Dro. E. Perdie, your doors were lock’d, and you shut out.
Ant. E. And did not she herself revile me there?
70 Dro. E. Sans fable, she herself reviled you there.
Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?
Dro. E. [Certes], she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn’d you.
Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
Dro. E. In verity you did; my bones [bear] witness,
75 That since have felt the [vigour] of [his] rage.
Adr. Is’t good to soothe him in these contraries?
Pinch. It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein,