Mrs. Caut. Come, come, I cannot but speak: I tell you, beware in time; for he is no dancing-master, but some debauched person who will mump you of your daughter.
Don. Will you be wiser than I still? Mump me of my daughter! I would I could see any one mump me of my daughter.
Mrs. Caut. And mump you of your mistress too, young Spaniard.
Mons. Ha! ha! ha! will you be wiser than I too, voto? Mump me of my mistress! I would I could see any one mump me of my mistress.—[Aside to Gerrard and Hippolita.] I am afraid this damned old aunt should discover us, I vow and swear: be careful therefore and resolute.
Mrs. Caut. He! he does not go about his business like a dancing-master. He'll ne'er teach her to dance; but he'll teach her no goodness soon enough, I warrant.—He a dancing-master!
Mons. Ay, the devil eat me if he be not the best dancing-master in England now!—[Aside to Gerrard and Hippolita.] Was not that well said, cousin? was it not? for he's a gentleman dancing-master, you know.
Don. You know him, cousin, very well? cousin, you sent him to my daughter?
Mons. Yes, yes, uncle:—know him!—[Aside.] We'll ne'er be discovered, I warrant, ha! ha! ha!
Mrs. Caut. But will you be made a fool of too?
Mons. Ay, ay, aunt, ne'er trouble yourself.