HE.—You shall not vex me, though your treatment’s rough;

No, madam, I am made of sterner stuff.

SHE.—Stuff.

HE.—Really, if thus your minister you flout,

A single syllable he can’t get out.

SHE.—Get out!

HE.—But try me, madam; time indeed will show

Unto what lengths to serve you I would go.

SHE.—Go.

HE.—We both have power,—’tis doubtful which is greater;