apprehension of losing me: for you know he has long pretended a
passion for me.

SIR SAMP. Gadzooks, a most ingenious contrivance--if we were to go
through with it. But why must the match only be seemingly carried
on? Odd, let it be a real contract.

ANG. Oh, fie, Sir Sampson, what would the world say?

SIR SAMP. Say? They would say you were a wise woman and I a happy
man. Odd, madam, I'll love you as long as I live, and leave you a
good jointure when I die.

ANG. Ay; but that is not in your power, Sir Sampson: for when
Valentine confesses himself in his senses, he must make over his
inheritance to his younger brother.

SIR SAMP. Odd, you're cunning, a wary baggage! Faith and troth, I
like you the better. But, I warrant you, I have a proviso in the
obligation in favour of myself. Body o' me, I have a trick to turn
the settlement upon the issue male of our two bodies begotten.
Odsbud, let us find children and I'll find an estate!

ANG. Will you? Well, do you find the estate and leave t'other to
me.

SIR SAMP. O rogue! But I'll trust you. And will you consent? Is
it a match then?

ANG. Let me consult my lawyer concerning this obligation, and if I