Alex. Your fair young daughter is wife to this Ancient, who is come likewise to witness it.
Wid. The plain truth is, Master Bloodhound, I would entreat you to keep the kennel: the younger dog, being of the better scent, has borne the game before you.
Alex. We have clapped hands on't, sir; and the priest that should have married you to her is to marry her to me: so, sister, talk for yourself.
Blood. Ha, brave tricks and conceits! Can you dance, Master Ear-lack?
Ear. Ha, ha! the old man's a little mad. But thou art not married, Moll?
Moll. Yes, indeed, sir, and will lie with this gentleman soon at night. Do you think I would chew ram-mutton when I might swallow venison? That's none of Venus's documents, Monsieur Dotterel.
Ear. Pox of that Venus! she's a whore, I warrant her.
Blood. And were not you the other juggler with Jarvis in this, hey? pass and repass!
Alex. Good sir, be satisfied; the widow and my sister sung both one song, and what was't, but Crabbed age and youth cannot live together.[105] Now we persuaded them, and they could not live together, they would never endure to lie together; this consequently descended, there was the antecedent: we clapped hands, sealed lips, and so fell unto the relative.
Sim. This was your bargain upon the exchange, sir, and because you have ever been addicted to old proverbs and pithy saws, pray let me seal up the mistake with one that will appear very seasonably.