HOST.
Shew this poor Irishman into the barn; go, sirra.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter carrier and Kate.]
CLUB. Ho, who’s within here? who looks to the horses? God’s hat! here’s fine work: the hens in the manger, and the hogs in the litter. A bots found you all; here’s a house well looked to, yvaith.
KATE.
Mas, goffe Club, I’se very cawd.
CLUB.
Get in, Kate, get in to fire and warm thee. Ho! John
Hostler.
[Enter Hostler.]
HOSTLER. What, gaffer Club? welcome to saint Albans. How does all our friends in Lancashire?
CLUB.
Well, God have mercy, John; how does Tom; where’s he?
HOSTLER. O, Tom is gone from hence; he’s at the three horse-loves at Stony-stratford. How does old Dick Dunne?