_Oliv._ What! come before your time? My soul! my life! your haste has augmented your kindness; and let me thank you for it thus, and thus--[_Embracing and kissing him._] And though, my soul, the little time since you left me has seemed an age to my impatience, sure it is yet but seven-- _Ver._ How! who's that you expected after seven? _Oliv._ Ha! my husband returned! and have I been throwing away so many kind kisses on my husband, and wronged my lover already? [_Aside._ _Ver._ Speak, I say, who was't you expected after seven? _Oliv._ [_Aside._] What shall I say?--oh--[_Aloud._] Why 'tis but seven days, is it, dearest, since you went out of town? and I expected you not so soon. _Ver._ No, sure, 'tis but five days since I left you. _Oliv._ Pardon my impatience, dearest, I thought 'em seven at least. _Ver._ Nay, then-- _Oliv._ But, my life, you shall never stay half so long from me again; you shan't indeed, by this kiss you shan't. _Ver._ No, no; but why alone in the dark? _Oliv._ Blame not my melancholy in your absence.--But, my soul, since you went, I have strange news to tell you: Manly is returned. _Ver._ Manly returned! Fortune forbid! _Oliv._ Met with the Dutch in the channel, fought, sunk his ship, and all he carried with him. He was here with me yesterday. _Ver._ And did you own our marriage to him? _Oliv._ I told him I was married to put an end to his love and my trouble; but to whom, is yet a secret kept from him and all the world. And I have used him so scurvily, his great spirit will ne'er return to reason it farther with me: I have sent him to sea again, I warrant. _Ver._ 'Twas bravely done. And sure he will now hate the shore more than ever, after so great a disappointment. Be you sure only to keep a while our great secret, till he be gone. In the mean time, I'll lead the easy, honest fool by the nose, as I used to do; and whilst he stays, rail with him at thee; and when he's gone, laugh with thee at him. But have you his cabinet of jewels safe? part not with a seed-pearl to him, to keep him from starving. _Oliv._ Nor from hanging. _Ver._ He cannot recover 'em; and, I think, will scorn to beg 'em again. _Oliv._ But, my life, have you taken the thousand guineas he left in my name out of the goldsmith's hands? _Ver._ Ay, ay; they are removed to another goldsmith's. _Oliv._ Ay, but, my soul, you had best have a care he find not where the money is; for his present wants, as I'm informed, are such as will make him inquisitive enough. _Ver._ You say true, and he knows the man too; but I'll remove it to-morrow. _Oliv._ To-morrow! O do not stay till to-morrow; go to-night, immediately. _Ver._ Now I think on't, you advise well, and I will go presently. _Oliv._ Presently! instantly! I will not let you stay a jot. _Ver._ I will then, though I return not home till twelve.