Capt. But where's our corporal? Corporal, corporal!
Tim. Well, here's your corporal, an' you can be quiet. [Looks out.[60]
Sue. Look, an' he have not ensconced[61] himself in a wooden castle.
Tim. Is he gone that called us butterflies?
Mis. Coote. Yes, yes; h' has taken wing; and your brother's gone after him, to fight with him.
Tim. That's well; he cannot in conscience but do us the courtesy to kill him for us. Come, gallants, what shall we do? I'll never go home to go to bed with my guts full of four-shillings beer, when I may replenish them with sack. Ha! now am I as lusty! Methinks we two have blue beards. Is there ne'er a wench to be had? Drawer, bring us up impossibilities, an honest whore and a conscionable reckoning.
Lieut. Why, here's all fire-wit, whe'r[62] he will or no.
Sue. A whore! O tempting, handsome sir! think of a rich wife rather.
Tim. Tempting, handsome sir! She's not married, is she, gentlemen?
Capt. A woodcock springed! Let us but keep him in this bacchanalian mist till morning, and 'tis done. [Aside.