Arch. My master's.
Gib. Really!
Arch. Really.
Gib. That 's much.—The fellow has been at the bar by his evasions.—But, pray, sir, what is your master's name?
Arch. Tall, all, dall!—[Sings and combs the periwig.] This is the most obstinate curl—
Gib. I ask you his name?
Arch. Name, sir—tall, all, doll!—I never asked him his name in my life.—Tall, all, doll! [131]
Bon. What think you now? [Aside to Gibbet.
Gib. [Aside to Boniface.] Plain, plain, he talks now as if he were before a judge.—[To Archer.] But pray, friend, which way does your master travel?
Arch. A-horseback.