EUCLID. Yes.
FANNY. And then my having to cut capers with that nasty thing over my head; I should not wonder if I took to my bed and died.
EUCLID. Then you may think yourself very fortunate, I assure you. I expect no such luck as to die in my bed.
FANNY. I tried to amuse myself; I took up an old volume of the Newgate Calender.
EUCLID. Horrid book! It will be increased some pages soon, I dare say.
FANNY. It was about a man who murdered another man.
EUCLID. Only killed one man! A mere babe of innocence compared with you and me; but I shall sit up all night, and you must do the same, and we’ll convey, you know what, out of here, and pitch it in the river.
Enter ROBERT, R., with cloth, knives, &c.; lays cloth.
Seem as if nothing had happened.