Hus. Well, the thought is ta'en. I see one must thank God for a shrew as well as for a sheep, though the sheep have more wool on his back, and affords a more savoury repast at the board. Hanging and wedding go by destiny, and I hold the former to be the happier destiny of the twain; yet he that will practise the art of swinging in a halter, either to please or cross a shrew's humour, let him hang like a puppy without hope of pity, and die intestate to make his wife heir on't, till some nimble younker become his successor, and, stumbling on his grave, laugh at the cuckoldly slave.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Enter the cashiered Confidants, in a discontented posture.
Flo. Summoned to appear! for what? What have we done?
Car. Incensed those humorous scornful ladies.
Thence rose the ground, I durst wager my beaver on't;
They ought us a spite, and their information has done't.
Pal. This falls pat on their resolves: for those disdainful wenches, in the heat of their passion, vowed jointly that revenge should kick up our heels.
Sal. Our heels are not so short, though theirs be. Should they pursue this information, it would dart highly on their dishonour.
Mor. Honour! what may that be in this age, but an airy title? These bona-robas have not lost the art of ingratiating, nor deluding their servants. There be chimneys enough at court to convey their smoke. Beauty and confidence keep strong sentinels in love's army. They cannot want solicitors in a place of liberty.