Ger. Was it, faith?
Hip. Methinks you might believe me without an oath. You saw I could dissemble with my father, why should you think I could not with you?
Ger. So young a wheedle!
Hip. Ay, a mere damned jade I am.
Ger. And I have been abused, you say?
Hip. 'Tis well you can believe it at last.
Ger. And I must never hope for you?
Hip. Would you have me abuse you again?
Ger. Then you will not go with me?
Hip. No: but, for your comfort, your loss will not be great; and that you may not resent it, for once I'll be ingenuous, and disabuse you.—I am no heiress, as I told you, to twelve hundred pounds a-year; I was only a lying jade then.—Now will you part with me willingly, I doubt not.