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. But an he comes
near me, mayhap I may giv'n 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: --marry thee? Oons, I'll marry a
Lapland witch as soon, and live upon selling contrary winds and
wrecked vessels.

MISS. I won't be called names, nor I won't be abused thus, so I
won't. If I were a man [cries]--you durst not talk at his rate.
No, you durst not, you stinking tar-barrel.


SCENE VIII.


[To them] MRS FORESIGHT and MRS FRAIL.

MRS FORE. They have quarrelled, just as we could wish.

BEN. Tar-barrel? Let your sweetheart there call me so, if he'll
take your part, your Tom Essence, and I'll say something to him;
gad, I'll lace his musk-doublet for him, I'll make him stink: he
shall smell more like a weasel than a civet-cat, afore I ha' done
with 'en.

MRS FORE. Bless me, what's the matter, Miss? What, does she cry?