Mrs. Mar. Yes indeed, sir, he is a terrible man.—Yet I durst meet with him in a piazza at midnight. [Aside.
Gripe. He shall never come into my doors again.
Mrs. Mar. Shall Mr. Dapperwit never come hither again then?
Gripe. No, child.
Mrs. Mar. I am afraid he will.
Gripe. I warrant thee.
Mrs. Mar. [Aside.] I warrant you then I'll go to him.—I am glad of that, for I hate him as much as a bishop.
Gripe. Thou art no child of mine, if thou dost not hate bishops and wits.—Well, Mrs. Joyner, I'll keep you no longer. [To Addleplot.] Jonas, wait on Mrs. Joyner.
Mrs. Joyn. Good night to your worship.