MRS GOUR. No, no, it shall not need: I am a scholar Good enough to read a letter, sir. MR GOUR. God's passion, if she know but the contents, She'll seek to cross this match! she shall not read it. [_Aside_.] Wife, give it me; come, come, give it me. MRS GOUR. Husband, in very deed, you shall not have it. MR GOUR. What, will you move me to impatience, then? MRS GOUR. Tut, tell not me of your impatience; But since you talk, sir, of impatience, You shall not have the letter, by this light, Till I have read it; soul, I'll burn it first! MR GOUR. Go to, ye move me, wife; give me the letter; In troth, I shall grow angry, if you do not. MRS GOUR. Grow to the house-top with your anger, sir! Ne'er tell me, I care not thus much for it. MR GOUR. Well, I can bear enough, but not too much. Come, give it me; 'twere best you be persuaded; By God--ye make me swear--now God forgive me!-- Give me, I say, and stand not long upon it; Go to, I am angry at the heart, my very heart. MRS GOUR. Heart me no hearts! you shall not have it, sir, No, you shall not; ne'er look so big, I will not be afraid at your great looks; You shall not have it, no, you shall not have it. MR GOUR. Shall I not have it? in troth, I'll try that: Minion, I'll ha''t; shall I not ha''t?--I am loth-- Go to, take pausement, be advis'd-- In faith, I will; and stand not long upon it-- A woman of your years! I am asham'd A couple of so long continuance Should thus--God's foot--I cry God heart'ly mercy!-- Go to, ye vex me; and I'll vex ye for it; Before I leave ye, I will make ye glad To tender it on your knees; hear ye, I will, I will. What, worse and worse stomach! true faith, Shall I be cross'd by you in my old age? And where I should have greatest comfort, too, A nurse of you?--nurse in the devil's name!-- Go to, mistress; by God's precious deer, If ye delay-- MRS GOUR. Lord, Lord, why, in what a fit Are you in, husband! so enrag'd, so mov'd, And for so slight a cause, to read a letter! Did this letter, love, contain my death, Should you deny my sight of it, I would not Nor see my sorrow nor eschew my danger, But willingly yield me a patient Unto the doom that your displeasure gave. Here is the letter; not for that your incensement [_Gives back the letter_.] Makes me make offer of it, but your health, Which anger, I do fear, hath craz'd[296], And viper-like hath suck'd away the blood That wont was to be cheerful in this cheek: How pale ye look!