Neverout. Oh! Miss; I have heard a sad Story of you.
Miss. I defy you, Mr. Neverout; nobody can say, Black’s my Eye.
Neverout. I believe, you wish they could.
Miss. Well; but who was your Author? Come, tell Truth, and shame the Devil.
Neverout. Come then, Miss; guess who it was that told me; come, put on your Considering-cap.
Miss. Well, who was it?
Neverout. Why, one that lives within a Mile of an Oak.
Miss. Well, go hang yourself in your own Garters; for I’m sure, the Gallows groans for you.
Neverout. Pretty Miss! I was but in Jest.
Miss. Well, but don’t let that stick in your Gizzard.