But, for my sins, I cannot be deaf to yours,
Nattering me into my grave; and, likely, your words
Will flaffer about my lugs like channering peesweeps,
When I lie cold.

ELIZA:
Yes, I was young, and agape
For your wheedling flum, till it fleeched my self from me.
There’s something in a young girl seems to work
Against her better sense, and gives her up,
Almost in spite of her.

EZRA:
It’s nature.

ELIZA:
Then
Nature has more than enough to answer for.
Young, ay! And you, as gallant as the stallion,
With ribboned tail and mane, that pranced to the crack
Of my father’s whip, when first I saw you gaping,
Kenspeckle in that clamjamfrey of copers.

EZRA:
Love at first sight!

ELIZA:
And I was just as foolish
As you were braw.