Corn. Hence Cornego, stay Captaine! when man and woman are put together some egge of villany is sure to be sate upon. [Exit.
Bal. What would you say to him should kill this man that hath you so dishonoured?
Onae. Oh, I woo'd crowne him With thanks, praise, gold, and tender of my life.
Bal. Shall I bee that Germane Fencer[195] and beat all the knocking boyes before me? shall I kill him?
Onae. There's musick in the tongue that dares but speak it.
Bal. That fiddle then is in me; this arme can doo't by ponyard, poyson, or pistoll; but shall I doo't indeed?
Onae. One step to humane blisse is sweet revenge.
Bal. Stay; what made you love him?
Onae. His most goodly shape Married to royall virtues of his mind.
Bal. Yet now you would divorce all that goodnesse; and why? for a little letchery of revenge? it's a lye: the Burre that stickes in your throat is a throane: let him out of his messe of Kingdomes cut out but one, and lay Sicilia, Arragon, Naples or any else upon your trencher, and you'll prayse Bastard[196] for the sweetest wine in the world and call for another quart of it. 'Tis not because the man has left you but because you are not the woman you would be, that mads you: a shee-cuckold is an untameable monster.