FORESIGHT, MISS PRUE

MISS. O father, why will you let him go? Won't you make him to be
my husband?

FORE. Mercy on us, what do these lunacies portend? Alas! he's mad,
child, stark wild.

MISS. What, and must not I have e'er a husband, then? What, must I
go to bed to nurse again, and be a child as long as she's an old
woman? Indeed but I won't. For now my mind is set upon a man, I
will have a man some way or other. Oh, methinks I'm sick when I
think of a man; and if I can't have one, I would go to sleep all my
life: for when I'm awake it makes me wish and long, and I don't
know for what. And I'd rather be always asleep than sick with
thinking.

FORE. Oh, fearful! I think the girl's influenced too. Hussy, you
shall have a rod.

MISS. A fiddle of a rod, I'll have a husband; and if you won't get
me one, I'll get one for myself. I'll marry our Robin the butler;
he says he loves me, and he's a handsome man, and shall be my
husband: I warrant he'll be my husband, and thank me too, for he
told me so.


SCENE VII.