Love. Why, you will not be uncivil! You will not force me, will you? As I live, I will not.
Jolly. Nay, an' you be wilful, I can be stubborn too.
[He pulls still.
Love. Hang me, I'll call aloud. Why, Nan! Nay, you may force me; but, as I live, I'll do nothing.
[Exeunt ambo.
SCENE II.
Enter Captain.
Capt. A pox upon you, are you earthed? The rogue has got her necklace of pearl; but I hope he will leave the rope to hang me in. How the pox came they so great? I must have some trick to break his neck, else the young rogue will work me out. 'Tis an excellent old lady, but I dare not call her so: yet would she were young enough to bear, we might do some good for our heirs, by leaving such a charitable brood behind. She's a woman after the first kind; 'tis but going into her, and you may know her. Then she'll oblige so readily, and gives with greater thanks than others receive; takes it so kindly to be courted. I am now to oblige her (as she calls it) by professing young Wild's love, and desiring an assurance she's sensible of his sufferings; which though it be false and beyond my commission, yet the hopes of such a new young thing, that has the vogue of the town for handsomest, 'twill so tickle her age, and so blow up her vanity, to have it said he is in love with her, and so endear her to me for being the means, that the parson's malice will be able to take no root. She comes: I must not be seen.
Enter Loveall and Jolly.
Love. Give me that letter; I'll swear you shall not read it.