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Of what! why, that you're a Cuckold; Sir, a Cuckold, if you'll ha't. Sir Cau. Cuckold! Sir, do ye know what ye say? Sir Feeb. What I say? Sir Cau. Ay, what you say, can you make this out? Sir Feeb. I make it out! Sir Cau. Ay, Sir if you say it, and cannot make it out, you're a Sir Feeb. What am I, Sir? What am I? Sir Cau.
An' I suppose it's natural, considerin' ye're little more than a child, an' I'm a'most old enough to be yer father, he retorted, with blunt bitterness. 'But ye know yer mother's took that dislike t' me. She'd never abide the sight o' me at Hootsey. He remained silent a moment, moodily reflecting. 'She'd jest ha't' git ower it. I see nought in that objection, he declared. 'Nay, Mr.
For Athenaeus does relate This Bottle is the Womb of Fate; Prolific of mysterious wine, And big with prescience divine, It brings the truth with pleasure forth; Besides you ha't a pennyworth. So, Friar John, I must exhort you To wait a word that may import you, And to inquire, while here we tarry, If it shall be your luck to marry. Friar John answers him in a rage, and says: How, marry! By St.
A gentleman standing next Walker exclaimed: 'A pack of damned witches and warlocks, that have the second sight, the deil ha't do I see'. 'And immediately there was a discernable change in his countenance, with as much fear and trembling as any woman I saw there, who cried out: "O all ye that do not see, say nothing; for I perswade you it is matter of fact, and discernable to all that is not stone-blind". Those who did see minutely described 'what handles the swords had, whether small or three-barred, or Highland guards, and the closing knots of the bonnets, black or blue. . . . I have been at a loss ever since what to make of this last, says Patrick Walker, and who is not at a loss?
Where win yo ha't put, Betty? 'Eh, I'm fain thae's brought it, said Betty. 'It's for th' chapel; an' it'll be wanted for Sunday. Sitho, set it deawn i' this front reawm here; an' mind what thae'rt doin' with it. So Robin, an' Barfoot Sam, an' Little Wamble, 'at looks after th' horses at 'Th' Rompin' Kitlin, geet it eawt o'th cart.
Not as I'm a-findin' faut wi' ye for't, for ye've no call to be frettin', an' somehow ye looken sorry too. Eh! Well, if the Methodies are fond o' trouble, they're like to thrive: it's a pity they canna ha't all, an' take it away from them as donna like it.
Sir, she's a Gentlewoman, and my Sister, Sir. Pert. All. A plain Case, a plain Case. Sir Feeb. Bred. Yes, Sir, and humbly ask your Pardon, and your Blessing Sir Feeb. You will ha't, whether I will or not rise, you are still too hard for us: Come, Sir, forgive your Nephew Sir Cau. Well, Sir, I will but all this while you little think the Tribulation I am in, my Lady has forsworn my Bed. Sir Feeb.
Odsbobs, that's Wormwood, that's Wormwood I shall have my young Hussey set a-gog too; she'll hear there are better things in the World than she has at home, and then odsbobs, and then they'll ha't, adod, they will, Sir Cautious. Ever while you live, keep a Wife ignorant, unless a Man be as brisk as his Neighbours. Sir Cau. A wise Man will keep 'em from baudy Christnings then, and Gossipings.
Wellhung lifts up the golden hatchet, peeps upon it, and finds it very heavy; then staring on Mercury, cries, Codszouks, this is none of mine; I won't ha't: the same he did with the silver one, and said, 'Tis not this neither, you may e'en take them again.
Sir, I pray let me ha't: I have wounds to show you, Which shall be yours in private. Your good voice, Sir; What say you? Second Cit. You shall have it, worthy Sir. Cor. A match, Sir: There is in all two worthy voices begg'd: I have your alms; adieu. First Cit. But this is something odd. Second Cit. An 'twere to give again, But 'tis no matter. Cor.
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