Moll. O sweet Sim, what shall I do to-morrow? To-morrow must be the day, the doleful day, the dismal day! Alas, Sim! what dost thou think in thy conscience I shall do with an old man?
Sim. Nay, you're well enough served; you know how your brother, not an hour ago, lay at you to have the Ancient, one that your teeth e'en water at; and yet you cry, I cannot love him, I wonnot have him.
Moll. I could willingly marry him, if I might do nothing but look on him all day, where he might not see me; but to lie with him—alas! I shall be undone the first night.
Sim. That's true: how will you go to bed else? But, remember, he is a man of war, an ancient, you are his colours: now, when he has nimbly displayed you, and handsomely folded you up against the next fight, then we shall have you cry, O sweet Sim, I had been undone, if I had not been undone.[79]
Moll. Nay, and then the old fellow would mumble me to bed.
Sim. Abed! a bawd with two teeth would not mumble bacon so: then he is so sparing, you shall wear nothing but from the broker's at second-hand; when, being an ancient's wife, you shall be sure to flourish.
Moll. Prythee, go in and busy the old man with a piece of Reynard the Fox,[80] that he may not disturb us; for at this hour I expect Ancient Young and my brother.
Sim. Well, I leave you to the managing of Ancient Young, while I go in and flap the old man i' th' mouth with a fox-tail. [Exit.
Enter Alexander and Ancient.