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Jack. Ay, but I am, perhaps, a little too nice in choosing too: I'm not so easily pleased, it may be, as you imagine.
Tom. What, you want another young Wife, as pretty and as pleasant as that you lost. One would think you should be past that, Jack. Why, you are turn'd of Forty.
Jack. Only that you happen to be quite mistaken; and that I look just the contrary Way.
Tom. What do you mean by that? Explain your self, what is it you drive at?
Jack. Why, to be plain with you, the Case is this: Money I would have, that's the first thing; but then I have Children enough.
Tom. What! grown Miser already. What, would you marry an old ugly overgrown Widow of Seventy, only for her Money? Han't you Money enough?
Jack. No, no. Look ye, Tom, I an't the Man the World takes me for; I am well enough, but I am far from rich; and I have seven Children, you know; and that's enough to make a rich Man die poor.
Tom. Don't Halt before you're Lame; you are worth Ten thousand Pounds, at least; every Body knows that; and a thriving Man too.
Jack. No, no, I an't so rich; but if I was, what's that to be divided into seven Parts? And what must the eldest Son do? Must he have nothing more than the youngest Sister? You know I'm a Freeman.
Tom. Well, so you want a Wife with a Fortune, that her Money may go to your Children. What old Fool must that be?
Jack. Well, that is the Fool I want; however, Tom, you know I am a Father.
Tom.
