+Wid.+ Shall I tell thee? For this, thou hast given him his cure, and he is past care; for old Bloodhound the sawmonger, I writ to him to meet me soon, at ten in the dark, upon the 'Change; and if I come not by ten, he should stay till twelve: intimating something mystically that, to avoid surprisals of other rivals, I mean to go from thence with him to lie at his house all night, and go to church with him i' th' morning; when my meaning is only knavery, to make myself merry, and let him cool his heels[70] there till morning. +Jar.+ And now have I a whimsy, newly jumped into the coll of ingenious apprehension, to sauce him daintily; that for that. What think you of the gentleman that brought a stool with him out of the hall, and sat down at dinner with you in the parlour? +Wid.+ They say he's an ancient, but I affect not his colours. +Jar.+ But what say you to the mad, victorious Alexander? +Wid.+ A wild, mad roarer, a trouble not worth minding. +Jar.+ He will mind you ere morning, troth, mistress. [_Aside._] There waits a gentleman i' th' next room that hath a long time loved you, and has watched for such an hour, when all was out of doors, to tell you so; and, none being within but you and I, he desires you would hear him speak, and there's an end on't. +Wid.+ What is he? +Jar.+ An honest man. +Wid.+ How know you? +Jar.+ Why, he told me so. +Wid.+ And why were you such a fool to take his own word. +Jar.+ Because all the wit I had could get nobody's else. +Wid.+ A knave will ever tell you he's an honest man. +Jar.+ But an honest man will never tell you he's a knave. +Wid.+ Well, sir, your mistress dares look upon the honest man. +Jar.+ And the honest man dares look upon my mistress. [_Exit._ +Wid.+ 'Tis the roughest, bluntest fellow. Yet, when I take young Bloodhound to a retired collection of scattered judgment, which often lies disjointed with the confused distraction of so many, methinks he dwells in my opinion a right ingenious[71] spirit, veiled merely with the vanity of youth and wildness. He looks, methinks, like one that could retract himself from his mad starts, and, when he pleased, turn tame. His handsome wildness, methinks, becomes him, could he keep it bounded in thrift and temperance. But down, these thoughts; my resolve rests here in private. But from a fool, a miser, and a man too jealous for a little sweetness [in] love, Cupid defend me! _Enter +Jarvis+ like a gentleman, very brave, with his former clothes in his hand._[72] +Jar.+ And to a widow wise, nobly liberal and discreetly credulous, Cupid hath sent me. +Wid.+ Pray prove you, as you appear, a gentleman. Why, Jarvis?