Sir Greg. O dissembling Marmaset! If I durst speak,
Or could be believ'd when I speak,
What a tale could I tell, to make hair stand upright now!
Neece. Nay, Sir, at your request you shall perceive, Uncle,
With what renewing love I forgive this:
Here's a fair Diamond, Sir, I'll try how long
You can keep that.
Sir Greg. Not very long, you know't too,
Like a cunning witch as you are.
Neece. Y'are best let him ha' that too.
Sir Greg. So I were, I think, there were no living else,
I thank you, as you have handled the matter.
O. K. Why this is musical now, and Tuesday next
Shall tune your Instruments, that's the day set.
Neece. A match, good Uncle.
O. K. Sir, you hear me too?
Sir Greg. Oh very well, I'm for you.
Neece. What e'er you hear, you know my mind.