Hip. Indeed!
Mons. And yet this man has been abroad as much as any man, and does not make the least show of it, but a little in his mien, not at all in his discour, jarni! He never talks so much as of St. Peter's church at Rome, the Escurial, or Madrid; nay, not so much as of Henry IV., of Pont-neuf, Paris, and the new Louvre, nor of the Grand Roi.
Hip. 'Tis for his commendation, if he does not talk of his travels.
Mons. Auh! auh!—cousine—he is conscious to himself of his wants, because he is very envious; for he cannot endure me.
Hip. [Aside.] He shall be my man then for that.—Ay, ay! 'tis the same, Prue.—[Aloud.] No, I know he can't endure you, cousin.
Mons. How do you know it—who never stir out? tête non!
Hip. Well—dear cousin,—if you will promise me never to tell my aunt, I'll tell you.
Mons. I won't, I won't, jarni!
Hip. Nor to be concerned yourself, so as to make a quarrel of it.