Phil. The rogue's too nimble for me.
Mir. Well, Philidor, farewell, I must
Go put
On a clean handkerchief.
Phil. And I
Must go see if I can find a believing
Haberdasher, else I shall be very
Ceremonious to every one I meet. [Exit.
Enter Fiddler.
Mir. A fiddle! nay, then I am made again;
I'd have a dance, if I had nothing but my
Smock on. Fiddler, strike up, and play my jig,
Call'd, I care not a pin for any man.
Fid. Indeed I can't stay: I am going to
Play to some gentlemen.
Mir. Nay, thou shalt stay
But a little.
Fid. Give me half-a-crown then.
Mir. I have no money about me. But here, take
My handkerchief. [Dance and Exit.