Cher. What a rogue is my father! My father! I deny it——My mother was a good, generous, free-hearted woman, and I can't tell how far her goodnature might have extended for the good of her children. This landlord of mine, for I think I can call him no more, would betray his guest, and debauch his daughter into the bargain,——by a footman too!
Enter Archer.
Arch. What footman, pray, mistress, is so happy as to be the subject of your contemplation?
Cher. Whoever he is, friend, he'll be but little the better for't.
Arch. I hope so, for, I'm sure, you did not think of me.
Cher. Suppose I had?
Arch. Why then you're but even with me; for the minute I came in, I was considering in what manner I should make love to you.
Cher. Love to me, friend!
Arch. Yes, child.
Cher. Child! manners; if you kept a little more distance, friend, it would become you much better.