Wheedling

Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, "Canst thou not let me in, my little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would like to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from Gruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen."

ESTRAGON: That would be too bad, really too bad. [Pause.] Wouldn't it, Didi, be really too bad? [Pause.] When you think of the beauty of the way. [Pause.] And the goodness of the wayfarers. [Pause. Wheedling.] Wouldn't it, Didi?