[Enter Phoebe Marks, followed by Luke her cousin, from r., he is dressed in velveteen coat, flowered waistcoat, and cord breeches and gaiters, and has a rough dissipated appearance.]

Phoebe. I tell you, Marks, you mustn't come here.

Luke. And I tell'ee I will. You be my sweetheart, bound in promise to marry me these six years, and 'taint likely when I know you've a good place that I'm likely to cry off. You've been rising- in servitude o' late; first you were housemaid, then parlor-maid, now you be lady's maid, at the top o' the servant's tree like; so as that be the case, I, as your sweetheart, ought to reap some of the fruits. I wants some money. (holds out his hand)

Phoebe. (gives money) I wish you'd work, Luke, instead of skulking about from one public house to another all day