Enter Anne Chute, R.
Anne Married! the wretch is married! and with that crime already on his conscience he was ready for another and similar piece of villainy. It’s the Navy that does it. It’s my belief those sailors have a wife in every place they stop at.
Myles [Sings outside, R.]
“Oh! Eily astoir, my love is all crost,
Like a bud in the frost.”
Anne Here’s a gentleman who has got my complaint—his love is all crost, like a bud in the frost.
Enter Myles, R.
Myles “And there’s no use at all in my goin’ to bed,
For it’s drames, and not sleep, that comes into my head,
And it’s all about you,” etc., etc.