_Cittie wife_. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man
counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye.
_Cornu_. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an
eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I
regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough.
_Cittie wife_. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house
too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee
fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home.
_Cor_. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no
anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough.
_Hostis_. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman
could awe her husband so well as she.
_Gracc_. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al
this while that _Iole_ shold make great _Hercules_ spit on his thombes
and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as _Caesar, Julius_ or
_Augustus_, or both in one, a woman may take him downe.
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