BEN. So, so, enough, father, Mess, I’d rather kiss these gentlewomen.
SIR SAMP. And so thou shalt. Mrs. Angelica, my son Ben.
BEN. Forsooth, if you please. [Salutes her.] Nay, mistress, I’m not for dropping anchor here; about ship, i’faith. [Kisses Frail.] Nay, and you too, my little cock-boat—so [Kisses Miss].
TATT. Sir, you’re welcome ashore.
BEN. Thank you, thank you, friend.
SIR SAMP. Thou hast been many a weary league, Ben, since I saw thee.
BEN. Ay, ay, been! Been far enough, an’ that be all. Well, father, and how do all at home? How does brother Dick, and brother Val?
SIR SAMP. Dick—body o’ me—Dick has been dead these two years. I writ you word when you were at Leghorn.
BEN. Mess, that’s true; marry! I had forgot. Dick’s dead, as you say. Well, and how? I have a many questions to ask you. Well, you ben’t married again, father, be you?
SIR SAMP. No; I intend you shall marry, Ben; I would not marry for thy sake.