Ads wauntlikins! as soft and plump as a marrow-pudding.
[Exeunt severally.
Enter Sir Francis Wronghead and Mrs. Motherly.
Sir Fran. What! my wife and daughter abroad say you?
Moth. O dear Sir, they have been mighty busy all the day long; they just came home to snap up a short dinner, and so went out again.
Sir Fran. Well, well, I shan't stay supper for 'em, I can tell 'em that: For ods-heart! I have had nothing in me, but a toast and a tankard, since morning.
Moth. I am afraid, Sir, these late Parliament hours won't agree with you.
Sir Fran. Why, truly, Mrs. Motherly, they don't do right with us country gentlemen; to lose one meal out of three, is a hard tax upon a good stomach.
Moth. It is so indeed, Sir.