Fron. Why, friend, what villany? I hope my house is a civil house.
Ben. Yes, a very civil one; for my master lay in of his last clap there, and was treated very civilly, to my knowledge.
Mar. How's this, how's this?
Fron. Come, you are a dirty fellow, and I am known to be a person that—
Ben. Yes, you are known to be a person that—
Fron. Speak your worst of me; what person am I known to be?
Ben. Why, if you will have it, you are little better than a procuress: You carry messages betwixt party and party:—And, in one word, sir, she's as arrant a fruit-woman as any is about Rome.
Mar. Nay, if she be a fruit-woman, my nieces shall not enter her doors.
Ben. You had best let them enter, you do not know how they may fructify in her house: For I heard her, with these ears, whisper to them, that their friends were within call.
Mar. This is palpable, this is manifest; I shall remember you, lady fruiterer; I shall have your baskets searched when you bring oranges again.—Come away, nieces; and thanks, honest fellow, for thy discovery.
[Exeunt Mario and Women.