Mrs. Sul. And my husband shows you what you must suffer.
Sul. 'Sdeath, why can't you be silent?
Mrs. Sul. 'Sdeath, why can't you talk?
Sul. Do you talk to any purpose?
Mrs. Sul. Do you think to any purpose?
Sul. Sister, harkye—[Whispers.] I shan't be home till it be late. [Exit.
Mrs. Sul. What did he whisper to ye?
Dor. That he would go round the back way, come into the closet, and listen, as I directed him.—But let me beg once more, dear sister, to drop this project; for, as I told you before, instead of awaking him to kindness, you may provoke him to rage; and then who knows how far his brutality may carry him?
Mrs. Sul. I'm provided to receive him, I warrant you; away! [Exeunt.