Ventersome Man; And a—Merchant of small Wares sometimes, especially when he can get a good Commodity: I love him the better for’t I’faith, Ods bobs I do—A notable spark with a Young Wench in a corner, Is he not? A true Chip of the old block, his Father I warrant him—But Sister, I have something to say to you in private, concerning my Daughter.