MRS. FAIN. So it seems; for you mind not what's said to you. If
you doubt him, you had best take up with Sir Wilfull.
MILLA. How can you name that superannuated lubber? foh!
SCENE VIII.
[To them] WITWOUD from drinking.
MRS. FAIN. So, is the fray made up that you have left 'em?
WIT. Left 'em? I could stay no longer. I have laughed like ten
Christ'nings. I am tipsy with laughing--if I had stayed any longer
I should have burst,--I must have been let out and pieced in the
sides like an unsized camlet. Yes, yes, the fray is composed; my
lady came in like a NOLI PROSEQUI, and stopt the proceedings.
MILLA. What was the dispute?
WIT. That's the jest: there was no dispute. They could neither of
'em speak for rage; and so fell a sputt'ring at one another like two
roasting apples.
SCENE IX.
[To them] PETULANT drunk.
WIT. Now, Petulant? All's over, all's well? Gad, my head begins
to whim it about. Why dost thou not speak? Thou art both as drunk
and as mute as a fish.
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