[Sighs.]
FOND. Good lack, good lack, she would melt a heart of oak--I
profess I can hold no longer. Nay, dear Cocky--ifeck, you'll break
my heart--ifeck you will. See, you have made me weep--made poor
Nykin weep. Nay, come kiss, buss poor Nykin--and I won't leave
thee--I'll lose all first.
LAET. [Aside.] How! Heaven forbid! that will be carrying the
jest too far indeed.
FOND. Won't you kiss Nykin?
LAET. Go, naughty Nykin, you don't love me.
FOND. Kiss, kiss, ifeck, I do.
LAET. No, you don't. [She kisses him.]
FOND. What, not love Cocky!
LAET. No-h. [Sighs.]
FOND. I profess I do love thee better than five hundred pound--and
so thou shalt say, for I'll leave it to stay with thee.
LAET. No you sha'n't neglect your business for me. No, indeed,
you sha'n't, Nykin. If you don't go, I'll think you been dealous
of me still.
FOND. He, he, he, wilt thou, poor fool? Then I will go, I won't
be dealous. Poor Cocky, kiss Nykin, kiss Nykin, ee, ee, ee. Here
will be the good man anon, to talk to Cocky and teach her how a
wife ought to behave herself.
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