Bride. Since you’ll needs fence, handle your weapon well,
For if you take a yard, I’ll take an ell.
Reach me an ell!
Lod. An ell for my mistress! [Brings an ell wand from the shop. Keep the laws of the noble science, sir, and measure weapons with her; your yard is a plain heathenish weapon; ’tis too short, she may give you a handful, and yet you’ll not reach her.
Cand. Yet I ha’ the longer arm.—Come fall to’t roundly,
And spare not me, wife, for I’ll lay’t on soundly:
If o’er husbands their wives will needs be masters,
We men will have a law to win’t at wasters.[259]
Lod. ’Tis for the breeches, is’t not?
Cand. For the breeches!
Bride. Husband, I’m for you, I’ll not strike in jest.
Cand. Nor I.
Bride. But will you sign to one request?
Cand. What’s that?
Bride. Let me give the first blow.