Whit. Yes fait, shweet-heart, believe him, de leef of a bond-woman! but if dou vilt hearken to me, I vill make tee a free woman and a lady; dou shalt live like a lady, as te captain saish.
Knock. Ay, and be honest too sometimes; have her wires and her tires, her green gowns and velvet petticoats.
Whit. Ay, and ride to Ware and Rumford in dy coash, shee de players, be in love vit ’em: sup vit gallantsh, be drunk, and cost de noting.
Knock. Brave vapours!
Whit. And lie by twenty on ’em, if dou pleash, shweet-heart.
Mrs. Lit. What, and be honest still! that were fine sport.
Whit. Tish common, shweet-heart, tou may’st do it by my hand: it shall be justified to thy husband’s faish, now: tou shalt be as honesht as the skin between his hornsh, la.
Knock. Yes, and wear a dressing, top and top-gallant, to compare with e’er a husband on ’em all, for a foretop: it is the vapour of spirit in the wife to cuckold now a days, as it is the vapour of fashion in the husband not to suspect. Your prying cat-eyed citizen is an abominable vapour.
Mrs. Lit. Lord, what a fool have I been!