Old Mer. [within.] Strike up lively, lads.
Wife. I had not thought in truth, Master Merry-thought, that a man of your age and discretion, as I may say, being a gentleman, and therefore known by your gentle conditions, could have used so little respect to the weakness of his wife; for your wife is your own flesh, the staff of your age, your yoke-fellow, with whose help you draw through the mire of this transitory world. Nay, she is your own rib. And again——
Old Mer. "I come not hither for thee to teach,
I have no pulpit for thee to preach,
As thou art a lady gay."
Wife. Marry with a vengeance! I am heartily sorry for the poor gentlewoman; but if I were thy wife, i'faith, gray beard, i'faith——
Cit. I prithee, sweet honeysuckle, be content.
Wife. Give me such words that am a gentlewoman born, hang him, hoary rascal! Get me some drink, George, I am almost molten with fretting. Now beshrew his knave's heart for it.
Old Mer. Play me a light lavalto. Come, be frolic, fill the good fellows wine.
Mist. Mer. Why, Master Merry-thought, are you disposed to make me wait here. You'll open, I hope; I'll fetch them that shall open else.