Miss Hard. I can't but laugh to think what time they all have for minding their work or their family.
Marl. (Aside.) All's well, she don't laugh at me. (To her. ) Do you ever work, child?
Miss Hard. Ay, sure. There's not a screen or a quilt in the whole house but what can bear witness to that.
Marl. Odso! Then you must show me your embroidery. I embroider and draw patterns myself a little. If you want a judge of your work, you must apply to me.
Seizing her hand.
Miss Hard. Ay, but the colours don't look well by candle-light. You shall see all in the morning.
Struggling.
Marl. And why not now, my angel? Such beauty fires beyond the power of resistance.—Pshaw! the father here! My old luck: I never nicked seven, that I did not throw ames-ace three times following.
Exit Marlow.
Enter Hardcastle, who stands in surprise.