Rip.
[Aside.] La! what a stew I'm in. Alice take yourself off, 'tis full time. Wish I was off too, mit all my heart and soul.
Alice.
[Aside.] Dear, dear! what will become of my poor Knickerbocker. [Exit.
Derric.
Well, honest Rip, how wags the world with you?
Rip.
Bad enough, sir, for though [labouring][70] from morn to night, I can make no advance in de world, though my industry is proverbial, and dat's a fact.
Derric.
Why, where the bottle is concerned, few, I believe, can boast so much industry.