[The women squeak when they speak.
Care. Why, what's o'clock, captain?
Capt. It's late.
Care. Faith, so it was before we slept.
Wid. Why, nephew, what means this rudeness? As I live, I'll fall out with you. This is no jest.
Wild. No, as I live, aunt, we are in earnest; but my part lies here, and there's a gentleman will do his best to satisfy you. [They catch the women in their arms.] And, sweet Mistress Pleasant, I know you have so much wit as to perceive this business cannot be remedied by denials. Here we are, as you see, naked,[274] and thus have saluted hundreds at the window that passed by, and gave us joy this morning.
Plea. Joy! of what? what do you mean?
Care. Madam, this is visible; and you may coy it, and refuse to call me husband, but I am resolved to call you wife, and such proofs I'll bring as shall not be denied.
[Careless kisses the Widow.
Wid. Promise yourself that; see whether your fine wits can make it good. You will not be uncivil?