Alith. Did he not carry you yesterday to a play?
Mrs. Pinch. Ay; but we sat amongst ugly people. He would not let me come near the gentry, who sat under us, so that I could not see 'em. He told me, none but naughty women sat there, whom they toused and moused. But I would have ventured, for all that.
Alith. But how did you like the play?
Mrs. Pinch. Indeed I was weary of the play; but I liked hugeously the actors. They are the goodliest, properest men, sister!
Alith. O, but you must not like the actors, sister.
Mrs. Pinch. Ay, how should I help it, sister? Pray, sister, when my husband comes in, will you ask leave for me to go a-walking?
Alith. A-walking! ha! ha! Lord, a country-gentlewoman's pleasure is the drudgery of a footpost; and she requires as much airing as her husband's horses.—[Aside.] But here comes your husband: I'll ask, though I'm sure he'll not grant it.
Mrs. Pinch. He says he won't let me go abroad for fear of catching the pox.
Alith. Fy! the small-pox you should say.