art! Alack, woe is me! To whom have I borne so much love these many
years? To this disloyal dog, who, thinking to have a strange woman in
his arms, hath lavished on me more caresses and more fondnesses in
this little while I have been here with him than in all the rest of
the time I have been his. Thou hast been brisk enough to-day, renegade
cur that thou art, that usest at home to show thyself so feeble and
forspent and impotent; but, praised be God, thou hast tilled thine own
field and not, as thou thoughtest, that of another. No wonder thou
camest not anigh me yesternight; thou lookedst to discharge thee of
thy lading elsewhere and wouldst fain come fresh to the battle; but,
thanks to God and my own foresight, the stream hath e'en run in its
due channel. Why answerest thou not, wicked man? Why sayst thou not
somewhat? Art thou grown dumb, hearing me? Cock's faith, I know not
what hindereth me from thrusting my hands into thine eyes and tearing
them out for thee. Thou thoughtest to do this treason very secretly;
but, perdie, one knoweth as much as another; thou hast not availed to
compass thine end; I have had better beagles at thy heels than thou
thoughtest.'

Ricciardo inwardly rejoiced at these words and without making any
reply, clipped her and kissed her and fondled her more than ever;
whereupon quoth she, following on her speech, 'Ay, thou thinkest to
cajole me with thy feigned caresses, fashious dog that thou art, and
to appease and console me; but thou art mistaken; I shall never be
comforted for this till I have put thee to shame therefor in the
presence of all our friends and kinsmen and neighbours. Am I not as
fair as Ricciardo's wife, thou villain? Am I not as good a
gentlewoman? Why dost thou not answer, thou sorry dog? What hath she
more than I? Keep thy distance; touch me not; thou hast done enough
feats of arms for to-day. Now thou knowest who I am, I am well assured
that all thou couldst do would be perforce; but, so God grant me
grace, I will yet cause thee suffer want thereof, and I know not what
hindereth me from sending for Ricciardo, who hath loved me more than
himself and could never boast that I once even looked at him; nor know
I what harm it were to do it. Thou thoughtest to have his wife here
and it is as if thou hadst had her, inasmuch as it is none of thy
fault that the thing hath miscarried; wherefore, were I to have
himself, thou couldst not with reason blame me.'

Brief, many were t