_Sir Jol._ I won't tell you, you gipsies, so I won't--except you tickle me: 'sbud they are brave fellows, all tall, and not a bit small; odd, one of 'em has a devilish deal of money. _1st Whore._ Oh, dear! but which is he, papa? _2nd Whore._ Shan't I be in love with him, daddy? _Sir Jol._ What, nobody tickle me! nobody tickle me!--not yet? Tickle me a little, Mally--tickle me a little, Jenny--do! he, he, he, he, he, he! [_They tickle him._] No more, O dear, O dear! poor rogues! so, so, no more,--nay, if you do, if you do, odd I'll, I'll, I'll-- _3rd Whore._ What, what will you do, trow? _Sir Jol._ Come along with me, come along with me; sneak after me at a distance, that nobody take notice: swingeing fellows, Mally--swingeing fellows, Jenny; a devilish deal of money: get you afore me then, you little didappers, ye wasps, ye wagtails, get you gone, I say; swingeing fellows! [_Exeunt._ [Illustration] SCENE II.--_A Room in_ Sir DAVY DUNCE's _House_. _Enter_ Lady DUNCE _and_ SYLVIA. _L. Dunce._ Die a maid, Sylvia, fie, for shame! what a scandalous resolution's that! Five thousand pounds to your portion, and leave it all to hospitals, for the innocent recreation hereafter of leading apes in hell?[31] fie, for shame! _Sylv._ Indeed, such another charming animal as your consort, Sir Davy, might do much with me; 'tis an unspeakable blessing to lie all night by a horseload of diseases; a beastly, unsavoury, old, groaning, grunting, wheezing wretch, that smells of the grave he's going to already. From such a curse, and haircloth next my skin, good Heaven deliver me! _L. Dunce._ Thou mistakest the use of a husband, Sylvia: they are not meant for bedfellows; heretofore, indeed, 'twas a fulsome fashion, to lie o' nights with a husband; but the world's improved, and customs altered. _Sylv._ Pray instruct me then what the use of a husband is. _L. Dunce._ Instead of a gentleman-usher for ceremony's sake, to be in waiting on set days and particular occasions; but the friend, cousin, is the jewel unvaluable. _Sylv._ But Sir Davy, madam, will be difficult to be so governed; I am mistaken if his nature is not too jealous to be blinded. _L. Dunce._ So much the better; of all, the jealous fool is easiest to be deceived: for observe, where there's jealousy there's always fondness; which if a woman, as she ought to do, will make the right use of, the husband's fears shall not so awake him on one side, as his dotage shall blind him on the other. _Sylv._ Is your piece of mortality such a doting doodle? is he so very fond of you?