Sir Jasp. He's within in his chamber, with my wife; she's playing the wag with him.
Mrs. Squeam. Is she so? and he's a clownish beast, he'll give her no quarter, he'll play the wag with her again, let me tell you: come, let's go help her—What, the door's locked?
Sir Jasp. Ay, my wife locked it.
Mrs. Squeam. Did she so? let's break it open then.
Sir Jasp. No, no, he'll do her no hurt.
Mrs. Squeam. [Aside.] But is there no other way to get in to 'em? whither goes this? I will disturb 'em. [Exit at another door.
Enter Old Lady Squeamish.
L. Squeam. Where is this harlotry, this impudent baggage, this rambling tomrigg?[79] O Sir Jasper, I'm glad to see you here; did you not see my vile grandchild come in hither just now?
Sir Jasp. Yes.
L. Squeam. Ay, but where is she then? where is she? Lord, Sir Jasper, I have e'en rattled myself to pieces in pursuit of her: but can you tell what she makes here? they say below, no woman lodges here.