HASTINGS. Well, and what then?
MARLOW. She’s mine, you rogue you. Such fire, such motion, such eyes, such lips; but, egad! she would not let me kiss them though.
HASTINGS. But are you so sure, so very sure of her?
MARLOW. Why, man, she talked of showing me her work above stairs, and I am to improve the pattern.
HASTINGS. But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her honour?
MARLOW. Pshaw! pshaw! We all know the honour of the bar-maid of an inn. I don’t intend to rob her, take my word for it; there’s nothing in this house I shan’t honestly pay for.
HASTINGS. I believe the girl has virtue.
MARLOW. And if she has, I should be the last man in the world that would attempt to corrupt it.
HASTINGS. You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to lock up? Is it in safety?
MARLOW. Yes, yes. It’s safe enough. I have taken care of it. But how could you think the seat of a post-coach at an inn-door a place of safety? Ah! numskull! I have taken better precautions for you than you did for yourself——I have——