That’s all my hope.

She is a fine lady as I ever beheld.—­I hope, Sir, you won’t be too severe.  She’ll get over all these freaks, if once she be a mamma, I warrant.

I can’t be severe to her—­she knows that.  The moment I see her, all resentment is over with me, if she gives me but one kind look.

All this time I was adjusting the horseman’s coat, and Will. was putting in the ties of my wig,* and buttoning the cape over my chin.

* The fashionable wigs at that time.

I asked the gentlewoman for a little powder.  She brought me a powder-box, and I slightly shook the puff over my hat, and flapt one side of it, though the lace looked a little too gay for my covering; and, slouching it over my eyes, Shall I be known, think you, Madam?

Your Honour is so expert, Sir!—­I wish, if I may be so bold, your lady has not some cause to be jealous.  But it will be impossible, if you keep your laced clothes covered, that any body should know you in that dress to be the same gentleman—­except they find you out by your clocked stockings.

Well observed—­Can’t you, Landlord, lend or sell me a pair of stockings, that will draw over these?  I can cut off the feet, if they won’t go into my shoes.

He could let me have a pair of coarse, but clean, stirrup stockings, if I pleased.

The best in the world for the purpose.

He fetch’d them.  Will. drew them on; and my legs then made a good gouty appearance.

The good woman smiling, wished me success; and so did the landlord.  And as thou knowest that I am not a bad mimic, I took a cane, which I borrowed of the landlord, and stooped in the shoulders to a quarter of a foot less height, and stumped away cross to the bowling-green, to practise a little the hobbling gait of a gouty man.—­The landlady whispered her husband, as Will. tells me, He’s a good one, I warrant him —­I dare say the fault lies not at all of one side.  While mine host replied, That I was so lively and so good-natured a gentleman, that he did not know who could be angry with me, do what I would.  A sensible fellow!—­I wish my charmer were of the same opinion.

And now I am going to try if I can’t agree with goody Moore for lodgings and other conveniencies for my sick wife.

‘Wife, Lovelace?’ methinks thou interrogatest.

Yes, wife, for who knows what cautions the dear fugitive may have given in apprehension of me?

‘But has goody Moore any other lodgings to let?’

Yes, yes; I have taken care of that; and find that she has just such conveniencies as I want.  And I know that my wife will like them.  For, although married, I can do every thing I please; and that’s a bold word, you know.  But had she only a garret to let, I would have liked it; and been a poor author afraid of arrests, and made that my place of refuge; yet would have made shift to pay beforehand for what I had.  I can suit myself to any condition, that’s my comfort.