JOLLY. No, not all: I have heard of Whittington and his Cat,[231] and others, that have made fortunes by strange means, but I scarce believe my son would rise from _Hop, a halfpenny and a lamb's-skin_;[232] and the wenches, commonly having more wit and beauty than money, foreseeing small portions, grow sad and read romances, till their wit spy some unfortunate merit like their own, without money too; and they two sigh after one another till they grow mysterious in colours, and become a proverb for their constancy: and when their love has worn out the cause, marry in the end a new couple; then, grown ashamed of the knowledge they so long hunted, at length part by consent, and vanish into Abigail and governor. WID. Well, gentlemen, excuse me for this one time; and if ever I invite you to dinner again, punish me with such another discourse. In the meantime, let's go in and dine; meat stays for us. CAPT.[233] Faith, madam, we were resolved to be merry: we have not met these three years till to-day, and at the Bear we meant to have dined; and since your ladyship would have our company, you must pardon our humour. Here, Master[234] Sad, here's the widow's health to you. [_Exeunt omnes._ ACT III., SCENE 1. _Enter all from dinner._ WID. Nephew, how do you dispose of yourself this afternoon? WILD. We have a design we must pursue, which will rid you of all this troublesome company; and we'll make no excuse, because you peeped into our privacies to-day. CARE. Your humble servant, ladies; gentlemen, we'll leave you to pursue your fortunes. [_Exit_ CARELESS. JOLLY. Farewell, widow: may'st thou live unmarried till thou run'st away with thyself. [_Exit_ JOLLY. CAPT. No, no, when that day comes, command the humblest of your servants. [_Exit_ CAPTAIN. WILD. Farewell, aunt: sweet Mistress Pleasant, I wish you good fortune. [_Exit_ WILD. WID. Farewell, farewell, gentlemen. Niece, now, if we could be rid of these troublesome lovers too, we would go see a play. [_Aside._ PLEA. Rid of them! why, they are but now in season. As I live, I would do as little to give mine content as any she in town, and yet I do not grudge him the happiness of carrying me to a play. WID. Ay, but the world will talk, because they pretend; and then we shall be sure to meet my nephew there and his wild company, and they will laugh to see us together. PLEA. Who will you have, Tim the butler or Formal your gentleman-usher? I would take Philip, the foreman of the shop, as soon. WID. Let's mask ourselves, and take Secret, and go alone by water. PLEA. Yes, and follow her, like one of my aunts of the suburbs.[235] It is a good way to know what you may yield in a market; for, I'll undertake, there are those that shall bid for you before the play will be done.