Lucy. I shall hear you sing another tune presently. (Aside)
Skin. Pray Niece, give me leave to salute you. You are welcome to London. (Kisses him) My Eyes are but bad—yet I think I can discover a strong Resemblance of my Sister in you. (Peering in his Face)
Shar. Yes Sir, I was reckoned very like my Mama before I was married, but frequent Child bearing you know, Sir, will alter a Woman strangely for the worse.
Skin. It will so, Niece; you are a Widow I perceive.
Shar. Yes Sir, an unfortunate Widow (Weeps). I never had a dry Eye since my Husband died.
Skin. Pray Niece, what did your Husband die of?
Shar. He broke his Neck a Fox Hunting.
Skin. Good lack, good lack! That was dreadful.
Shar. Ay Sir, and tho' I was but one and twenty when he died, he left me both a Widow and a Mother; so early a Grief you may be sure must have robbed me of my Bloom and has broke me mightily.
Skin. As you were a Widow, Niece, at one and twenty, I don't suppose your Husband left you many Children.