ANDROCLES.
No, dear: that is my fault.
MEGAERA.
That’s a nice thing to say to me. Aren’t you happy with me?
ANDROCLES.
I don’t complain, my love.
MEGAERA.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
ANDROCLES.
I am, my dear.
MEGAERA.
You’re not: you glory in it.
ANDROCLES.
In what, darling?
MEGAERA.
In everything. In making me a slave, and making yourself a laughing-stock. Its not fair. You get me the name of being a shrew with your meek ways, always talking as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. And just because I look a big strong woman, and because I’m good-hearted and a bit hasty, and because you’re always driving me to do things I’m sorry for afterwards, people say “Poor man: what a life his wife leads him!” Oh, if they only knew! And you think I don’t know. But I do, I do, (screaming) I do.
ANDROCLES.
Yes, my dear: I know you do.
MEGAERA.
Then why don’t you treat me properly and be a good husband to me?