I wish you to judge for yourself.
Men.She is there?
Chr.She is there, do you ask?
Ay, to my cost she is there. No sooner she comes to the door,
Than all is to be topsy-turvy. She calls me ‘old man!’
Asks if the bath is ready, and presently calls for wine.
She’ll take a ‘whetting brusher,’ she says. The quantity
She wasted in merely tasting was more than most men drink.
She kept me an hour on my legs before she was pleased, and then
Drank like a fish, & laughed at nothing & everything.