There you are wrong. I know her down in Kent.
LAURENCE.
You’ll get a sunstroke, standing with your head bare.
Sorry to differ. Jack, the word’s with you.
FRANK.
How is it, umpire? Though the motto’s threadbare,
“Cœlum non animum,” is, I take it, true.
JACK.
“Souvent femme varie,” as a rule, is truer.
Flatter’d, I’m sure—but both of you romance.
Happy to further suit of either wooer,
Merely observing—you haven’t got a chance.
LAURENCE.
Yes. But the Pipe—