LADY PLYANT. You firk him, I’ll firk him myself; pray, Sir Paul, hold you contented.
CYNT. Bless me, what makes my father in such a passion? I never saw him thus before.
SIR PAUL. Hold yourself contented, my Lady Plyant. I find passion coming upon me by inflation, and I cannot submit as formerly, therefore give way.
LADY PLYANT. How now! will you be pleased to retire and—
SIR PAUL. No, marry will I not be pleased: I am pleased to be angry, that’s my pleasure at this time.
MEL. What can this mean?
LADY PLYANT. Gads my life, the man’s distracted; why, how now, who are you? What am I? Slidikins, can’t I govern you? What did I marry you for? Am I not to be absolute and uncontrollable? Is it fit a woman of my spirit and conduct should be contradicted in a matter of this concern?
SIR PAUL. It concerns me and only me. Besides, I’m not to be governed at all times. When I am in tranquillity, my Lady Plyant shall command Sir Paul; but when I am provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reason: as soon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet says.
LADY PLYANT. He’s hot-headed still! ’Tis in vain to talk to you; but remember I have a curtain-lecture for you, you disobedient, headstrong brute.
SIR PAUL. No, ’tis because I won’t be headstrong, because I won’t be a brute, and have my head fortified, that I am thus exasperated. But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violator of my fame.