Mi. Ba. Fie, fie! I say, she shall not have my torch.—
Give me thy torch, boy:—I will run a tilt, 85
And burne out both her eyes in my encounter.
Mi. Go. Give roome, and lets have this hot cariere.[1925]
M. Go. I say, ye shall not: wife, go to, tame your thoughts
That are so mad with fury.
M. Ba. And, sweet wife, 90
Temper your rage with patience; do not be
Subject so much to such misgovernment.
Mi. Bar. Shal I not, sir, when such a strumpet wrongs me?