VAL. I confess this is something extraordinary.

TATT. Not a word, as I hope to be saved; an errant lapsus linguae.
Come, let's talk of something else.

VAL. Well, but how did you acquit yourself?

TATT. Pooh, pooh, nothing at all; I only rallied with you--a woman
of ordinary rank was a little jealous of me, and I told her
something or other, faith I know not what.--Come, let's talk of
something else. [Hums a song.]

SCAN. Hang him, let him alone, he has a mind we should enquire.

TATT. Valentine, I supped last night with your mistress, and her
uncle, old Foresight: I think your father lies at Foresight's.

VAL. Yes.

TATT. Upon my soul, Angelica's a fine woman. And so is Mrs
Foresight, and her sister, Mrs Frail.

SCAN. Yes, Mrs Frail is a very fine woman, we all know her.

TATT. Oh, that is not fair.

SCAN. What?

TATT. To tell.