Mistress Mul. That you might have your arms graved on the side?
Mul. Ha!
Mistress Mul. By the same token you were dry-shaven this morning before you went forth. 101
Mul. Pah! how this salmon stinks!
Mistress Mul. And thereupon sent the bowl back, prepar’d dinner—nay, and I bear not a brain.
Mul. Wife, do not vex me! Is the bowl gone?—is it deliver’d?
Mistress Mul. Deliver’d! Yes, sure, ’tis deliver’d.
Mul. I will never more say my prayers. Do not make me mad; ’tis common. Let me not cry like a woman. Is it gone? 110
Mistress Mul. Gone? God is my witness, I deliver’d it with no more intention to be cozen’d on’t than the child new born; and yet——
Mul. Look to my house! I am haunted with evil spirits! Hear me; do hear me! If I have not my goblet again, heaven! I’ll to the devil,—I’ll to a conjurer. Look to my house! I’ll raise all the wise men i’ the street.