Dort. Uds, pretious you young contagious Whore, must you be ticing? and, Is your flesh so wranck, Sir, that two may live upon't? I am glad to hear your Cortalls grown so lusty; he was dry founder'd t'other day, wehee my pamper'd Jade of Asia.
Vio. Good Woman do not hurt me, I am sorry that I have given any cause of anger.
Dor. Either bind her quickly, and come away, or by this steel I'll [tell], though I truss for company; now could I eate her broyl'd, or any way, without Vinegar, I must have her Nose.
Vio. By any thing you love best, good Sir, good Woman.
Tin. Why her Nose, Dorothy?
Dor. If I have it not, and presently [and] warm, I lose that I go withal.
Tin. Wood the Devil had that thou goest withall, and thee together, for sure he got thy whelps if thou hast any, shees thy deere dad, Whore! put up your cutpurse; an I take my switch up, 'twill be a black time with you else, sheth your bung Whore.
Dor. Will you bind her? we shall stand here prating, and be [hang'd] both.
Tin. Come, I must bind you, not a word, no crying.
Vio. Do what you will, indeed I will not cry.