TATTLE.
Admirable! That was as well as if you had been born and bred in Covent Garden.
MISS PRUE.
Well, and there's a handsome gentleman, and a fine gentleman, and a sweet gentleman, that was here, that loves me, and I love him; and if he sees you speak to me any more, he'll thrash your jacket for you, he will; you great sea-calf.
BEN.
What! do you mean that fair-weather spark that was here just now? Will he thrash my jacket? Let'n, let'n, let'n—but an he comes near me, mayhap I may give him a salt-eel for's supper, for all that. What does father mean, to leave me alone, as soon as I come home, with such a dirty dowdy? Sea-calf! I an't calf enough to lick your chalked face, you cheese-curd you.
Now my mind is set upon a man; I will have a man some way or other. Oh! methinks I'm sick when I think of a man....
FORESIGHT.