WINWIFE

None i'the earth, Master Little-wit. Alas, you have the garden where they grow still! A wife here with a Strawberry -breath, Cheery -lips, Apricot -cheeks, and a soft velvet head, Like a Melicotion. But my taste, Master Little-wit, tends to fruit of a later kind: the sober Matron, your wives mother. No? Master Litle-wit, why? How? Is madness a right course? Why? he makes no love to her, do's he? What? But do's she believe them? Why, this is a confederacy, a mere piece of pra ctice upon her, by these Impostors? When came this Proselyte ? I cannot tell: It seems you had neither i'your feet; that took this pain to find me. Pray thee forbear, for my respect somewhat. Master Little-wit can tell us. What call you the Reverend Elder ? you told me of? your Banbury -man. How, what a name's there! I did indeed. Do you hear? Jack Little-wit, what business do's thy pretty head think, this fellow may have, that he keeps such a coil with? With all our hearts. Sir. He has made his Master a finer by this description, I should think. And I, am, for the Cosset, his charge! Did you ever see a fellows face more accuse him for and Ass? It's true. I, and if you mark her, what a restrained scorn she casts upon all his behaviour, and speeches? Do not trust it too much, John, be more sparing, and use it, but now and then; a wit is a dangerous thing, in this age; do not over buy it. And his Numpes, to flap them away. Oh! but you must not leave him, now, to these would zards, Numpes. I, and offer to marry to her? well, I will leave the chase of my widow, for to day, and directly to the Fair. These flies this hight season, but engender us excellent creeping sport. man that has but a spoon full of brain, would think oh arewell, John. Why, there's twelpence, pray thee wilt thou be gone. And his wife, and my widow, her mother: the whole family. Not I, I'll not see them, That's my Rival, I believe, the Baker! What flashes comes from him! Rather driving them to the Pens: for he will let them look upon nothing. Faith, the sister comes after'hem, well, too. I wonder, we see him not here. He says well, it's the greater Mastery, and it'll make the more sport when it's missed. I Master Quarlous, are you proffering? (I'll look to you in-faith, Gamester.) And unfortunate foolish Tribe you are fallen into, Lady, I wonder you can en dure them. Away, I'll not be seen, by him. Why, if you can Like either of us, Lady, say, which is he, and the other shall swear instantly to desist. Yes, here they be, and maiden ones too, unwritten in. And mine shall not be long creating after. And mine out of the play, Palemon. For what? Is't done, Lady? How now lime-twig? hast thou touched. Why, stay here about for you, Mistress Welborne must not be seen. How! my widow in love with a madman? How, Palemon! And you have him Mistress, believe it, that shall ne ver give you cause to repent her benefit, but make you rather to think that in this choice, she had both her eyes. Sententious Numps ! I never herd so much from him, before. A great deal of love, and care, he expresses. What a desperate, profane wretch is this! is there any Ignorance, or impudence Like his? to call his zeal to fill him against a Puppet ? Pardon me, Sir, I am a kinsman of hers. Winwife, Sir Put off by a Brother of Banbury, one, that, they say, is come here, and governs all, already. Will you see sport? look, there's a fellow Gam the up to him, mark. You see what care they have on you, to leave you thus. What ever it be, we'll presume reasonableness, come ming from you. How diligent and troublesome he is! Heat, what do you mean? Why that's but equal.