179/217 Hang her, 'tis pity such as she should ride. I think she is a witch; I have tired myself out With sticking pins in her pillow; still she scapes them-- _Butler_. And I with helping her to mum for claret, But never yet could cheat her dainty palate. Well, well, she is the guest of our good Mistress, And so should be respected. Though, I think, Our master cares not for her company, He would ill brook we should express so much By rude discourtesies, and short attendance, Being but servants. |