SCENE VIII.
[To her] Sir Paul.
SIR PAUL. Madam, sister, my lady sister, did you see my lady my wife?
LADY TOUCH. Oh! Torture!
SIR PAUL. Gads-bud, I can’t find her high nor low; where can she be, think you?
LADY TOUCH. Where she’s serving you, as all your sex ought to be served, making you a beast. Don’t you know you’re a fool, brother?
SIR PAUL. A fool; he, he, he, you’re merry. No, no, not I, I know no such matter.
LADY TOUCH. Why, then, you don’t know half your happiness.
SIR PAUL. That’s a jest with all my heart, faith and troth. But harkee, my lord told me something of a revolution of things; I don’t know what to make on’t. Gads-bud, I must consult my wife:—he talks of disinheriting his nephew, and I don’t know what. Look you, sister, I must know what my girl has to trust to, or not a syllable of a wedding, gads-bud!—to show you that I am not a fool.
LADY TOUCH. Hear me: consent to the breaking off this marriage, and the promoting any other without consulting me, and I’ll renounce all blood, all relation and concern with you for ever; nay, I’ll be your enemy, and pursue you to destruction: I’ll tear your eyes out, and tread you under my feet.