Mrs. Mossop.
Ah, well, well! somebody must play the bad parts in this world, on and off the stage. There [returning the scissors], there's no more edge left to fray; we've come to the soft. [He points the scissors at his breast.] Ah! don't do that!
[Original]
Tom.
You are right, sweet Mossop, I won't perish on an empty stomach. [Taking her aside.] But tell me, shall I disgrace the feast, eh? Is my appearance too scandalously seedy?
Mrs. Mossop.
Not it, my dear.