ILF. Know your seasons: besides, I am not of that species for you to instruct. Then know your seasons.
BAR. 'Sfoot, friends, friends, all friends; here comes young Scarborow.
Should he know of this, all our designs were prevented.
Enter SCARBOROW.
ILF. What! melancholy, my young master, my young married man? God give your worship joy.
SCAR. Joy of what, Frank?
ILF. Of thy wealth, for I hear of few that have joy of their wives.
SCAR. Who weds as I have to enforced sheets,
His care increaseth, but his comfort fleets.
ILF. Thou having so much wit, what a devil meant'st thou to marry?
SCAR. O, speak not of it,
Marriage sounds in mine ear like a bell,
Not rung for pleasure, but a doleful knell.
ILF. A common course: those men that are married in the morning to wish themselves buried ere night.