Tim. Gad zoors, she’s no better than she should be, I’ll warrant her.
Whiff. Look ye, Brother Whimsey, be patient; you know the humour of my Nancy, when she’s drunk; but when she’s sober, she’s a civil Person, and shall ask your pardon.
Whim. Let this be done, and I am satisfied. And so here’s to you. Drinks.
Dull. Go on to the Trial.
Grub. I being very angry, said indeed, I would prove her a greater Whore than Madam Whimsey.
Cler. An’t like your Worships, he confesses the Words in open Court.
Grub. Why, an’t like your Worships, she has had two Bastards, I’ll prove it.
Whiff. Sirrah, Sirrah, that was when she was a Maid, not since I marry’d her; my marrying her made her honest.
Dull. Let there be an order of Court to sue him for Scandalum magnatum.
Tim. Mr. Clerk, let my Cause come next.