_Sir Dav._ I have a lady, sir--oh, and she's mightily taken with this picture of yours; she was so mightily proud of it, she could not forbear showing it me, and telling too who it was sent it her. _Beau._ And has she been long a jilt? has she practised the trade for any time? _Sir Dav._ Trade! humph, what trade? what trade, friend? _Beau._ Why the trade of whore and no whore, caterwauling in jest, putting out Christian colours, when she's a Turk under deck. A curse upon all honest women in the flesh, that are whores in the spirit! _Sir Dav._ Poor devil, how he rails! ha, ha, ha! Look you, sweet soul, as I told you before, there are laws, there are laws, but those are things not worthy your consideration: beauty's your business. But, dear vagabond, trouble thyself no further about my spouse; let my doxy rest in peace, she's meat for thy master, old boy; I have my belly-full of her every night. _Beau._ Sir, I wish all your noble family hanged from the bottom of my heart. _Sir Dav._ Moreover, Captain Swash, I must tell you my wife is a honest woman, of a virtuous disposition, one that I have loved from her infancy, and she deserves it by her faithful dealing in this affair, for that she has discovered loyally to me the treacherous designs laid against her chastity, and my honour. _Beau._ By this light, the beast weeps! [_Aside._ _Sir Dav._ Truly I cannot but weep for joy, to think how happy I am in a sincere, faithful, and loving yoke-fellow. She charged me too to tell you into the bargain, that she is sufficiently satisfied of the most secret wishes of your heart. _Beau._ I'm glad on't. _Sir Dav._ And that 'tis her desire that you would trouble yourself no more about the matter. _Beau._ With all my heart. _Sir Dav._ But henceforward behave yourself with such discretion as becomes a gentleman. _Beau._ Oh, to be sure, most exactly! _Sir Dav._ And let her alone to make the best use of those innocent freedoms I allow her, without putting her reputation in hazard. _Beau._ As how, I beseech you? _Sir Dav._ By your impertinent and unseasonable address. _Beau._ And this news you bring me by a particular commission from your sweet lady? _Sir Dav._ Yea, friend, I do; and she hopes you'll be sensible, dear heart, of her good meaning by it: these were her very words, I neither add nor diminish, for plain-dealing is my mistress's friend. _Beau._ Then all the curses I shall think on this twelvemonth light on her, and as many more on the next fool that gives credit to the sex! _Sir Dav._ Well, certainly I am the happiest toad! How melancholy the monkey stands now! Poor pug, hast thou lost her?