Mood. Like enough! undone! undone! my daughter's gone! let me down, sirrah.
Land. Yes, Cudden.
Sir John. My mistress is gone, let me down first.
Land. This is the quickest way, Cudden.
[He offers to pull down the stools.
Sir John. Hold! hold! or thou wilt break my neck.
Land. An you will not come down, you may stay there, Cudden.
[Exit Landlord, dancing.
Mood. O scanderbag villains!
Sir John. Is there no getting down?
Mood. All this was long of you, Sir Jack.
Sir John. 'Twas long of yourself, to invite them hither.