SCENE II.
Warehouse, Dorcas.
Ware. My dearest Dorcas, welcome. Here you see
The house you must be mistress of, which with
This kiss I do confirm unto you.
Dor. Forbear, sir.
Ware. How! wife, refuse to kiss me?
Dor. Yes, unless
A sweeter air came from you; y' have turned my stomach.
I wonder you can be so rude to ask me,
Knowing your lungs are perish'd.
Ware. This is rare,
That I should live to this great age, and never
Till now know I was rotten!
Dor. I shall never
Endure your conversation: I hope you have
Contriv'd two beds, two chambers, and two tables.
It is an article, that I should live
Retir'd—that is, apart.
Ware. But pray you, wife, are you in earnest?
Dor. D'you think I'll jest with age?