Enter MISTRESS GOURSEY.
Ere she came hither. How now, wife? how is't?
What, are ye yet in charity and love
With Mistress Barnes?
MRS GOUR. With Mistress Barnes! why Mistress[295] Barnes, I pray?
MR GOUR. Because she is your neighbour and—
MRS GOUR. And what?
And a jealous, slandering, spiteful quean she is,
One that would blur my reputation
With her opprobrious malice, if she could;
She wrongs her husband, to abuse my fame:
'Tis known that I have lived in honest name
All my lifetime, and been your right true wife.
MR GOUR. I entertain no other thought, my wife,
And my opinion's sound of your behaviour.
MRS GOUR. And my behaviour is as sound as it;
But her ill-speeches seeks to rot my credit,
And eat it with the worm of hate and malice.
MR GOUR. Why, then, preserve it you by patience.
MRS GOUR. By patience! would ye have me shame myself,
And cosen myself to bear her injuries?
Not while her eyes be open, will I yield
A word, a letter, a syllable's value.
But equal and make even her wrongs to me
To her again.
MR GOUR. Then, in good faith, wife, ye are more to blame.