Madam. Den dou will refuse nothing dat I bid dee?

Rasor. Don't bid me be damn'd, then.

Madam. No, only tell dy Master all I have tell dee of dy Laty.

Rasor. Why, you little, malicious Strumpet, you, shou'd you like to be serv'd so?

Madam. Dou dispute den?—Adieu.

Rasor. Hold—But why wilt thou make me such a Rogue, my Dear?

Madam. Voila un vrai Anglois! Il est amoureux, et cependant il veut raisonner. Va t'en au Diable.

Rasor. Hold once more: In hopes thou'lt give me up thy Body, I resign thee my Soul.

Madam. Bon, ecoute donc;——If dou fail me——I never see de more——If dou obey me——Je m'abandonne a toy. [She takes him about the Neck, and gives him a smacking Kiss.]

[Exit Madamoiselle.