MR. POUR. Another!

ORO. What a devil of a man!

LUC. An' what be yeu a-tullin' o', wai yur vurbeedin' an' yur
'angin'? Thiki man's yo-ur uzban, is ur?

NER. You're rait, Missis, an aa'm joost his woif.

LUC. That's a lie then; 'tis me that's the rail weiv o' un; an eef
'ee ought vur to be a'anged, why 'tis me that ought vur to 'ave it
adeud.

NER. Me; aa can mak nowt o' that soort o' talk.

LUC. I do tul 'ee 'ow that I be 'is weiv.

NER. His woif?

LUC. Ees fie!

NER. Aa tell ye once more, that it's me at's joost that.

LUC. An' I vows an' declares as 'ow tez me, my own zul.

NER. 'Twere fowr yeer agone 'at he wed me.

LUC. An' me, tez zeben yur sinz 'e teuk me vur 'iz weiv.