Chapter 42

_She discover’d undrest at her Glass; Sir_ Cautious _undrest_.

L. _Ful_. But why to Night? indeed you’re wondrous kind methinks.

Sir _Cau_. Why, I don’t know--a Wedding is a sort of an Alarm to Love; it calls up every Man’s courage.

L. _Ful_. Ay, but will it come when ‘tis call’d?

Sir _Cau_. I doubt you’ll find it to my Grief-- [_Aside_. --But I think ‘tis all one to thee, thou car’st not for my Complement; no, thou’dst rather have a young Fellow.

L. _Ful_. I am not us’d to flatter much; if forty Years were taken from your Age, ‘twou’d render you something more agreeable to my Bed, I must confess.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, no doubt on’t.

L. _Ful_. Yet you may take my word without an Oath, Were you as old as Time, and I were young and gay As _April_ Flowers, which all are fond to gather; My Beauties all should wither in the Shade, E’er I’d be worn in a dishonest Bosom.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, but you’re wondrous free methinks, sometimes, which gives shreud suspicions.

L. _Ful_. What, because I cannot simper, look demure, and justify my Honour, when none questions it? --Cry fie, and out upon the naughty Women, Because they please themselves--and so wou’d I.

Sir _Cau_. How, wou’d, what cuckold me?

L. _Ful_. Yes, if it pleas’d me better than Vertue, Sir. But I’ll not change my Freedom and my Humour, To purchase the dull Fame of being honest.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, but the World, the World--

L. _Ful_. I value not the Censures of the Croud.

Sir _Cau_. But I am old.

L. _Ful_. That’s your fault, Sir, not mine.

Sir _Cau_. But being so, if I shou’d be good-natur’d, and give thee leave to love discreetly--

L. _Ful_. I’d do’t without your leave, Sir.

Sir _Cau_. Do’t--what, cuckold me?

L. _Ful_. No, love discreetly, Sir, love as I ought, love honestly.

Sir _Cau_. What, in love with any body, but your own Husband?

L. _Ful_. Yes.

Sir _Cau_. Yes, quoth a--is that your loving as you ought?

L. _Ful_. We cannot help our Inclinations, Sir, No more than Time, or Light from coming on-- But I can keep my Virtue, Sir, intire.

Sir _Cau_. What, I’ll warrant, this is your first Love, _Gayman_?

L. _Ful_. I’ll not deny that Truth, though even to you.

Sir _Cau_. Why, in consideration of my Age, and your Youth, I’d bear a Conscience--provided you do things wisely.

L. _Ful_. Do what thing, Sir?

Sir _Cau_. You know what I mean--

L. _Ful_. Hah--I hope you wou’d not be a Cuckold, Sir.

Sir _Cau_. Why--truly in a civil way--or so.

L. _Ful_. There is but one way, Sir, to make me hate you; And that wou’d be tame suffering.

Sir _Cau_. Nay, and she be thereabouts, there’s no discovering.

L. _Ful_. But leave this fond discourse, and, if you must, Let us to Bed.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, I did but try your Virtue, mun--dost think I was in earnest?

_Enter Servant_.

_Serv_. Sir, here’s a Chest directed to your Worship.

Sir _Cau_. Hum, ‘tis _Wasteall_--now does my heart fail me--A Chest say you--to me--so late;--I’ll warrant it comes from Sir _Nicholas Smuggle_--some prohibited Goods that he has stoln the Custom of, and cheated his Majesty--Well, he’s an honest Man, bring it in--

[_Exit Servant_.

L. _Ful_. What, into my Apartment, Sir, a nasty Chest!

Sir _Cau_. By all means--for if the Searchers come, they’ll never be so uncivil to ransack thy Lodgings; and we are bound in Christian Charity to do for one another--Some rich Commodities, I am sure--and some fine Knick-knack will fall to thy share, I’ll warrant thee --Pox on him for a young Rogue, how punctual he is! [_Aside_.

_Enter with the Chest_.

--Go, my Dear, go to Bed--I’ll send Sir _Nicholas_ a Receit for the Chest, and be with thee presently--

[_Ex. severally_.

[Gayman _peeps out of the Chest, and looks round him wondring_.

_Gay_. Hah, where am I? By Heaven, my last Night’s Vision--’Tis that inchanted Room, and yonder’s the Alcove! Sure ‘twas indeed some Witch, who knowing of my Infidelity--has by Inchantment brought me hither-- ’.is so--I am betray’d--[_Pauses_. Hah! or was it _Julia_, that last night gave me that lone Opportunity?--but hark, I hear some coming-- [_Shuts himself in_.

_Enter Sir_ Cautious.

Sir _Cau_. [_Lifting up the Chest-lid_.] So, you are come, I see-- [_Goes, and locks the door_.

_Gay_. Hah--he here! nay then, I was deceiv’d, and it was _Julia_ that last night gave me the dear Assignation. [_Aside_.

[_Sir_ Cautious _peeps into the Bed-chamber_.

L. _Ful_. [_Within_.] Come, Sir _Cautious_, I shall fall asleep, and then you’ll waken me.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, my Dear, I’m coming--she’s in Bed--I’ll go put out the Candle, and then--

_Gay_. Ay, I’ll warrant you for my part--

Sir _Cau_. Ay, but you may over-act your part, and spoil all--But, Sir, I hope you’ll use a Christian Conscience in this business.

_Gay_. Oh, doubt not, Sir, but I shall do you Reason.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir, but--

_Gay_. Good Sir, no more Cautions; you, unlike a fair Gamester, will rook me out of half my Night--I am impatient--

Sir _Cau_. Good Lord, are you so hasty? if I please, you shan’t go at all.

_Gay_. With all my soul, Sir; pay me three hundred Pound, Sir--

Sir _Cau_. Lord, Sir, you mistake my candid meaning still. I am content to be a Cuckold, Sir--but I wou’d have things done decently, d’ye mind me?

_Gay_. As decently as a Cuckold can be made, Sir.--But no more disputes, I pray, Sir.

Sir _Cau_. I’m gone--I’m gone--but harkye, Sir, you’ll rise before day? [_Going out, returns_.

_Gay_. Yet again--

Sir _Cau_. I vanish, Sir--but harkye--you’ll not speak a word, but let her think ‘tis I?

_Gay_. Be gone, I say, Sir-- [_He runs out_. I am convinc’d last night I was with _Julia_. Oh Sot, insensible and dull!

_Enter softly Sir_ Cautious.

Sir _Cau_. So, the Candle’s out--give me your hand.

[_Leads him softly in_.