Troth, I think, I’ll believe you in preference as to what you say. But, wife, do grant pardon to your husband for this; Myrrhina, do entreat Cleostrata! If ever, from this time forward, I love Casina, or even think of it, should I love her, I say, should I ever hereafter, in fact, be guilty of such a thing, there’s no reason, wife, why you shouldn’t lash me with twigs as I hang up by the arms.