Care. Hum! now do I feel all my fears flowing in upon me. Wanton and Mistress Pleasant both grow dangerously handsome. A thousand graces in each I never observed before. Now, just now, when I must not taste, I begin to long for some of their plums.
Wid. Is this serious, sir!
Care. Yes, truly, widow, sadly serious. Is there no way to get three or four mouthfuls of kisses from the parson's wife?
Wid. This is sad, sir, upon my wedding-day, to despise me for such a common thing.
Sad. As sad as I could wish. This is a jest makes me laugh.—Common! No, madam, that's too bitter; she's forest only, where the royal chase is as free as fair.
Wan. Were not you a widow to-day?
Sad. Yes, faith, girl, and as foolish a one as ever coach jumbled out of joint.
Wan. Stay, then, till to-morrow, and tell me the difference betwixt us.
Sad. I hope thou'lt prove a she-prophet. Could I live to see thee turn honest wife, and she the wanton widow!