Not while her eyes be open will I yeelde
A word, a letter, a sillables valew,
But equall and make even her wrongs to me
To her againe. 130
M. Gou. Then, in good faith, wife, ye are more to blame.
Mi. Gou. Am I too blame, sir? pray, what letters this? [Snatches the letter.]
M. Gou. There is a dearth of manners in ye, wife,
Rudelie to snatch it from me. Give it me.
Mi. Gou. You shall not have it, sir, till I have read it. 135
M. Gou. Give me it, then, and I will read it to you.