Edm. O! dearest husband, calm thy ruffled soul,
They mean not to offend your grace; perchance,
They know not of thy wish for their attendance.
Vor. Peace, then; and with thy words, whet not, I pray,
That wrath, which kindles sore within my breast!
Again, dost hear me, bid thy tongue be silent,
’Twere better else, thou didst retire.
Edm. I go, and though a vulture gnaw my heart,
I’d bear it all with meekness and with patience,
Rather than this my voice should e’er offend thee.