Bro. By no mean cross her, she is then distemper'd
For worse than now she shows.
1 Fr. Yes, he's a fine man.
Daugh. Oh, is he so? you have a Sister.
1 Fr. Yes.
Daugh. But she shall never have him, tell her so,
For a trick that I know, y'had best look to her,
For if she see him once, she's gone, she's done,
And undone in an hour. All the young Maids
Of our Town are in love with him, but I laugh at 'em
And let 'em all alone, is't not a wise course?
1 Fr. Yes.
Daugh. There is at least two hundred now with child by him,
There must be four; yet I keep close for all this,
Close as a Cockle; and all these must be boys,
He has the trick on't, and at ten years old
They must be all gelt for Musicians,
And sing the wars of Theseus.
2 Fr. This is strange.
Daugh. As ever [you] heard, but say nothing.
1 Fr. No.