Mart. Lord, how I hate this fellow now; how desperately
My stomach stands against him; this base fellow,
This gelded fool!
Jul. Did you never hear of modesty?
Mart. Yes, when I heard of you and so believ'd it,
Thou bloodless, brainless fool.
Vir. How?
Mart. Thou despised fool,
Thou only sign of man, how I contemn thee!
Thou woven worthy in a piece of Arras,
Fit only to enjoy a wall; thou beast
Beaten to use; Have I preserv'd a beauty,
A youth, a love, to have my wishes blasted?
My dotings, and the joys I came to offer,
Must they be lost, and sleighted by a dormouse?
Jl. Use more respect; and woman, 'twill become you;
At least, less tongue.
Mart. I'll use all violence,
Let him look for't.
Jul. Dare you stain those beauties,
Those heavenly stamps, that raise men up to wonder,
With harsh and crooked motions? are you she
That overdid all ages, with your honor;
And in a little hour dare loose this triumph?
Is not this man your husband?
Mart. He's my halter;
Which (having sued my pardon) I fling off thus,
And with him all I brought him, but my anger;
Which I will nourish to the desolation,
Not only of his folly, but his friends,
And his whole name.
Vir. 'Tis well, I have deserved it.
And if I were a woman, I would rail too.