But scarce had the honeymoon passed o’er their heads,
When one morning to Zantippe, Socrates said,
“I think for a man of my standing in life,
This house is too small as I now have a wife:
So without further delay Carpenter Cary
Shall be sent for to widen my house and my dairy.”
“Now, Socrates, dearest,” Zantippe replied,
“I hate to hear everything vulgarly my’d;
Now, whenever you speak of your chattles again,
Say our cowhouse, our barn-yard; our pig-pen.”