Wild. Louder, louder, Madam.
Lure. I tell you, Sir, your wife was a jilt; I know it, I’ll swear it. She virtuous! she was a devil!
Wild. [Sings.] Tal, al, deral.
Lure. Was ever the like seen! He won’t hear me. I burst with malice, and now he won’t mind me! Won’t you hear me yet?
Wild. No, no, Madam.
Lure. Nay, then I can’t bear it. [Bursts out a crying.] Sir, I must say that you’re an unworthy person, to use a woman of quality at this rate, when she has her heart full of malice; I don’t know but it may make me miscarry. Sir, I say again and again, that she was no better than one of us, and I know it; I have seen it with my eyes, so I have.
Wild. Good heav’ns deliver me, I beseech thee. How shall I ’scape!
Lure. Will you hear me yet? Dear Sir Harry, do but hear me; I’m longing to speak.
Wild. Oh! I have it.—Hush, hush, hush.
Lure. Eh! what’s the matter?