_Enter_ MISTRESS ARTHUR.

MRS ART. Come, Master Arthur, shall we in to dinner?
Sirrah, begone, and see it served in.

Y. LUS. Will you not speak unto her?

Y. ART. No, not I; will you go in, sir.

MRS ART. Not speak to me! nor once look towards me!
It is my duty to begin, I know,
And I will break this ice of courtesy.
You are welcome home, sir.

Y. ART. Hark, Master Lusam, if she mock me not!
_You are welcome home, sir_. Am I welcome home?
Good faith, I care not if I be or no.

Y. LUS. Thus you misconstrue all things, Master Arthur.
Look, if her true love melt not into tears.

Y. ART. She weeps, but why? that I am come so soon,
To hinder her of some appointed guests,
That in my absence revel in my house:
She weeps to see me in her company,
And, were I absent, she would laugh with joy.
She weeps to make me weary of the house,
Knowing my heart cannot away with grief.