Part 17 (2/2)

FOND. [_Without_.] c.o.c.ky, c.o.c.ky, where are you, c.o.c.ky? I'm come home.

LAET. Ah! There he is. Make haste, gather up your things.

FOND. c.o.c.ky, c.o.c.ky, open the door.

BELL. Pox choke him, would his horns were in his throat. My patch, my patch. [_Looking about_, _and gathering up his things_.]

LAET. My jewel, art thou there?--No matter for your patch.--You s'an't tum in, Nykin--run into my chamber, quickly, quickly--You s'an't tum in.

FOND. Nay, prithee, dear, i'f.e.c.k I'm in haste.

LAET. Then I'll let you in. [_Opens the door_.]

SCENE XVI.

LAEt.i.tIA, FONDLEWIFE, SIR JOSEPH.

FOND. Kiss, dear--I met the master of the s.h.i.+p by the way, and I must have my papers of accounts out of your cabinet.

LAET. Oh, I'm undone! [_Aside_.]

SIR JO. Pray, first let me have fifty pound, good Alderman, for I'm in haste.

FOND. A hundred has already been paid by your order. Fifty? I have the sum ready in gold in my closet.

SCENE XVII.

LAEt.i.tIA, SIR JOSEPH.

SIR JO. Agad, it's a curious, fine, pretty rogue; I'll speak to her.--Pray, Madam, what news d'ye hear?

LAET. Sir, I seldom stir abroad. [_Walks about in disorder_.]

SIR JO. I wonder at that, Madam, for 'tis most curious fine weather.

LAET. Methinks 't has been very ill weather.

SIR JO. As you say, madam, 'tis pretty bad weather, and has been so a great while.

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