MRS. FRAIL. No.
MRS. FORE. You deny it positively to my face?
MRS. FRAIL. Your face, what’s your face?
MRS. FORE. No matter for that, it’s as good a face as yours.
MRS. FRAIL. Not by a dozen years’ wearing. But I do deny it positively to your face, then.
MRS. FORE. I’ll allow you now to find fault with my face; for I’ll swear your impudence has put me out of countenance. But look you here now, where did you lose this gold bodkin? Oh, sister, sister!
MRS. FRAIL. My bodkin!
MRS. FORE. Nay, ’tis yours, look at it.
MRS. FRAIL. Well, if you go to that, where did you find this bodkin? Oh, sister, sister! Sister every way.
MRS. FORE. Oh, devil on’t, that I could not discover her without betraying myself. [Aside.]