+Dor.+ Did ever man Of your hairs ask such questions? I do blush At your unreasonableness. +Ware.+ Nay, then---- +Dor.+ Is't fit I should be buried? +Ware.+ I reach you not. +Dor.+ Why, to lie with you were a direct emblem Of going to my grave. +War.+ I understand you. +Dor.+ I'll have your picture set in my weddingring For a Death's head. +Ware.+ I do conceive you. +Dor.+ I'd Rather lie with an ancient tomb, or embrace An ancestor than you. D'you think I'll come Between your winding-sheets? For what? To hear you Depart all night, and fetch your last groan; and I' th' morning find a deluge on the floor; Your entrails floating, and half my husband spit Upon the arras. +Ware.+ I am married---- +Dor.+ Then, For your abilities, should twelve good women Sit on these reverend locks, and on your heat And natural appetite, they would just find you As youthful as a coffin, and as hot As the sultry winter that froze o'er the Thames-- They say the hard time did begin from you. +Ware.+ Good, I am made the curse of watermen. +Dor.+ Your humours come frost from you, and your nose Hath icicles in June. +Ware.+ Assist me, patience! Why, hear you, mistress--you that have a fever And dog-days in your blood--if you knew this, Why did you marry me? +Dor.+ Ha, ha, ha! +Ware.+ She laughs. +Dor.+ That your experienc'd age,[258] that hath felt springs And falls this forty years, should be so dull To think I have not them that shall supply Your cold defects! +Ware.+ You have your servants, then, And I am fork'd? hum! +Dor.+ Do you think A woman young, high in her blood---- +Ware.+ And hot As goats or marmosites---- +Dor.+ Apt to take flame at Every temptation---- +Ware.+ And to kindle at The picture of a man---- +Dor.+ Would wed dust, ashes, A monument, unless she were---- +Ware.+ Crack'd, tried, and broken up? +Dor.+ Right, sir, or lack'd a cloak? +Ware.+ Mischief and hell! and was there none to make Your cloak but I? +Dor.+ Not so well-lin'd! +Ware.+ O, you Stay'd for a wealthy cuckold; your tame beast Must have his gilded horns? +Dor.+ Yes, sir; besides, Your age being impotent, you would, I knew, In conscience wink at my stol'n helps, if I Took comfort from abroad. +Ware.+ Yes, yes; yes, yes! You shall be comforted: I will maintain A stallion for you. +Dor.+ I will have friends come to me. So you'll conceal---- +Ware.+ Alas! I'll be your pander; Deliver letters for you, and keep the door. +Dor.+ I'll have a woman shall do that. +Ware.+ O impudence! Unheard-of impudence! +Dor.+ Then, sir, I'll look Your coffers shall maintain me at my rate. +Ware.+ How's that?