If there was any rubber here about.
Jul. Whist! how came you here, and why?
My father’s fence is very sharp and high,
And should he find you here—
Mer. The ugly cuss
Would straight salute us with a blunderbuss.
Rom. With love’s light wings did I the fence o’erleap
On sounding pinions—
Mer. Ain’t you getting steep?
Jul. I cannot hear you; pray come nearer, love.