Sim. They're both a-concluding on't yonder; to-morrow's the day; one wedding-dinner must serve both marriages.
Moll. O Sim! the Ancient, the delicate Ancient; there's a man, and thou talk'st of a man; a good face, a sparkling eye, a straight body, a delicate hand, a clean leg and foot. Ah, sweet Sim! there's a man worth a maidenhead.
Enter Bloodhound and Ear-lack.
Sim. But I say, Master Ear-lack, the old man! a foot like a bear, a leg like a bed-staff, a hand like a hatchet, an eye like a pig, and a face like a winter peony;[47] there's a man for a maidenhead.
Moll. O look, look! O, alas! what shall I do with him?
Sim. What? why, what shall fifteen do with sixty and twelve? make a screen of him; stand next the fire, whilst you sit behind him and keep a friend's lips warm. Many a wench would be glad of such a fortune.
Blood. Your oath struck it dead then, o' my side?
Ear. Five hundred deep of your side, i' faith, father.
Blood. Moll, come hither, Moll; I hope Sim has discovered the project.
Ear. And to-morrow must be the day, Moll; both of a day: one dinner shall serve. We may have store of little ones; we must save for our family.