Cher. But who had you the money from? [86]
Gib. Ah! poor woman! I pitied her;-from a poor lady just eloped from her husband. She had made up her cargo, and was bound for Ireland, as hard as she could drive; she told me of her husband's barbarous usage, and so I left her half-a-crown. But I had almost forgot, my dear Cherry, I have a present for you.
Cher. What is 't?
Gib. A pot of ceruse, my child, that I took out of a lady's under-pocket.
Cher. What, Mr. Gibbet, do you think that I paint?
Gib. Why, you jade, your betters do; I 'm sure the lady that I took it from had a coronet upon her handkerchief. Here, take my cloak, and go, secure the premises. [101]
Cher. I will secure 'em. [Exit.
Bon. But, hark'ee, where's Hounslow and Bagshot?
Gib. They'll be here to-night.
Bon. D' ye know of any other gentlemen o' the pad on this road?