, dost think, uses to get my Children but my self?

_Nurse._ Nay, I can't tell; you must look to that, for my part I ne're
knew you get any.

_Comp._ Say'st thou so? Why, look you, do but put on a clean Smock, and
try me, if thou darst, I'll hold thee three to one I get thee with Child
before I leave thee: Heh! what say'st thou?

[_Offers to lay hold on her._.

_Nurse._ I'll see you hang'd first--Nay, pray be quiet, and don't offer
to spoil my Milk. Lord, you are as boisterous as my Husband was the
first Night we were married: Pray, Goody _Compass_, take off your Cur,
or else he'l bite me.

_Peg._ No never fear him, Nurse, he's not so furious I assure ye.

_Enter Mr._ Venter _and his Wife._

_Nurse._ O! here's my Master, the Child's Father, now talk with him.

Mr. _Ven._ Good morrow Neighbour, good morrow to ye both.

_Comp._ Both! Good morrow to you and your Wife too, if you go to that.

Mr. _Ven._ I wou'd speak calmly with you, Friend, if you think fit.

_Comp._ I know what belongs to Calm, and a Storm too; and if you please,
a cold word or two wi' you.

Mr. _Ven._ With all my Heart.

_Comp._ I understand that you have ty'd your Mare in my Ground.

Mr. _Ven._ My Mare, Friend, nay I assure you, 'twas only my Nag.

_Comp._ Your Nag? Well your Nag then let it be: Harke, Sir, to be short,
I'll cut off your Nag's Tail, if e're I catch him there again.

Mr. _Ven._ Pray hear me, you are too rough to maintain----

_Comp._ I say, Sir, you shall maintain no Child of mine; my Wife does
not bestow her Labour for that purpose.

Mr. _Ven._ You are too passionate--I will not maintain----

_Comp._ No marry shall you not.

Mr. _Ven._ The Deed I have done to be lawful, I have repented it, and
given Satisfaction to the Law, my Purse has paid for't; therefore I
wou'd treat milder with you if you'd be pleased.

_Comp._ Yes, yes, I am very well pleased, and shall be better pleased if
you can serve me so still: For, look you Sir, one of these Days I shall
to Sea again, you know where my Wife lives; yet you'l but lose your
labour, for get as many Children as you can, I assure you, you shall
keep none of them.

Mr. _Ven._ I think you are mad.

_Comp._ Why, if I am Horn-mad, what's that to you?

Mr. _Ven._ Nay then, since you are so rough, I tell you plainly you
are--a----

_Comp._ A what? What am I, heh?

Mr. _Ven._ A Coxcomb.

_Comp._ A Coxcomb! a Cuckold you mean, and you a Fool for your pains.

Mr. _Ven._