SIR PAUL. Thy, Thy, come away, Thy; touch him not. Come hither,
girl; go not near him, there's nothing but deceit about him. Snakes
are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his belly; he
will eat thee up alive.

LADY PLYANT. Dishonourable, impudent creature!

MEL. For heav'n's sake, madam, to whom do you direct this language?

LADY PLYANT. Have I behaved myself with all the decorum and nicety
befitting the person of Sir Paul's wife? Have I preserved my honour
as it were in a snow-house for these three years past? Have I been
white and unsullied even by Sir Paul himself?

SIR PAUL. Nay, she has been an invincible wife, even to me; that's
the truth on't.

LADY PLYANT. Have I, I say, preserved myself like a fair sheet of
paper for you to make a blot upon?

SIR PAUL. And she shall make a simile with any woman in England.

MEL. I am so amazed, I know not what to say.

SIR PAUL. Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature--gadsbud,
she's a wife for a cherubim!--do you think her fit for nothing but
to be a stalking horse, to stand before you, while you take aim at
my wife? Gadsbud, I was never angry before in my life, and I'll
never be appeased again.