Volume Iv Part 4 (1/2)

Sir _Cred._ A Pox of his Compliment. Why, this is worse than t'other.--What shall I do in this case?--should I speak and undeceive them, they would swear 'twere to save my Jems: and to part with 'em--Zoz, how simply should I look!--but hang't, when I have married her, they are my own again.

[Gives the Rings, and falls back into Grimaces. _Leander_ whispers to _Lodwick_.

_Lod._ Enough--Then, Sister, she has sent you a Purse of her own knitting full of Broad Gold.

Sir. _Cred._ Broad Gold! why, what a Pox does the Man conjure?

_Lod._ Which, Sister, faith, you must accept of, you see by that Grimace how much 'twill grieve him else.

Sir _Cred._ A pretty civil way this to rob a Man.--Why, _Lodwick_,--why, what a Pox, will they have no mercy?--Zoz, I'll see how far they'll drive the Jest.

[Gives the Gold and bows, and sc.r.a.pes and screws.

_Lod._ Say you so, Sir? well I'll see what may be done.--Sister, behold him, and take pity on him; he has but one more humble request to make you, 'tis to receive a Gold Watch which he designs you from himself.

Sir _Cred._ Why, how long has this Fellow been a Conjurer? for he does deal with the Devil, that's certain,--_Lodwick_-- [Pulls him.

_Lod._ Ay do, speak and spoil all, do.

Sir _Cred._ Speak and spoil all, quoth he! and the Duce take me if I am not provok'd to't; why, how the Devil should he light slap-dash, as they say, upon every thing thus? Well, Zoz, I'm resolv'd to give it her, and shame her if she have any Conscience in her.

[Gives his Watch with pitiful Grimaces.

_Lod._ Now, Sister, you must know there's a Mystery in this Watch, 'tis a kind of Hieroglyphick that will instruct you how a Married Woman of your Quality ought to live.

Sir _Cred._ How, my Watch Mysteries and Hieroglyphicks! the Devil take me, if I knew of any such Virtues it had.

[They are all looking on the Watch.

_Lod._ Beginning at Eight, from which down to Twelve you ought to imploy in dressing, till Two at Dinner, till Five in Visits, till Seven at the Play, till Nine i'th' Park, Ten at Supper with your Lover, if your Husband be not at home, or keep his distance, which he's too well bred not to do; then from Ten to Twelve are the happy Hours the Bergere, those of intire Enjoyment.--

Sir _Cred._ Say you so? hang me if I shall not go near to think I may chance to be a Cuckold by the s.h.i.+ft.

_Isab._ Well, Sir, what must she do from Twelve till Eight again?

_Lod._ Oh! those are the dull Conjugal Hours for sleeping with her own Husband, and dreaming of Joys her absent Lover alone can give her.

Sir _Cred._ Nay, an she be for Sleeping, Zoz, I am as good at that as she can be for her Heart; or Snoring either.

_Lod._ But I have done; Sir _Credulous_ has a dumb Oration to make you by way of farther Explanation.

Sir _Cred._ A dumb Oration! now do I know no more how to speak a dumb Speech than a Dog.

_Luc._ Oh, I love that sort of Eloquence extremely.

_Lod._ I told you this would take her.

Sir _Cred._ Nay, I know your silent Speeches are incomparable, and I have such a Speech in my Head.

_Lod._ Your Postures, your Postures, begin, Sir.

[He puts himself into a ready Posture as if he would speak, but only makes Faces.