FONDLEWIFE, BARNABY.
FOND.I say I will tarry at home.
BAR.But, sir.
FOND.Good lack! I profess the spirit of contradiction hath possessed the lad--I say I will tarry at home, varlet.
BAR.I have done, sir; then farewell five hundred pound.
FOND.Ha, how's that? Stay, stay, did you leave word, say you, with his wife? With Comfort herself?
BAR.I did; and Comfort will send Tribulation hither as soon as ever he comes home.I could have brought young Mr.Prig to have kept my mistress company in the meantime.But you say -FOND.How, how, say, varlet! I say let him not come near my doors.I say, he is a wanton young Levite, and pampereth himself up with dainties, that he may look lovely in the eyes of women.
Sincerely, I am afraid he hath already defiled the tabernacle of our sister Comfort; while her good husband is deluded by his godly appearance.I say that even lust doth sparkle in his eyes and glow upon his cheeks, and that I would as soon trust my wife with a lord's high-fed chaplain.
BAR.Sir, the hour draws nigh, and nothing will be done here until you come.
FOND.And nothing can be done here until I go; so that I'll tarry, de'e see.
BAR.And run the hazard to lose your affair, sir!
FOND.Good lack, good lack--I profess it is a very sufficient vexation for a man to have a handsome wife.
BAR.Never, sir, but when the man is an insufficient husband.
'Tis then, indeed, like the vanity of taking a fine house, and yet be forced to let lodgings to help pay the rent.
FOND.I profess a very apt comparison, varlet.Go and bid my Cocky come out to me; I will give her some instructions, I will reason with her before I go.
