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DUNARDEN.

And what has he to do with prepossessions?

He is, of all men, bound to wed for wealth,
Since he, with his unceasing liberalities,
Would bare me to the quick. No tacksman dies,
But he must have appointed for his widow
A house, with right of browsing for her goats,
And pasture for a cow, all free of charge.
The bedrid carlins, too, and orphan brats,
Come all on me, through his petitioning;
And I, God help me! have been weak enough
To grant such suits too often.

MARIAN.

You will not say so on your dying day,

DUNARDEN.

For that, indeed, it may be well enough;

But for our living days, I needs must say,
It doth not suit at all.—If he were frugal,
And would with care lay up what is our own;
Having some hoarded store, he might more reasonably
Indulge his prepossessions, as you phrase it.

MARIAN.

Nay, be not angry with him.

DUNARDEN.

Angry with him!

Such want of reason would provoke a saint!
Is he to spend the rents with open hand,