Horn. Who is he? I never saw anything so pretty in all my life.
Pinch. Pshaw! do not look upon him so much, he's a poor bashful youth, you'll put him out of countenance.—Come away, brother. [Offers to take her away.
Horn. O, your brother!
Pinch. Yes, my wife's brother.—Come, come, she'll stay supper for us.
Horn. I thought so, for he is very like her I saw you at the play with, whom I told you I was in love with.
Mrs. Pinch. [Aside.] O jeminy! is that he that was in love with me? I am glad on't, I vow, for he's a curious fine gentleman, and I love him already, too.—[To Pinchwife.] Is this he, bud?
Pinch. Come away, come away. [To his Wife.
Horn. Why, what haste are you in? why won't you let me talk with him?
Pinch. Because you'll debauch him; he's yet young and innocent, and I would not have him debauched for anything in the world.—[Aside.] How she gazes on him! the devil!