Ver. Do you think she is there then?
Sir Dav. No, I do not think she is there neither; but such a thing may be, you know: would that Barn-Elms was under water too! there's a thousand cuckolds a year made at Barn-Elms by Rosamond's Ponds:[40] the devil! if she should be there this evening my heart's broke.
Enter Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol. That must be Sir Davy; ay, that's he, that's he, ha, ha, ha; was ever the like heard of? was ever anything so pleasant?
Sir Dav. I'll lock her up three days and three nights without meat, drink, or light; I'll humble her in the devil's name.
Sir Jol. Well, could I but meet my friend Sir Davy, it would be the joyfullest news for him—
Sir Dav. Who's there that has anything to say to me?
Sir Jol. Ah, my friend of friends, such news, such tidings!
Sir Dav. I have lost my wife, man.
Sir Jol. Lost her! she's not dead, I hope?