Bon. Ha! my Wife.
Mer. Yes, your Wife, and that he had received Love-Tokens from her.
Bon. How, Love-Token from her!
Mer. Aye, aye, Love-Tokens I call’d ’em when I was a young Man: Nay, the Rogue was so impudent to tell me, that she had given him those Jewels which are lock’d about her Neck; Ha, ha, ha.
Bon. The Jewels about her Neck, said you?
Mer.. Aye, what ails you Man that you change Colour so? ’Tis all a Lie Boy I warrant thee: And hadst thou not come just in the Nick of Time, I think o’ my Conscience I shou’d have cut his Throat.
Bon. As I will your Daughters if I find her false: Death, Hell, and Furies, am I made a Monster already?
Cla. What, Sir, are you return’d for this?
Mer. Hark y’ son, hark you; suppose that this Mr. Friendly shou’d have a secret Inclination to your spouse, d’ ye see; and therefore, by reason he can’t obtain his Desire, possesses you with Jealousy to make a Breach ’twixt you and your Wife. Od’s bobs, I don’t know, I can’t tell what shou’d be the meaning of his carrying you away on your Wedding-Day, else, heh, Son, heh.
Cla. Has the Italian Plague then infected you, that you stand thus unmov’d?