Miss Betty. I'll at 'em, tho' I die for't.
Sir Fran. Ah, my poor child, take care.
[Runs to stop the throw.
Miss Betty. There.
Capt. Out—twenty pound], young lady.
Sir Fran. False dice, Sir.
Capt. False dice, Sir? I scorn your words——twenty pounds, Madam.
Miss Betty. Undone, undone!
Sir Fran. She shan't pay you a farthing, Sir; I won't have miss cheated.
Capt. Cheated, Sir?