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Hor. I say, a husband.
Gre. I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though
her father be very rich, [any] man is so very a fool to be
married to hell?
Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and
mine to endure her [loud] [alarums,] why, man, there be good
fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would
take her with [all] faults, and money enough.