SIR SAMP. Odd, madam, I love you. And if you would take my advice in a husband— ANG. Hold, hold, Sir Sampson. I asked your advice for a husband, and you are giving me your consent. I was indeed thinking to propose something like it in jest, to satisfy you about Valentine: for if a match were seemingly carried on between you and me, it would oblige him to throw off his disguise of madness, in apprehension of losing me: for you know he has long pretended a passion for me. SIR SAMP. Gadzooks, a most ingenious contrivance—if we were to go through with it. But why must the match only be seemingly carried on? Odd, let it be a real contract. ANG. Oh, fie, Sir Sampson, what would the world say? SIR SAMP. Say? They would say you were a wise woman and I a happy man. Odd, madam, I’ll love you as long as I live, and leave you a good jointure when I die. ANG. Ay; but that is not in your power, Sir Sampson: for when Valentine confesses himself in his senses, he must make over his inheritance to his younger brother. SIR SAMP. Odd, you’re cunning, a wary baggage! Faith and troth, I like you the better. But, I warrant you, I have a proviso in the obligation in favour of myself. Body o’ me, I have a trick to turn the settlement upon the issue male of our two bodies begotten. Odsbud, let us find children and I’ll find an estate! ANG. Will you? Well, do you find the estate and leave t’other to me. SIR SAMP. O rogue! But I’ll trust you. And will you consent? Is it a match then? ANG. Let me consult my lawyer concerning this obligation, and if I find what you propose practicable, I’ll give you my answer. SIR SAMP. With all my heart: come in with me, and I’ll lend you the bond. You shall consult your lawyer, and I’ll consult a parson. Odzooks, I’m a young man—odzooks, I’m a young man, and I’ll make it appear,—odd, you’re devilish handsome. Faith and troth, you’re very handsome, and I’m very young and very lusty. Odsbud, hussy, you know how to choose, and so do I. Odd, I think we are very well met. Give me your hand, odd, let me kiss it; ’tis as warm and as soft—as what? Odd, as t’other hand—give me t’other hand, and I’ll mumble ’em and kiss ’em till they melt in my mouth. ANG. Hold, Sir Sampson. You’re profuse of your vigour before your time. You’ll spend your estate before you come to it. SIR SAMP. No, no, only give you a rent-roll of my possessions. Ah, baggage, I warrant you for little Sampson. Odd, Sampson’s a very good name for an able fellow: your Sampsons were strong dogs from the beginning. ANG. Have a care and don’t over-act your part. If you remember, Sampson, the strongest of the name, pulled an old house over his head at last. SIR SAMP. Say you so, hussy? Come, let’s go then; odd, I long to be pulling too; come away. Odso, here’s somebody coming. SCENE III. TATTLE, JEREMY. TATT. Is not that she gone out just now?