Mes. Good Madam patience
Cleo. What say you?
Strikes him.
Hence horrible Villaine, or Ile spurne thine eyes
Like balls before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,
She hales him vp and downe.
Thou shalt be whipt with Wyer, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in lingring pickle
Mes. Gratious Madam,
I that do bring the newes, made not the match
Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a Prouince I will giue thee,
And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou had'st
Shall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage,
And I will boot thee with what guift beside
Thy modestie can begge
Mes. He's married Madam
Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liu'd too long.