_Cour._ I must confess, I have been something to blame that way; but if ever thou hearest more of it from my mouth after this night's adventure--would I were well out of the house! _Sylv._ Have a care of swearing, I beseech you; for you must understand that, spite of my teeth, I am at last fallen in love most unmercifully. _Cour._ And dost thou imagine I am so hard-hearted a villain as to have no compassion of thee? _Sylv._ No, for I hope he's a man you can have no exceptions against. _Cour._ Yes, yes, the man is a man, I'll assure you, that's one comfort. _Sylv._ Who do you think it may be now? try if you can guess him. _Cour._ Whoever he is, he's an honest fellow, I'll warrant him, and I believe will not think himself very unhappy neither. _Sylv._ If a fortune of five thousand pounds, pleasant nights, and quiet days, can make him happy, I assure you he may be so; but try once to guess at him. _Cour._ But if I should be mistaken? _Sylv._ Why, who is it you would wish me to? _Cour._ You have five thousand pound, you say? _Sylv._ Yes. _Cour._ Faith, child, to deal honestly, I know well enough who 'tis I wish for; but, sweetheart, before I tell you my inclinations, it were but reasonable that I knew yours. _Sylv._ Well, sir, because I am confident you will stand my friend in the business, I'll make a discovery; and to hold you in suspense no longer, you must know I have a month's mind[51] to an arm-full of your dearly-beloved friend and brother captain; what say you to't? _Cour._ Madam, your humble servant; good-bye, that's all. _Sylv._ What, thus cruelly leave a lady that so kindly took you in, in your last night's pickle, into her lodging? whither would you rove now, my wanderer? _Cour._ Faith, madam, you have dealt so gallantly in trusting me with your passion, that I cannot stay here without telling you, that I am three times as much in love with an acquaintance of yours, as you can be with any friend of mine. _Sylv._ Not with my waiting-woman, I hope, sir. _Cour._ No, but it is with a certain kinswoman of thine, child; they call her my Lady Dunce, and I think this is her house too; they say she will be civil upon a good occasion, therefore, pr'ythee be charitable, and show the way to her chamber a little. _Sylv._ What, commit adultery, captain? fie upon't! what, hazard your soul?