Capt. Very good.
Par. Dear Mistress Wanton, you have won my heart, and I shall live to doat upon you for abusing this impetuous captain. Will you listen to my old suit? will you marry me, and vex him? say, dare you do't without more dispute?
Capt. 'Twas a good question; she that dares marry thee, dares do anything: she may as safely lie with the great bell upon her, and his clapper is less dangerous than thine.
Wan. Why, I pray?
Capt. What a miserable condition wilt thou come to? his wife cannot be an honest woman; and if thou shouldst turn honest, would it not vex thee to be chaste and poxed[197]—a saint without a nose? what calendar will admit thee by[198] an incurable slave that's made of rogue's flesh? consider that.
Wan. Why, that's something yet; thou hast nothing but a few scars and a little old fame to trust to; and that scarce thatches your head.
Capt. Nay, then I see thou art base, and this plot not accident. And now I do not grudge him thee; go together, 'tis pity to part you, whore and parson, as consonant——
Wan. As whore and captain.
Capt. Take her, I'll warrant her a breeder. I'll prophesy she shall lie with thy whole congregation, and bring an heir to thy parish; one that thou may'st enclose the common by his title, and recover it by common law.