Who's that batters our Doors so incivilly?

A Friend.

Hah, What luck's here?—'S bobs, as I hope to breath, a sinug-fac'd little Rogue.

Good morrow t'ye, young Man.

And to thee, my pretty young Woman.

I come to beg one Kindness—

Which I'd grant ye, if ye came at Midnight; but now I haven't the conveniency o' supplying your Wants.——What say'st thou, my feat little Chuck?

How now? Methinks you're a little too free tho'.

Bless me! the very Picture o' Venus! What sparkling Eyes! What a Shape! What a fine black Complexion! I meant, a lovely brown! What Bubbies! What sweet Lips are those!

I'm not for every one's turn; therefore stand off.

What not one gentle Kiss, my pretty sweet Rogue?

When I'm more at leasure, I may allow ye to toy a little. But now I must have an Answer, ay or no, to what I came for.

What wou'd ye have then?

This Bucket o' mine, shews clearly what I'd have.

And this Phiz o' mine, shews as clearly what I'd have.

The Priestess o' Venus sent me hither for a lit∣tle Water.

I'm just like a Courtier, you'll ne'r obtain any thing without a plaguy deal o' waiting. The Well's deep and dangerous; and not a drop you get, without a hundred fine Words and Caresses.

Why are you so sparing o' your Water to me, which you give every Stranger gratis?

And why are you sparing o' your Favours' to me, which you give every Citizen gratis.

Come, my Dear, I'll not stand for once.—

O rare, I'm ravish'd! She calls me Dear, too.——Thou shalt ha' Water; I won't be lov'd for nothing.—Gi' me the Bucket.

Here.—Prithee, make haste.

Stay. I'll be here i' the turning of a Hand, my Hony.