Dor. Stay, stay, brother, you shan't get off so; you were very naught last night, and must make your wife reparation; come, come, brother, won't you ask pardon?
Squire Sul. For what?
Dor. For being drunk last night.
Squire Sul. I can afford it, can't I? [109]
Mrs. Sul. But I can't, sir.
Squire Sul. Then you may let it alone.
Mrs. Sul. But I must tell you, sir, that this is not to be borne.
Squire Sul. I 'm glad on't.
Mrs. Sul. What is the reason, sir, that you use me thus inhumanly?
Squire Sul. Scrub!