GREEN. But, my Betsy.
BETSY. Your Betsy! Come, I like that. I’d have you to know, sir, my name’s Elizabeth.
GREEN. Never mind your name—I must go in.
BETSY. Oh, very well; if you must, you must; but, mind, I tell you, my mistress is not alone.
GREEN. Hey? What do you say? Not alone? Who has she with her?
BETSY. Who should she have, but a gentleman?
GREEN. Stop, stop—my wife—a gentleman!—in her room—there—and I her husband—here—what does it mean? Hah! a horrid suspicion fills my mind—o—oh! my head!
BETSY. I thought so. I see you’re dreadfully intoxicated; you’d better go to bed—do! You’ll be ashamed of yourself in the morning. I never see a gentleman so drunk in my life—never! Go to bed, I advise you.
GREEN. Go to the devil! I’ll penetrate this horrid mystery, and know the worst at once.
BETSY. Then you may depend on having your bones broken.