And, on my Conscience, I e’en fell aboard of her,
And was as well accommodated for my five,
As five Hundred Pounds, and so return’d.
Alb. A great defeat to the Lady the while, word.
Lor. Ay, she smelt the Plot, and made a Vow to follow
The Italian mode for the future;
And be serv’d in Affairs of that kind by none
But an old Woman.
Alb. ’Twas wittily resolv’d.
Lor. Are you for the Presence this Morning?