LUCY. Hold your prating. I’m thinking what vocation I shall follow while my spouse is planting laurels in the wars.
BLUFF. No more wars, spouse, no more wars. While I plant laurels for my head abroad, I may find the branches sprout at home.
HEART. Bellmour, I approve thy mirth, and thank thee. And I cannot in gratitude (for I see which way thou art going) see thee fall into the same snare out of which thou hast delivered me.
BELL. I thank thee, George, for thy good intention; but there is a fatality in marriage, for I find I’m resolute.
HEART. Then good counsel will be thrown away upon you. For my part, I have once escaped; and when I wed again, may she be—ugly, as an old bawd.
VAIN. Ill-natured, as an old maid—
BELL. Wanton, as a young widow—
SHARP. And jealous, as a barren wife.
HEART. Agreed.
BELL. Well; ’midst of these dreadful denunciations, and notwithstanding the warning and example before me, I commit myself to lasting durance.