Brass. Gad forgive me; I'm the forgetfullest dog——I have a letter for you too——here——'tis in a purse, but it's in prose, you won't touch it.
Flip. Yes, hang it, it is not good to be too dainty.
Brass. How useful a virtue is humility! Well, child, we shall have an answer to-morrow, shan't we?
Flip. I can't promise you that; for our young gentlewoman is not so often in my way as she would be. Her father (who is a citizen from the foot to the forehead of him) lets her seldom converse with her mother-in-law and me, for fear she should learn the airs of a woman of quality. But I'll take the first occasion: see, there's my lady, go in and deliver your letter to her.
[Exeunt.
SCENE, a Parlour.
Enter Clarissa, follow'd by Flippanta and Brass.
Clar. No messages this morning from any body, Flippanta? Lard how dull that is! O, there's Brass! I did not see thee, Brass. What news dost thou bring?
Brass. Only a letter from Araminta, Madam.