Jolly. Which, upon my conscience, they will.
Capt. As you hope, else you are laughed at for missing the widow. Ned, follow my counsel; appear at her chamber-window in thy shirt, and salute all that passes by. Let me alone to give it out, and invite company, and provide dinner; then, when the business is known, and I have presented all your friends at court with ribands, she must consent, or her honour is lost, if you have but the grace to swear it, and keep your own counsel.
Care. By this hand, he has reason, and I'll undertake the widow.
Wild. It will incense them, and precipitate the business, which is in a fair way now; and if they have wit, they must hate us for such a treachery.
Capt. If they have wit, they will love you: beside, if it come to that, we two will swear we saw you married, and the parson shall be sworn he did it. Priest, will you not swear?
Par. Yes, anything; what is't, Captain?
Wild. If this jest could do it, yet 'tis base to gain a wife so poorly. She came hither, too, for sanctuary; it would be an uncivil and an unhospitable thing, and look as if I had not merit enough to get a wife without stealing her from herself: then, 'tis in mine own house.
Capt. The better; nay, now I think on't, why came she hither? How do you know the plague is there? all was well at dinner; I'll be hanged if it be not a plot: the lovers, too, whom you abused at dinner, are joined with them: a trick, a mere trick of wit to abuse us! and to-morrow, when the birds are flown, they'll laugh at you, and say, two country-ladies put themselves naked into the hands of three travelled city wits, and they durst not lay hold on them.
Care. A pox upon these niceties!
Wan. If they have not some design upon you, hang me: why did they talk so freely before me else?