LAETITIA and FONDLEWIFE haling out BELLMOUR.
FOND.Come out here, thou Ananias incarnate.Who, how now! Who have we here?
LAET.Ha! [Shrieks as surprised.]
FOND.Oh thou salacious woman! Am I then brutified? Ay, I feel it here; I sprout, I bud, I blossom, I am ripe-horn-mad.But who in the devil's name are you? Mercy on me for swearing.But -LAET.Oh! goodness keep us! Who are you? What are you?
BELL.Soh!
LAET.In the name of the--O! Good, my dear, don't come near it;I'm afraid 'tis the devil; indeed, it has hoofs, dear.
FOND.Indeed, and I have horns, dear.The devil, no, I am afraid 'tis the flesh, thou harlot.Dear, with the pox.Come Syren, speak, confess, who is this reverend, brawny pastor.
LAET.Indeed, and indeed now, my dear Nykin, I never saw this wicked man before.
FOND.Oh, it is a man then, it seems.
LAET.Rather, sure it is a wolf in the clothing of a sheep.
FOND.Thou art a devil in his proper clothing--woman's flesh.
What, you know nothing of him, but his fleece here! You don't love mutton? you Magdalen unconverted.
BELL.Well, now, I know my cue.--That is, very honourably to excuse her, and very impudently accuse myself.[Aside.]
LAET.Why then, I wish I may never enter into the heaven of your embraces again, my dear, if ever I saw his face before.
FOND.O Lord! O strange! I am in admiration of your impudence.
Look at him a little better; he is more modest, I warrant you, than to deny it.Come, were you two never face to face before? Speak.
BELL.Since all artifice is vain.And I think myself obliged to speak the truth in justice to your wife.--No.
FOND.Humph.
LAET.No, indeed, dear.
FOND.Nay, I find you are both in a story; that I must confess.
But, what--not to be cured of the colic? Don't you know your patient, Mrs.Quack? Oh, 'lie upon your stomach; lying upon your stomach will cure you of the colic.' Ah! answer me, Jezebel?
LAET.Let the wicked man answer for himself: does he think I have nothing to do but excuse him? 'tis enough if I can clear my own innocence to my own dear.
BELL.By my troth, and so 'tis.I have been a little too backward; that's the truth on't.
FOND.Come, sir, who are you, in the first place? And what are you?
BELL.A whore-master.
FOND.Very concise.
LAET.O beastly, impudent creature.
FOND.Well, sir, and what came you hither for?
BELL.To lie with your wife.
FOND.Good again.A very civil person this, and I believe speaks truth.
LAET.Oh, insupportable impudence.
FOND.Well, sir; pray be covered--and you have--Heh! You have finished the matter, heh? And I am, as I should be, a sort of civil perquisite to a whore-master, called a cuckold, heh? Is it not so? Come, I'm inclining to believe every word you say.
BELL.Why, faith, I must confess, so I designed you; but you were a little unlucky in coming so soon, and hindered the ****** of your own fortune.
FOND.Humph.Nay, if you mince the matter once and go back of your word you are not the person I took you for.Come, come, go on boldly.--What, don't be ashamed of your profession.--Confess, confess; I shall love thee the better for't.I shall, i'feck.
What, dost think I don't know how to behave myself in the employment of a cuckold, and have been three years apprentice to matrimony? Come, come; plain dealing is a jewel.
