165 Ant. S. How can she thus, then, call us by our names,
Unless it be by inspiration.
Adr. How ill agrees it with [your] gravity
To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
170 Be it my wrong you are from me exempt,
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness, married to thy [stronger] state,