Fried. Nay, never heed them—girls are all alike—
Mere jealous jades! Thy first and foremost thoughts
Were for another. There’s the mischief of it.
Hadst thou but spoken lightly of thy cousin
A shower of praise would have been poured upon her!
Gott. A plague upon their scurril serpent-tongues!
In the old days they knew no jealousy.
My blood is all a-chill! I shake with fear!
I’ll to her house at once, and ere an hour,
I’ll learn the best and worst!