_Spark._ Ha! ha! ha! a silly wise rogue would make one laugh more than a stark fool, ha! ha! I shall burst. Nay, you shall not disturb 'em; I'll vex thee, by the world. [_Struggles with_ PINCHWIFE _to keep him from_ HARCOURT _and_ ALITHEA. _Alith._ The writings are drawn, sir, settlements made; 'tis too late, sir, and past all revocation. _Har._ Then so is my death. _Alith._ I would not be unjust to him. _Har._ Then why to me so? _Alith._ I have no obligation to you. _Har._ My love. _Alith._ I had his before. _Har._ You never had it; he wants, you see, jealousy, the only infallible sign of it. _Alith._ Love proceeds from esteem; he cannot distrust my virtue: besides, he loves me, or he would not marry me. _Har._ Marrying you is no more sign of his love than bribing your woman, that he may marry you, is a sign of his generosity. Marriage is rather a sign of interest than love; and he that marries a fortune covets a mistress, not loves her. But if you take marriage for a sign of love, take it from me immediately. _Alith._ No, now you have put a scruple in my head; but in short, sir, to end our dispute, I must marry him, my reputation would suffer in the world else. _Har._ No; if you do marry him, with your pardon, madam, your reputation suffers in the world, and you would be thought in necessity for a cloak. _Alith._ Nay, now you are rude, sir.--Mr. Sparkish, pray come hither, your friend here is very troublesome, and very loving. _Har._ Hold! hold!--[_Aside to_ ALITHEA. _Pinch._ D'ye hear that? _Spark._ Why, d'ye think I'll seem to be jealous, like a country bumpkin? _Pinch._ No, rather be a cuckold, like a credulous cit. _Har._ Madam, you would not have been so little generous as to have told him. _Alith._ Yes, since you could be so little generous as to wrong him. _Har._ Wrong him! no man can do't, he's beneath an injury: a bubble, a coward, a senseless idiot, a wretch so contemptible to all the world but you, that-- _Alith._ Hold, do not rail at him, for since he is like to be my husband, I am resolved to like him: nay, I think I am obliged to tell him you are not his friend.--Master Sparkish, Master Sparkish! _Spark._ What, what?--[_To_ HARCOURT.] Now, dear rogue, has not she wit? _Har._ Not so much as I thought, and hoped she had. [_Speaks surlily._ _Alith._ Mr. Sparkish, do you bring people to rail at you? _Har._ Madam-- _Spark._ How! no; but if he does rail at me, 'tis but in jest, I warrant: what we wits do for one another, and never take any notice of it. _Alith._ He spoke so scurrilously of you, I had no patience to hear him; besides, he has been making love to me. _Har._ True, damned tell-tale woman! [_Aside._ _Spark._ Pshaw! to show his parts--we wits rail and make love often, but to show our parts: as we have no affections, so we have no malice, we-- _Alith._ He said you were a wretch below an injury-- _Spark._ Pshaw!