BELL. Prithee, how dost thou love?
SHARP. He! He hates the sex.
HEART. So I hate physic too--yet I may love to take it for my
health.
BELL. Well come off, George, if at any time you should be taken
straying.
SHARP. He has need of such an excuse, considering the present
state of his body.
HEART. How d'ye mean?
SHARP. Why, if whoring be purging, as you call it, then, I may
say, marriage is entering into a course of physic.
BELL. How, George! Does the wind blow there?
HEART. It will as soon blow north and by south--marry, quotha! I
hope in heaven I have a greater portion of grace, and I think I
have baited too many of those traps to be caught in one myself.
BELL. Who the devil would have thee? unless 'twere an oysterwoman
to propagate young fry for Billingsgate--thy talent will never
recommend thee to anything of better quality.
HEART. My talent is chiefly that of speaking truth, which I don't
expect should ever recommend me to people of quality. I thank
heaven I have very honestly purchased the hatred of all the great
families in town.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44