I'm for carrying things above board, I'm not for keeping anything
under hatches,--so that if you ben't as willing as I, say so a God's
name: there's no harm done; mayhap you may be shame-faced; some
maidens thof they love a man well enough, yet they don't care to
tell'n so to's face. If that's the case, why, silence gives
consent.

MISS. But I'm sure it is not so, for I'll speak sooner than you
should believe that; and I'll speak truth, though one should always
tell a lie to a man; and I don't care, let my father do what he
will; I'm too big to be whipt, so I'll tell you plainly, I don't
like you, nor love you at all, nor never will, that's more: so
there's your answer for you; and don't trouble me no more, you ugly
thing.

BEN. Look you, young woman, you may learn to give good words,
however. I spoke you fair, d'ye see, and civil. As for your love
or your liking, I don't value it of a rope's end; and mayhap I like
you as little as you do me: what I said was in obedience to father.
Gad, I fear a whipping no more than you do. But I tell you one
thing, if you should give such language at sea, you'd have a cat o'
nine tails laid cross your shoulders. Flesh! who are you? You
heard t'other handsome young woman speak civilly to me of her own
accord. Whatever you think of yourself, gad, I don't think you are
any more to compare to her than a can of small-beer to a bowl of
punch.

MISS. 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