If I was your wife wouldn’t I take the kinks out of those grizzly locks, though!
Mrs. Othello (to Helena).—What should this mean?
Helena.—O what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!
Mrs. Pet.—Ah, ladies, kind, sweet neighbors, how glad I am to see you here!
Mrs. Othello.—Do you have any pain here? (Touches head).
Helena.—Is not the plumb-bob of your mental plumb-line out of plumb?
Mrs. Pet.—
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul.
My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music: It is not madness