Margery Pinchwife is in love with a man from town named Mr. Horner,
Start: Pinchwife: Come, tell me, I say.
Mrs. Pinchwife: Lord! han't I told it a hundred times over?
Pinchwife: [Aside.] I would try, if in the repetition of the ungrateful tale, I could find her altering it in the least circumstance; for if her story be false, she is so too.—[Aloud.] Come, how was't, baggage?
Mrs. Pinchwife: Lord, what pleasure you take to hear it sure!
Pinchwife: No, you take more in telling it I find; but speak, how was't?
Mrs. Pinchwife: He carried me up into the house next to the Exchange.
Pinchwife: So, and you two were only in the room!
Mrs. Pinchwife: Yes, for he sent away a youth that was there, for some dried fruit, and China oranges.
Pinchwife: Did he so? Damn him for it—and for—
Mrs. Pinchwife: But presently came up the gentlewoman of the house.
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