Part 87 (2/2)

JOLLY. Yes, but I think thou hast more wit than to fight with me; for if I kill thee, 'tis a fortune to me, and others will sign in fear: and if thou shouldst kill me, anybody that knows us would swear 'twere very strange, and cry, There's G.o.d's just judgment now upon that lewd youth, and thou procur'st his hangman's place at the rate of thy estate.

CON. By this hand, he is in the right; and, for mine, I meant to pay when I signed. Hang it, never put good fellows to say, _Prythee, give me a hundred pounds._

SAD. 'Tis true, 'tis a good janty[207] way of begging; yet, for being killed if I refuse it--would there were no more danger in the widow's unkindness than in your fighting, I would not mistrust my design.

JOLLY. Why, ay, there's a point now in nicety of honour. I should kill you for her, for you know I pretended first; and it may be, if I had writ sad lines to her, and hid myself in my cloak, and haunted her coach--it may be in time she would have sought me.

Not I, by this hand, I'll not trouble myself for a wench; and married widows are but customary authorised wenches.

CON. Being of that opinion, how canst thou think of marrying one?

JOLLY. Why, faith, I know not: I thought to rest me, for I was run out of breath with pleasure, and grew so acquainted with sin, I would have been good, for variety: in these thoughts 'twas my fortune to meet with this widow--handsome, and of a clear fame.

CON. Didst love her?

JOLLY. Yes, faith: I had love, but not to the disease that makes men sick; and I could have loved her still, but that I was angry to have her refuse me for a fault I told her of myself; so I went no more.

SAD. Did she forbid you but once?

JOLLY. Faith, I think I slipped a fair opportunity: a handsome wench and three thousand pounds _per annum_ in certainty, besides the possibility of being saved.

CON. Which now you think desperate?

[WIDOW _and_ PLEASANT _looking out at a window_.

PLEA. That is you: cross or pile, will you have him yet, or no?

WID. Peace! observe them.

JOLLY. Faith, no, I do not despair; but I cannot resolve.

_Enter_ WILD, CARELESS, _and the_ CAPTAIN, _going in haste; he comes in at the middle door_.

WID. Who are those?

CARE. Captain, whither in such haste? What, defeated? Call you this a retreat, or a flight from your friends?

PLEA. Your nephew, and his governor, and his friend! Here will be a scene! Sit close, and we may know the secret of their hearts.

WID. They have not met since they returned: I shall love this bay-window.[208]

CAPT. Prythee, let me go: there's mischief a-broiling; and if thou shak'st me once more, thou wilt jumble a lie together I have been hammering this hour.

CARE. A pox upon you! a-studying lies?

CAPT. Why, then they are no lies, but something in the praise of an old lady's beauty: what do you call that?

JOLLY. Who are those?

<script>