Beau. Nay, sir, I have a hank[58] upon you; there are laws for cut-throats, sir; and as you tender your future credit, take this wronged lady home, and use her handsomely, use her like my mistress, sir, do you mark me? that when we think fit to meet again, I hear no complaint of you; this must be done, friend.
Sir Jol. In troth, and it is but reasonable, very reasonable in troth.
L. Dunce. Can you, my dear, forgive me one misfortune?
Sir Dav. Madam, in one word, I am thy ladyship's most humble servant and cuckold, Sir Davy Dunce, knight, living in Covent-garden; ha, ha, ha! well, this is mighty pretty, ha, ha, ha!
Enter Sylvia, followed by Courtine.
Sylv. Sir Jolly, ah, Sir Jolly, protect me or I'm ruined.
Sir Jol. My little minikin, is it thy squeak?
Beau. My dear Courtine, welcome.
Sir Jol. Well, child, and what would that wicked fellow do to thee, child? Ha! child, child, what would he do to thee?
Sylv. Oh, sir, he has most inhumanly seduced me out of my uncle's house, and threatens to marry me.