Flesh and Bloud is but Flesh and Bloud; and the Indulging of Inordinate
Appetites is the Ruine of Body, Soul, and Estate. This Fellow should have
Consulted the Circumstances of his Constitution, before he made that
Desperate Leap; for when a Man is Plung’d into an Irrevocable State of
Misery, he has but a Cold bus’ness on’t to Comfort himself with a Jest.
And ’twas but a Measuring Cast at Last neither, whether he meant his Wife
should have to do with the _Wolfe_, in _One_ Sense, or the _Wolfe_ with
his _Wife_ in _Another_.