Susan. Believe me, my dear parents, my heart never gave birth to a thought my tongue feared to utter.
Ash. There, the very words I zaid?
Susan. If you wish to see the letter, I will shew it to you.
[She searches for the key.
Dame. Here's a key will open it.
Ash. Drabbit it, hold thy tongue, thou wold fool? [Aside.] No, Susan. I'll not zee it—I'll believe my child.
Susan. You shall not find your confidence ill-placed—it is true the gentleman declared he loved me; it is equally true that declaration was not unpleasing to me—Alas! it is also true, that his letter contains sentiments disgraceful to himself, and insulting to me.
Ash. Drabbit it, if I'd knaw'd that, when we were cudgelling a bit, I wou'd ha' lapt my stick about his ribs pratty tightish, I wou'd.
Susan. Pray, father, don't you resent his conduct to me.
Ash. What! mayn't I lather un a bit?