Lady. By this light you are a scurvie fellow, pray be gone.
Elder Lo. You know I am a clean skin'd man.
Lady. Do I know it?
Elder Lo. Come, come, you would know it; that's as good: but not a snap, never long for't, not a snap dear Ladie.
Lady. Hark ye Sir, hark ye, get ye to the Suburbs, there's horse flesh for such hounds: will you goe Sir?
Elder Lo. Lord how I lov'd this woman, how I worshipt this prettie calf with the white face here: as I live, you were the prettiest fool to play withall, the wittiest little varlet, it would talk: Lord how it talk't! and when I angred it, it would cry out, and scratch, and eat no meat, and it would say, goe hang.
Lady. It will say so still, if you anger it.
Elder Lo. And when I askt it, if it would be married, it sent me of an errand into France, and would abuse me, and be glad it did so.
Lady. Sir this is most unmanly, pray by gon.
Elder Lo. And swear (even when it twitter'd to be at me) I was unhansome.