AN
AWFUL, DESPERATE AND BLOODY BATTLE,
F O R T H E
B R E E C H E S.
That was fought laſt Saturday night, between a lovely couple who have been married a whole fortnight, which ended not without blood bedding; together with the articles of agreement and pacification between them after the battle was all over.
Peter HOW now Dorothy, where have you been to day?
Dorothy. What's that to thee thou bold fac'd cuckold Rogue.
Peter. How no Dorothy, what's the matter with you what, are you drunk?
Dor. How drunk Sirrah. give me ſuch another word, and I'll make thy face ring againſt the wall, thou brazen fac'd raſcal and as thou likes that ſlap on the chops, ſo prates to me the next time.
Pet. How now. Dorothy, what's the matter with you now: what do you begin your old
tricks again? truly Dame; I ſcorn to take it at your hands as I have done, come take you that, you drunken Ouean.
Dor. but you cowardly Rogue, is this the manhood thou haſt gotten, to ſtrike a woman that has nothing in her hand?
Per. Come come, Dorothy, that matter ſhall be amended: here take thy rock I am ſure thou has not uſed it this many a day, except it was to break my head.
