Sur monologue — The Alchemist

Lady, you see into what hands you are fall'n; 'Mongst what a nest of villains! and how near Your honour was t' have catch'd a certain clap, Through your credulity, had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, And other circumstances would have made a man; For you're a handsome woman: would you were wise too! I am a gentleman come here disguised, Only to find the knaveries of this citadel; And where I might have wrong'd your honour, and have not, I claim some interest in your love. You are, They say, a widow, rich: and I'm a batchelor, Worth nought: your fortunes may make me a man, As mine have preserv'd you a woman. Think upon it, And whether I have deserv'd you or no.