Flip. What's the matter now?
Cor. I shan't receive it.
Flip. Sure you jest.
Cor. You'll find I don't. I understand myself better, than to take letters, when I don't know who they are from.
Flip. I am afraid I commended your wit too soon.
Cor. 'Tis all one, I shan't touch it, unless I know who it comes from.
Flip. Hey-day, open it, and you'll see.
Cor. Indeed I shall not.
Flip. Well——then I must return it where I had it.
Cor. That won't serve your turn, madam. My father must have an account of this.