Mrs. Dain. So, the little fellow is grown a private person—with her—[Apart to Mrs. Squeamish.
Lady Fid. But still my dear, dear honour—
Enter Sir Jasper Fidget, Horner, and Dorilant.
Sir Jasp. Ay, my dear, dear of honour, thou hast still so much honour in thy mouth—
Horn. That she has none elsewhere. [Aside.
Lady Fid. Oh, what d'ye mean to bring in these upon us?
Mrs. Dain. Foh! these are as bad as wits.
Mrs. Squeam. Foh!
Lady Fid. Let us leave the room.