Sir _Pat._ Some comfort that too, the Brethren of the Chain cannot laugh at me. Sir _Cred._ A very pleasant old Fellow this: faith, I cou’d be very merry with him now, but that I am damnable sad.--Madam, I shall desire to lay the Saddle on the right Horse. [To L. _Kno._ L. _Kno._ What mean you, Sir? Sir _Cred._ Only, Madam, if I were as some Men are, I should not be as I am. L. _Kno._ It may be so, Sir. Sir _Cred._ I say no more, but matters are not carried so swimmingly, but I can dive into the meaning on’t. [Sir _Patient_ talks this while to _Lodwick_. L. _Kno._ I hate this hypothetical way of arguing, answer me categorically. Sir _Cred._ Hypothetical and Categorical! what does she mean now? [Aside.] --Madam, in plain _English_, I am made a _John-a-Nokes_ of, _Jack-hold-my-staff_, a _Merry Andrew_ Doctor, to give _Leander_ time to marry your Daughter; and ‘twas therefore I was hoisted up in the Basket;--but as the play says, ‘tis well ‘tis no worse: I’d rather lose my Mistress than my Life. Sir _Pat._ But how came this Rascal _Turboon_ to admit you? _Lod._ For the Lucre of our Fees, Sir, which was his recompence. Sir _Pat._ I forgive it you, and will turn Spark, they live the merriest Lives--keep some City Mistress, go to Court, and hate all Conventicles. _You see what a fine City-Wife can do Of the true-breed; instruct her Husband too: I wish all civil Cuckolds in the Nation Would take example by my Reformation._ EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. _Gwin_.