-'nt

Hold your foolish Tongue, Mr. Metal, said she, and get you to-bed; have’nt I plague enough with this audacious Slut, do you think, without your meddling and making?

1756, anonymous author, Emily; or, The History of a Natural Daughter, London: F. Noble & J. Noble, Volume I, Book III, p. 205

To be sure! This will do! I shall be fain to think a summut of ee, now you can flamgudgin 'em a thisn. I did'nt a think it was innee. Why you will become a son of my own begettin. I write to tellee the good news, and that ee mightn't a kick down the milk. You have a sifflicated Sir Arthur. I could a told ee afore that you had a sifflicated Missee. But I was afeard as that you wur a too adasht. But I tellee it will do! Father's own lad! An ear-tickler! Ay, ay! That's the trade! Sugar the sauce, and it goes down glibly.

1792, Thomas Holcroft, Anna St. Ives. a Novel

That too would have been very handsomely done, if you had'nt handled catridge instead of shettin pan, but I suppose you want noticing.

1811, “Militia Muster”, in The Baltimore Repertory of Papers on Literary and Other Topics […] , volume 2, Baltimore: Joseph Robinson, page 27