Bist

Thee bist rayther too much a feelosofer, I be afeard, for me.

Lookee, thee bist purty, my love; lookee, thee bist purty: thee hast dove's eyes betwix thy locks; thy locks be like a flock o' ship fur thickedness.

"[…] Stay thee where tha bist, sit down on thi property; what's the sense of wanderen over the barren sea and maybe happenen an accident?"

Where bist goin'. Where are you going?

How bist? How are you?