Bett. Ah! you Devils are you here, why did n't you come into the Pit to night, and eat an Orange,—who have you got with you, by my lost Maidenhead, a meer Country Widgeon, you sly Toads will bubble him finely; let me go snacks, or I'll discover it. Come, Fellows, drink about; positively it's very cold, fitting so behind at the Box Doors.
Shr. Honest Betty, here's Success to thee in ev'ry thing.
Bett. Ay, Faith, but there's little to do this Winter yet, now the Officers are come over, I hope, to have full Trade; I have had but one poor Shilling giv'n me to Night, and that was for carrying a Note from a Baronet in the Side Box to a Citizens Wife in the Gall'ry; but there was no harm in't, 'twas only to treat with her here by and by, about borrowing a hundred Pound of her Husband upon the Reversion of a Parsonage. [To Knap.] Red Coat your Inclinations. [To Tott.] Sir, prosperity t'you, you are got into hopeful Company.
Tott. Thank you, Mrs. Betty.
Shr. Prithee Betty give us a Song.
Bett. A Song, Pigsneyes, why, I have been roaring all Night with Six Temple Rakes at the Dog and Partridge Tavern in Wild-street, and am so hoarse I cou'd not sing a Line, were the whole Town to subscribe for me.
Knap. Take t'other Glass, Betty.
Bett. T'other Glass, Fellow, by the Bishop of Munster, these Puppies have a Design upon me! but give it me, however, for all that know me, know I never baulk my Glass.
Shr. But the Song, the Song, Betty. [She Sings