MRS ART. Knew I that mirth would make you love my bed,
I would enforce my heart to be more merry.

Y. ART. Do you not hear? she would enforce her heart!
All mirth is forc'd, that she can make with me.

Y. LUS. O misconceit, how bitter is thy taste!
Sweet Master Arthur, Mistress Arthur too,
Let me entreat you reconcile these jars,
Odious to heaven, and most abhorr'd of men.

MRS ART. You are a stranger, sir; but by your words
You do appear an honest gentleman.
If you profess to be my husband's friend,
Persist in these persuasions, and be judge
With all indifference in these discontents.
Sweet husband, if I be not fair enough
To please your eye, range where you list abroad,
Only, at coming home, speak me but fair:
If you delight to change, change when you please,
So that you will not change your love to me.
If you delight to see me drudge and toil,
I'll be your drudge, because 'tis your delight.
Or if you think me unworthy of the name
Of your chaste wife, I will become your maid,
Your slave, your servant--anything you will,
If for that name of servant and of slave
You will but smile upon me now and then.
Or if, as I well think, you cannot love me,
Love where you list, only but say you love me: