Sale. Fooneral? Is your breed dead?
Ware. Would she were,
I'd double your fee, Monsieur, to bury her.
Sale. Ee can but leetle English.
Ware. No, I see you are but new come over.
Sale. Dover! Tere Ee landed.
Ware. Ay, sir, pray walk in; that door
Will land you in my dining-room.
Sale. Ee tank you. [Exit.
Ware. This is the priest that married us.
Sea. This is a Frenchman, is't not?
Ware. 'Twas at the French church.