Plot. Ha' you your wits? What mean you?
Bright. Go, put on
One of thy Temple suits, and accompany us,
Or else thy dimity breeches will be mortal.
Plot. You will not strip me, will you?
New. By thy visible ears, we will.
Bright. By this two-handed beaver, which is so thin
And light, a butterfly's wings put to't would make it
A Mercury's flying hat, and soar aloft.
Plot. But do you know, to how much danger
You tempt me? Should my uncle know I come
Within the air of Fleet Street——
New. Will you make
Yourself fit for a coach again, and come
Along with us?
Plot. Well, my two resolute friends,
You shall prevail. But whither now are your
Lewd motions bent?
New. We'll dine at Roseclap's: there
We shall meet Captain Quartfield and his poet;
They shall show us another fish.
Bright. But, by the way, we have agreed to see
A lady, you mechanic.