That Ovid was a fool.
MODUS.

In what?
HELEN.

In that.
To call that thing an art which art is none.
She strikes the book from his hand, and reproves him for reading in the presence of a lady.
MODUS.

Right you say, And well you served me, cousin, so to strike The volume from my hand.

I own my fault: So please you--may I pick it up again?
I'll put it in my pocket.
It is the misfortune of the "book of the play" to be much maltreated by the _dramatis personae_.