Flip. So, get you in immediately.
Cor. One, two, three and away.
[Running off.
Flip. And prevent your mother's speaking on't.
Cor. But is t'other way sure, Flippanta?
Flip. Fear nothing, 'twill only depend upon you.
Cor. Nay then——O ho, ho, ho, how pure that is!
[Exit Corinna.
Flippanta sola.
Poor child! we may do what we will with her, as far as marrying her goes; when that's over, 'tis possible she mayn't prove altogether so tractable. But who's here? my sharper, I think: yes.