Mrs. Pinch. Shan't I say, "Dear Sir?"—You know one says always something more than bare "sir."
Pinch. Write as I bid you, or I will write whore with this penknife in your face.
Mrs. Pinch. Nay, good bud—"Sir"—[Writes.
Pinch. "Though I suffered last night your nauseous, loathed kisses and embraces"—Write!
Mrs. Pinch Nay, why should I say so? You know I told you he had a sweet breath.
Pinch. Write!
Mrs. Pinch. Let me but put out "loathed."
Pinch. Write, I say!
Mrs. Pinch. Well then. [Writes.