Ruffian.
I hope there arn’t no gammon in the matter?
Hubert.
That’s my look out. What right have you to chatter?
Vanish!
[Exit Ruffian.
Song.—Hubert.
Air.—“There’s light in her laughing eye.”
There’s a tooth in his little gum;
’Tis a pearl a garnet broach within,