Chapter VII: Epilogue (4)

_Peter._ Is the wind there again?

_Fred._ Be gone.

_Peter._ I am Sir. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Constantia.

_Fre._ Now enter without fear.--And noble Lady
That safety and civility ye wish'd for
Shall truly here attend you: no rude tongue
Nor rough behaviour knows this place, no wishes
Beyond the moderation of a man,
Dare enter here; your own desires and Innocence,
Joyn'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect you,
Were dangers more than doubts.

_Const._ Ye are truly noble,
And worth a womans trust: let it become me,
(I do beseech you, Sir) for all your kindness,
To render with my thanks, this worthless trifle;
I may be longer troublesome.

_Fred._ Fair offices
Are still their own rewards: Heav'n bless me Lady
From selling civil courtesies: may it please ye,
If ye will force a favour to oblige me,
Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfie me
For what good Angel I am engag'd.

_Const._ It shall be,
For I am truly confident ye are honest:
The Piece is scarce worth looking on.

_Fred._ Trust me
The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness,
Defend me honest thoughts, I shall grow wild else:
What eyes are there, rather what little heavens,
To stir mens contemplations! what a Paradise
Runs through each part she has! good bloud be temperate:
I must look off: too excellent an object
Confounds the sense that sees it. Noble Lady,
If there be any further service to cast on me,
Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye,
Or the engagement of whole Families.

_Const._ Your service is too liberal, worthy Sir,
Thus far I shall entreat.

_Fred._ Command me Lady,
You make your power too poor.

_Const._ That presently
With all convenient haste, you would retire
Unto the street you found me in.

_Fred._ 'Tis done.

_Const._ There, if you find a Gentleman opprest
With force and violence, do a mans office,
And draw your sword to rescue him.

_Fred._ He's safe,
Be what he will, and let his foes be Devils,
Arm'd with your pity, I shall conjure 'em.
Retire, this key will guide ye: all things necessary
Are there before ye.

_Const._ All my prayers go with ye. [_Exit._

_Fred._ Ye clap on proof upon me: men say gold
Does all, engages all, works through all dangers:
Now I say beauty can do more: The Kings Exchequer,
Nor all his wealthy _Indies_, could not draw me
Through half those miseries this piece of pleasure
Might make me leap into: we are all like sea-Cards,
All our endeavours and our motions,
(As they do to the North) still point at beauty,
Still at the fairest: for a handsom woman,
(Setting my soul aside) it should go hard,
But I would strain my body: yet to her,
Unless it be her own free gratitude,
Hopes ye shall dye, and thou tongue rot within me,
E're I infringe my faith: now to my rescue. [_Exit._

_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Duke, _pursued by_ Petruccio, Antonio,
_and that Faction_.

_Duke._ You will not all oppress me?

_Ant._ Kill him i'th' wanton eye: let me come to him.

_Duke._ Then ye shall buy me dearly.

_Petr._ Say you so Sir?

_Ant._ I say cut his Wezand, spoil his piping;
Have at your love-sick heart Sir.

_Enter Don_ John.

_John._ Sure 'tis fighting.
My friend may be engag'd: fie Gentlemen,
This is unmanly odds.

_Ant._ I'le stop your mouth Sir.

[Du. _fals down_, _Don_ John _bestrides him_.

_John._ Nay, then have at thee freely:
There's a plumb Sir to satisfie your longing.

_Petr._ Away: I hope I have sped him: here comes rescue,
We shall be endangered: where's _Antonio_?

_Ant._ I must have one thrust more Sir.

_John._ Come up to me.

_Ant._ A mischief confound your fingers.

_Petr._ How is't?

_Ant._ Well:
Ha's given me my _quietus est_, I felt him
In my small guts, I'me sure, has feez'd me:
This comes of siding with ye.

_2 Gent._ Can you go Sir?

_Ant._ I should go man, and my head were off,
Never talk of going.

_Petr._ Come, all shall be well then,
I hear more rescue coming.

_Enter the_ Dukes _Faction_.

_Ant._ Let's turn back then;
My skull's uncloven yet, let me but kill.

_Petr._ Away for Heaven sake with him.

_John._ How is't?

_Duke._ Well Sir,
Only a little stagger'd.

_Faction Duke._ Let's pursue 'em.

_Du._ No not a man, I charge ye: thanks good coat,
Thou hast sav'd me a shrewd welcom: 'twas put home too,
With a good mind I'me sure on't.

_John._ Are ye safe then?

_Duke._ My thanks to you brave Sir, whose timely valour,
And manly courtesie came to my rescue.

_John._ Ye'had foul play offer'd ye, and shame befal him
That can pass by oppression.

_Duke._ May I crave Sir,
But thus much honour more, to know your name?
And him I am so bound to?

_John._ For the Bond Sir,
'Tis every good mans tye: to know me further
Will little profit ye; I am a stranger,
My Country _Spain_; my name _Don John_, a Gentleman
That lye here for my study.

_Duke._ I have heard Sir,
Much worthy mention of ye, yet I find
Fame short of what ye are.

_John._ You are pleas'd Sir,
To express your courtesie: may I demand
As freely what you are, and what mischance
Cast you into this danger?

_Duke._ For this present
I must desire your pardon: you shall know me
E're it be long Sir, and a nobler thanks
Than now my will can render.

_John._ Your will's your own Sir.

_Duke._ What is't you look for sir, have you lost any thing?

_John._ Only my hat i'th' scuffle; sure these fellows
Were night-snaps.

_Duke._ No, believe Sir: pray ye use mine,
For 'twill be hard to find your own now.

_John._ No Sir.

_Du._ Indeed ye shall, I can command another:
I do beseech ye honour me.

_John._ I will Sir,
And so I'le take my leave.

_Duke._ Within these few days
I hope I shall be happy in your knowledge,
Till when I love your memory. [_Exit_ Duke, _&c._

_John._ I yours.
This is some noble fellow.

_Enter_ Frederick.

_Fred._ 'Tis [h]is tongue sure.
_Don John_?

_John._ _Don Frederick_?

_Fred._ Ye're fairly met Sir:
I thought ye had been a Bat-fowling: prethee tell me,
What Revelations hast thou had to night,
That home was never thought of?

_John._ Revelations?
I'le tell thee _Frederick_, but before I tell thee,
Settle thy understanding.

_Fred._ 'Tis prepar'd, Sir.

_John._ Why then mark what shall follow. This night _Frederick_,
This bawdy night.

_Fred._ I thought no less.

_John._ This blind night,
What dost think I have got?

_Fred._ The Pox it may be.

_John._ Would 'twere no worse: ye talk of Revelations,
I have got a Revelation will reveal me
An arrant Coxcomb while I live.

_Fred._ What is't?
Thou hast lost nothing?

_John._ No, I have got I tell thee.

_Fred._ What hast thou got?

_John._ One of the Infantry, a child.

_Fred._ How?

_John._ A chopping child, man.

_Fred._ 'Give ye joy, Sir.

_John._ A lump of lewdness _Frederick_, that's the truth on't:
This Town's abominable.

_Fred._ I still told ye _John_
Your whoring must come home; I counsell'd ye:
But where no grace is--

_John._ 'Tis none o' mine, man.

_Fred._ Answer the Parish so.

_John._ Cheated introth:
Peeping into a house, by whom I know not,
Nor where to find the place again: no _Frederick_,
Had I but kist the ring for't; 'tis no poor one,
That's my best comfort, for't has brought about it
Enough to make it man.

_Fred._ Where is't?

_John._ At home.

_Fred._ A saving voyage: But what will you say Signior,
To him that searching out your serious worship,
Has met a stranger fortune?

_John._ How, good _Frederick_?
A militant girle now to this boy would hit it?

_Fred._ No, mine's a nobler venture: What do you think Sir
Of a distressed Lady, one whose beauty
Would oversell all _Italy_?

_John._ Where is she--

_Fred._ A woman of that rare behaviour,
So qualified, as admiration
Dwells round about her: of that perfect spirit--

_John._ I marry Sir.

_Fred._ That admirable carriage,
That sweetness in discourse; young as the morning,
Her blushes staining his.

_John._ But where's this creature?
Shew me but that.

_Fred._ That's all one, she's forth-coming,
I have her sure Boy.

_John._ Hark ye _Frederick_,
What truck betwixt my Infant?

_Fred._ 'Tis too light Sir,
Stick to your charges good _Don John_, I am well.

_John._ But is there such a wench?

_Fred._ First tell me this,
Did ye not lately as ye walk'd along,
Discover people that were arm'd, and likely
To do offence?

_John._ Yes marry, and they urg'd it
As far as they had spirit.

_Fred._ Pray go forward.

_Joh._ A Gentleman I found ingag'd amongst 'em,
It seems of noble breeding, I'm sure brave metal,
As I return'd to look you, I set in to him,
And without hurt (I thank heaven) rescued him,
And came my self off safe too.

_Fred._ My work's done then:
And now to satisfie you, there is a woman,
Oh _John_, there is a woman--

_John._ Oh, where is she?

_Fred._ And one of no less worth than I assure ye;
And which is more, fain under my protection.

_John._ I am glad of that: forward sweet _Frederick_.

_Fred._ And which is more than that, by this nights wandring,
And which is most of all, she is at home too Sir.

_John._ Come, let's be gone then.

_Fred._ Yes, but 'tis most certain,
You cannot see her, _John_.

_John._ Why?

_Fred._ She has sworn me
That none else shall come near her: not my Mother,
Till some few doubts are clear'd.

_John._ Not look upon her? What chamber is she in?

_Fred._ In ours.

_John._ Let's go I say:
A womans oaths are wafers, break with making,
They must for modestie a little: we all know it.

_Fred._ No, I'le assure you Sir.

_John._ Not see her?
I smell an old dog trick of yours, well _Frederick_,
Ye talkt to me of whoring, let's have fair play,
Square dealing I would wish ye.

_Fred._ When 'tis come,
(Which I know never will be) to that issue,
Your spoon shall be as deep as mine Sir.

_John._ Tell me,
And tell me true, is the cause honourable,
Or for your ease?

_Fred._ By all our friendship, _John_,
'Tis honest, and of great end.

_John._ I am answer'd:
But let me see her though: leave the door open
As ye go in.

_Fred._ I dare not.

_John._ Not wide open,
But just so, as a jealous husband
Would level at his wanton wife through.

_Fred._ That courtesie,
If ye desire no more, and keep it strictly,
I dare afford ye: come, 'tis now near morning. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Peter, _and_ Anthony.

_Pet._ Nay the old woman's gone too.

_Ant._ She's a Catterwauling
Among the gutters: But conceive me, _Peter_,
Where our good Masters should be?

_Pet._ Where they should be
I do conceive, but where they are, good _Anthony_--

_Ant._ I, there it goes: my Masters bo-peep with me,
With his slye popping in and out again,
Argued a cause, a frippery cause.

_Pet._ Believe me,
They bear up with some carvel.

_Ant._ I do believe thee,
For thou hast such a Master for that chase,
That till he spend his main Mast--

_Pet._ Pray remember
Your courtesie good _Anthony_, and withal,
How long 'tis since your Master sprung a leak,
He had a sound one since he came. [_Lute sounds within._

_Ant._ Hark.

_Pet._ What?

_Ant._ Dost not hear a Lute?
Again?

_Pet._ Where is't?

_Ant._ Above in my Masters chamber.

_Pet._ There's no creature: he hath the key himself man.

SING _within_.

_Merciless Love, whom nature hath deny'd_
_The use of eyes, lest thou should'st take a pride_
_And glorie in thy murthers: Why am I_
_That never yet transgress'd thy deity,_
_Never broke vow, from whose eyes never_
_Flew disdainfull dart_
_Whose hard heart never,_
_Slew those rewarders?_
_Thou art young and fair,_
_Thy Mother soft and gentle as the air,_
_Thy holy fire still burning, blown with praier._
_Then everlasting Love restrain thy will_
_'Tis God-like to have power but not to kill._

_Ant._ This is his Lute: let him have it.

_Pet._ I grant you; but who strikes it?

_Ant._ An admirable voice too, hark ye.

_Pet._ _Anthony_,
Art sure we are at home?

_Ant._ Without all doubt, _Peter_.

_Pet._ Then this must be the Devil.

_Ant._ Let it be, [_Sing again._
Good Devil sing again: O dainty Devil!
_Peter_ believe it, a most delicate Devil,
The sweetest Devil--

_Enter_ Frederick, _and Don_ John.

_Fred._ If ye could leave peeping.

_John._ I cannot by no means.

_Fred._ Then come in softly,
And as ye love your faith, presume no further
Than ye have promised.

_John._ _Basta._

_Fred._ What make you up so early Sir?

_John._ You Sir in your contemplations.

_Pet._ O pray ye peace Sir.

_Fred._ Why peace Sir?

_Pet._ Do you hear?

_John._ 'Tis your Lute.

_Fred._ Pray ye speak softly,
She's playing on't.

_Ant._ The house is haunted Sir,
For this we have heard this half year.

_Fred._ Ye saw nothing?

_Ant._ Not I.

_Pet._ Nor I Sir.

_Fred._ Get us our breakfast then,
And make no words on't; we'll undertake this spirit,
If it be one.

_Ant._ This is no Devil _Peter_. [_Sing. Exeunt Servants._
Mum, there be Bats abroad.

_Fred._ Stay, now she sings.

_John._ An Angels voice I'le swear.

_Fred._ Why did'st thou shrug so?
Either allay this heat; or as I live
I will not trust ye.

_John._ Pass: I warrant ye. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Constantia.

_Con._ To curse those stars, that men say govern us,
To rail at fortune, fall out with my Fate,
And tax the general world, will help me nothing:
Alas, I am the same still, neither are they
Subject to helps, or hurts: Our own desires
Are our own fates, our own stars, all our fortunes,
Which as we sway 'em, so abuse, or bless us.

_Enter_ Frederick, _and Don_ John, _peeping_.

_Fred._ Peace to your meditations.

_John._ Pox upon ye,
Stand out o'th' light.

_Const._ I crave your mercy Sir,
My minde o're-charg'd with care made me unmannerly.

_Fred._ Pray ye set that mind at rest, all shall be perfect.

_John._ I like the body rare; a handsom body,
A wondrous handsom body: would she would turn:
See, and that spightful puppy be not got
Between me and my light again.

_Fred._ 'Tis done,
As all that you command shall be: the Gentleman
Is safely off all danger.

_John._ _O de dios._

_Const._ How shall I thank ye Sir? how satisfie?

_Fr._ Speak softly, gentle Lady, all's rewarded,
Now does he melt like Marmalad.

_John._ Nay, 'tis certain,
Thou art the sweetest woman I e're look'd on:
I hope thou art not honest.

_Fred._ None disturb'd ye?

_Const._ Not any Sir, nor any sound came near me,
I thank your care.

_Fred._ 'Tis well.

_John._ I would fain pray now,
But the Devil and that flesh there, o' the world,
What are we made to suffer?

_Fred._ He'll enter;
Pull in your head and be hang'd.

_John._ Hark ye _Frederick_,
I have brought ye home your Pack-saddle.

_Fred._ Pox upon ye.

_Con._ Nay let him enter: fie my Lord the Duke,
Stand peeping at your friends.

_Fred._ Ye are cozen'd Lady,
Here is no Duke.

_Const._ I know him full well Signior.

_John._ Hold thee there wench.

_Fred._ This mad-brain'd fool will spoil all.

_Const._ I do beseech your grace come in.

_John._ My Grace,
There was a word of comfort.

_Fred._ Shall he enter?
Who e're he be?

_John._ Well follow'd _Frederick_.

_Const._ With all my heart.

_Fred._ Come in then.

_Enter Don_ John.

_John._ 'Bless ye Lady.

_Fr._ Nay start not, though he be a stranger to ye,
He's of a noble strain, my kinsman, Lady,
My Country-man, and fellow Traveller,
One bed contains us ever, one purse feeds us,
And one faith free between us; do not fear him,
He's truly honest.

_John._ That's a lye.

_Fred._ And trusty:
Beyond your wishes: valiant to defend,
And modest to converse with, as your blushes.

_Jo._ Now may I hang my self; this commendation
Has broke the neck of all my hopes: for now
Must I cry, no forsooth, and I forsooth, and surely,
And truly as I live, and as I am honest.
Has done these things for 'nonce too; for he knows
Like a most envious Rascal as he is,
I am not honest, nor desire to be,
Especially this way: h'as watch'd his time,
But I shall quit him.

_Const._ Sir, I credit ye.

_Fred._ Go kiss her _John_.

_John._ Plague o' your commendations.

_Const._ Sir, I shall now desire to be a trouble.

_John._ Never to me, sweet Lady: Thus I seal
My faith, and all my service.

_Const._ One word Signior.

_John._ Now 'tis impossible I should be honest,
She kisses with a conjuration
Would make the Devil dance: what points she at?
My leg I warrant, or my well knit body,
Sit fast _Don Frederick_.

_Fred._ 'Twas given him by that Gentleman
You took such care of; his own being lost i'th' scuffle.

_Con._ With much joy may he wear it: 'tis a right one,
I can assure ye Gentleman, and right happy
May you be in all fights for that fair service.

_Fred._ Why do ye blush?

_Const._ 'T had almost cozen'd me,
For not to lye, when I saw that, I look'd for
Another Master of it: but 'tis well. [_Knock within._

_Fred._ Who's there?

_Enter_ Anthony.

Stand ye a little close: Come in Sir, [_Exit Const._
Now what's the news with you?

_Anth._ There is a Gentleman without,
Would speak with _Don John_.

_John._ Who Sir?

_Ant._ I do not know Sir, but he shews a man
Of no mean reckoning.

_Fred._ Let him shew his name,
And then return a little wiser.

_Ant._ Well Sir. [_Exit_ Anthony.

_Fred._ How do you like her _John_?

_John._ As well as you _Frederick_,
For all I am honest: you shall find it so too.

_Fred._ Art thou not honest?

_John._ Art thou an Ass?
And modest as her blushes? What block-head
Would e're have popt out such a dry Apologie,
For his dear friend? and to a Gentlewoman,
A woman of her youth, and delicacy.
They are arguments to draw them to abhor us.
An honest moral man? 'tis for a Constable:
A handsome man, a wholsome man, a tough man,
A liberal man, a likely man, a man
Made up like _Hercules_, unslak'd with service:
The same to night, to morrow night, the next night,
And so to perpetuitie of pleasures,
These had been things to hearken to, things catching:
But you have such a spic'd consideration,
Such qualms upon your worships conscience,
Such chil-blains in your bloud, that all things pinch ye,
Which nature, and the liberal world makes custom,
And nothing but fair honour, O sweet honor,
Hang up your Eunuch honour: That I was trusty,
And valiant, were things well put in; but modest!
A modest Gentleman! O wit where wast thou?

_Fred._ I am sorrie _John_.

_John._ My Ladies Gentlewoman
Would laugh me to a S[c]hool-boy, make me blush
With playing with my Codpiece point: fie on thee,
A man of thy discretion?

_Fred._ It shall be mended:
And henceforth ye shall have your due.

_Enter_ Anthony.

_John._ I look for't: How now, who is't?

_Ant._ A Gentleman of this Town
And calls himself _Petrucchio_.

_Enter_ Constantia.

_John._ I'le attend him.

_Const._ How did he call himself?

_Fre._ _Petrucchio_,
Does it concern you ought?

_Const._ O Gentlemen,
The hour of my destruction is come on me,
I am discover'd, lost, left to my ruine:
As ever ye had pity--

_John._ Do not fear,
Let the great devil come, he shall come through me:
Lost here, and we about ye?

_Fred._ Fall before us?

_Const._ O my unfortunate estate, all angers
Compar'd to his, to his--

_Fred._ Let his, and all mens,
Whilst we have power and life--stand up for heaven sake.

_Con._ I have offended heaven too; yet heaven knows--

_John._ We are all evil:
Yet Heaven forbid we should have our deserts.
What is he?

_Con._ Too too near to my offence Sir;
O he will cut me piece-meal.

_Fred._ 'Tis no Treason?

_John._ Let it be what it will, if he cut here,
I'le find him cut-work.

_Fred._ He must buy you dear,
With more than common lives.

_John._ Fear not, nor weep not:
By heaven I'le fire the Town before ye perish,
And then, the more the merrier, we'l jog with ye.

_Fred._ Come in, and dry your eyes.

_John._ Pray no more weeping:
Spoil a sweet face for nothing? my return
Shall end all this I warrant you.

_Const._ Heaven grant it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Petrucchio, _with a Letter_.

_Petr._ This man should be of special rank:
For these commends carry no common way,
No slight worth with 'em:
He shall be he.

_Enter Don_ John.

_John._ 'Save ye Sir: I am sorrie
My business was so unmannerly, to make ye
Wait thus long here.

_Petr._ Occasions must be serv'd Sir:
But is your name _Don John_?

_John._ It is Sir.

_Petr._ Then,
First, for your own brave sake I must embrace ye:
Next, from the credit of your noble friend
_Hernando de Alvara_, make ye mine:
Who lays his charge upon me in this Letter
To look ye out, and for the goodness in ye,
Whilst your occasions make ye resident
In this place, to supply ye, love and honour ye;
Which had I know[n] sooner--

_John._ Noble Sir,
You'l make my thanks too poor: I wear a sword, Sir,
And have a service to be still dispos'd of,
As you shall please command it.

_Petr._ Gentle Sir,
That manly courtesie is half my business:
And to be short, to make ye know I honour ye,
And in all points believe your worth like Oracle,
And how above my friends, which are not few,
And those not slack, I estimate your vertues,
Make your self understand, This day _Petrucchio_,
A man that may command the strength of this place,
Hazard the boldest spirits, hath made choice
Only of you, and in a noble office.

_John._ Forward, I am free to entertain it.

_Petr._ Thus then:
I do beseech ye mark me.

_John._ I shall do it.

_Petr._ _Ferrara's_ Duke, would I might call him worthie,
But that he has raz'd out from his family,
As he has mine with Infamie, This man,
Rather this powerfull Monster, we being left
But two of all our house, to stock our memories,
My Sister, and my self; with arts, and witchcrafts,
Vows, and such oaths heaven has no mercy for,
Drew to dishonour this weak maid, by stealths,
And secret passages I knew not of,
Oft he obtain'd his wishes, oft abus'd her:
I am asham'd to say the rest: This purchas'd,
And his hot bloud allay'd, as friends forsake us
At a miles end upon our way, he left her,
And all our name to ruine.

_John._ This was foul Play,
And ought to be rewarded so.

_Petr._ I hope so;
He scap'd me yester-night: which if he dare
Again adventure for, Heaven pardon him,
I shall with all my heart.

_John._ For me, brave Signior,
What do ye intend?

_Petr._ Only, fair Sir, this trust,
Which from the commendations of this Letter,
I dare presume well plac'd, nobly to bear him
By word of mouth a single challenge from me,
That man to man, if he have honour in him,
We may decide all difference.

_John._ Fair, and noble,
And I will do it home: When shall I visite ye?

_Petr._ Please you this after-noon, I will ride with you:
For at a Castle six miles hence, we are sure
To find him.

_John._ I'le be ready.

_Petr._ To attend ye,
My man shall wait: with all my love. [_Ex._ Petr.

_John._ My service shall not fail ye.

_Enter_ Frederick.

_Fred._ How now?

_John._ All's well: who dost thou think this wench is?
Ghess, and thou canst?

_Fred._ I cannot.

_John._ Be it known then,
To all men by these presents, this is she,
She, she, and only she, our curious coxcombs
Were errant two moneths after.

_Fred._ Who, _Constantia_?
Thou talk'st of Cocks and Bulls.

_John._ I talk of wenches,
Of cocks and Hens _Don Frederick_; this is the Pullet
We two went proud after.

_Fred._ It cannot be.

_John._ It shall be;
Sister to _Don Petrucchio_: I know all man.

_Fred._ Now I believe.

_John._ Go to, there has been stirring,
Fumbling with Linnen _Frederick_.

_Fred._ 'Tis impossible,
You know her fame was pure as fire.

_John._ That pure fire
Has melted out her maiden-head: she is crackt:
We have all that hope of our side, boy.

_Fred._ Thou tell'st me,
To my imagination, things incredible:
I see no loose thought in her.

_John._ That's all one,
She is loose i'th' hilts by heaven: but the world must know
A fair way, upon vow of marriage.

_Fred._ There may be such a slip.

_John._ And will be, _Frederick_,
Whil'st the old game's a foot: I fear the boy
Will prove hers too I took up.

_Fred._ Good circumstance
May cure all this yet.

_John._ There thou hitst it, _Frederick_:
Come, let's walk in and comfort her: her being here
Is nothing yet suspected: anon I'le tell thee
Wherefore her Brother came, who by this light
Is a brave noble fellow, and what honour
H'as done to me a stranger: there be Irons
Heating for some, will hiss into their heart blouds,
E're all be ended; so much for this time.

_Fred._ Well Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._

_Enter Land-lady, and_ Peter.

_Land._ Come, ye do know.

_Pet._ I do not by this hand Mistris.
But I suspect.

_Land._ What?

_Peter._ That if egges continue
At this price, women will ne're be sav'd
By their good works.

_Land._ I will know.

_Peter._ Ye shall, any thing
Lyes in my power: The Duke of _Loraine_ now
Is seven thousand strong: I heard it of a fish-wife,
A woman of fine knowledge.

_Land._ Sirrah, Sirrah.

_Pet._ The Popes Bulls are broke loose too, and 'tis suspected
They shall be baited in _England_.

_Land._ Very well Sir.

_Peter._ No, 'tis not so well neither.

_Land._ But I say to ye,
Who is it keeps your Master company?

_Peter._ I say to you, _Don John_.

_Land._ I say what woman?

_Peter._ I say so too.

_Land._ I say again, I will know.

_Peter._ I say 'tis fit ye should.

_Land._ And I tell thee
He has a woman here.

_Peter._ And I tell thee
'Tis then the better for him.

_Land._ You are no Bawd now?

_Peter._ Would I were able to be call'd unto it:
A worshipfull vocation for my elders;
For as I understand it is a place
Fitting my betters far.

_Land._ Was ever Gentlewoman
So frumpt off with a fool? well sawcy Sirrah,
I will know who it is, and for what purpose;
I pay the rent, and I will know how my house
Comes by these Inflammations: if this geer hold,
Best hang a sign-post up, to tell the Signiors,
Here ye may have lewdness at Liverie.

_Enter_ Frederick.

_Peter._ 'Twould be a great ease to your age.

_Fred._ How now?
Why what's the matter Land-lady?

_Land._ What's the matter?
Ye use me decently among ye Gentlemen.

_Fred._ Who has abus'd her, you Sir?

_Land._ 'Ods my witness
I will not be thus treated, that I will not.

_Peter._ I gave her no ill language.

_Land._ Thou lyest lewdly,
Thou tookst me up at every word I spoke,
As I had been a Mawkin, a flurt Gillian;
And thou thinkst, because thou canst write and read,
Our noses must be under thee.

_Fred._ Dare you Sirrah?

_Pet._ Let but the truth be known Sir, I beseech ye,
She raves of wenches, and I know not what Sir.

_Lan._ Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet,
Thou instrument of evil.

_Peter._ As I live Sir,
She is ever thus till dinner.

_Fred._ Get ye in,
I'le answer you anon Sir.

_Peter._ By this hand
I'le break your Posset pan. [_Exit._

_Land._ Then by this hood
I'le lock the meat up.

_Fred._ Now your grief, what is't?
For I can ghesse--

_Land._ Ye may with shame enough,
If there were shame amongst ye; nothing thought on,
But how ye may abuse my house? not satisfi'd
With bringing home your Bastards to undoe me,
But you must drill your whores here too? my patience
(Because I bear, and bear, and carry all,
And as they say am willing to groan under)
Must be your make-sport now.

_Fred._ No more of these words,
Nor no more murmurings Lady: for you know
That I know something. I did suspect your anger,
But turn it presently and handsomely,
And bear your self discreetly to this woman,
For such an one there is indeed.

_Land._ 'Tis well son.

_Fre._ Leaving your devils Matins, and your melancholies,
Or we shall leave our lodgings.

_Land._ You have much need
To use these vagrant ways, and to much profit:
Ye had that might content
(At home within your selves too) right good Gentlemen,
Wholsome, and ye said handsom: But you gallants,
Beast that I was to believe ye--

_Fred._ Leave your suspicion:
For as I live there's no such thing.

_Land._ Mine honour;
And 'twere not for mine honour.

_Fred._ Come, your honour,
Your house, and you too, if you dare believe me,
Are well enough: sleek up your self, leave crying,
For I must have ye entertain this Lady
With all civility, she well deserves it,
Together with all secresie: I dare trust ye,
For I have found ye faithfull: when you know her,
You will find your own fault: no more words, but do it.

_Land._ You know you may command me.

_Enter Don_ John.

_John._ Worshipful Lady,
How does thy velvet Scabbard? by this hand
Thou lookst most amiably, now could I willingly,
And 'twere not for abusing thy _Geneva_ print there,
Venture my Body with thee.

_Land._ You'll leave this Roguery
When you come to my years.

_John._ By this light
Thou art not above fifteen yet, a meer Girl,
Thou hast not half thy teeth: come--

_Fred._ Prithee _John_
Let her alone, she has been vex'd already;
She'll grow stark mad, man.

_John._ I would see her mad,
An old mad woman--

_Fred._ Prithee be patient.

_John._ Is like a Millers Mare, troubled with tooth-ach.
She'll make the rarest faces.

_Fred._ Go, and do it,
And do not mind this fellow.

_Land._ Well, _Don John_,
There will be times again; when O good Mother,
What's good for a Carnosity in the Bladder?
O the green water, Mother.

_John._ Doting take ye;
Do ye remember that?

_Fred._ She has paid ye now, Sir.

_Land._ Clary, sweet mother, clary.

_Fred._ Are ye satisfied?

_Land._ I'll never whore again, never give petticoats
And Wastcoats at five pound apiece: good mother,
Quickly mother; now mock on Son.

_John._ A Devil grind your old Chaps. [_Exit Landlady._

_Fred._ By this hand, wench,
I'll give thee a new hood for this.
Has she met with your Lordship?

_John._ Touch-wood take her.

_Enter_ A[n]thony.

She's a rare ghostly Mother.

_Ant._ Below attends ye
The Gentlemans man, Sir, that was with you.

_John._ Well, Sir;
My time is come then; yet if my project hold,
You shall not stay behind; I'll rather trust

_Enter_ Constantia.

A Cat with sweet milk, _Frederick_; by her face,
I feel her fears are working.

_Const._ Is there no way,
I do beseech ye think yet, to divert
This certain danger?

_Fred._ 'Tis impossible;
Their Honours are engag'd.

_Const._ Then there must be murther,
Which, Gentlemen, I shall no sooner hear of,
Than make one in't: you may if you please, Sir,
Make all go less yet.

_John._ Lady, were't mine own Cause,
I could dispense; but loaden with my friends trust,
I must go on; though general massacres
As much I fear--

_Const._ Do ye hear, Sir; for Heavens pity
Let me request one love of you.

_Fred._ Yes, any thing.

_Const._ This Gentleman I find too resolute,
Too hot and fiery for the Cause; as ever
You did a vertuous deed, for honours sake
Go with him, and allay him; your fair temper
And noble disposition, like wish'd showrs,
May quench those eating fires, that would spoil all else.
I see in him destruction.

_Fred._ I will do it;
And 'tis a wise consideration,
To me a bounteous favour, hark ye, _John_;
I will go with ye.

_John._ No.

_Fred._ Indeed I will,
Ye go upon a hazard; no denial,
For as I live, I'll go.

_John._ Then make ye ready,
For I am straight o' horse-back.

_Fred._ My Sword on,
I am as ready as you; what my best labour,
With all the art I have can work upon 'em,
Be sure of, and expect fair end; the old Gentlewoman
Shall wait upon you; she is both grave and private,
And ye may trust her in all points.

_Const._ You are noble;
And so I kiss your hand.

_John._ That seal for me too,
And I hope happy issue, Lady.

_Const._ All Heavens Care upon ye, and my Prayers.

_John._ So,
Now my mind's at rest.

_Fred._ Away, 'tis late, John. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Antonio, _a Surgeon, and 2 Gentlemen_.

_1 Gent._ Come, Sir, be hearty, all the worst is past.

_Ant._ Give me some Wine.

_Sur._ 'Tis death, Sir.

_Ant._ 'Tis a Horse, Sir.
To be drest to the tune of Ale only!
Nothing but sawces to my sores!

_2 Gent._ Fie, _Antonio_,
You must be govern'd.

_Ant._ H'as given me a damn'd Clyster,
Only of sand and snow water, Gentlemen,
Has almost scour'd my guts out.

_Sur._ I have giv'n you that, Sir,
Is fittest for your state.

_Ant._ And here he feeds me
With rotten ends of Rooks, and drown'd Chickens,
Stew'd Pericraniums, and Pia-maters;
And when I go to bed (by Heaven 'tis true Gentlemen)
He rolls me up in Lints, with Labels at 'em,
That I am just the man i'th' Almanack,
In Head and Face, is _Aries_ place.

_Sur._ Will't please ye
To let your friends see you open'd?

_Ant._ Will't please you, Sir,
To let me have a wench? I feel my Body
Open enough for that yet.

_Sur._ How, a Wench?

_Ant._ Why look ye, Gentlemen; thus I am us'd still,
I can get nothing that I want.

_1 Gent._ Leave these things,
And let him open ye.

_Ant._ D'ye hear, Surgeon?
Send for the Musick, let me have some pleasure
To entertain my friends, besides your Sallads,
Your green salves, and your searches, and some Wine too,
That I may only smell to it; or by this light
I'll dye upon thy hand, and spoil thy custome.

_1 Gent._ Let him have Musick.

_Enter Rowl. with Wine._

_Sur._ 'Tis in the house, and ready,
If he will ask no more but Wine-- [_Musick._

_2 Gent._ He shall not drink it.

_Sur._ Will these things please ye?

_Ant._ Yes, and let 'em sing
_John Dorrie_.

_2 Gent._ 'Tis too long.

_Ant._ I'll have _John Dorrie_,
For to that warlike tune I will be open'd:
Give me some drink, have ye stopt the leaks well, Surgeon,
All will run out else?

_Surg._ Fear not.

_Ant._ Sit down, Gentlemen:
And now advance your Plaisters. [_Song of_ John Dorrie.
Give 'em ten shillings, friends; how do ye find me?
What symptoms do you see now?

_Surg._ None, Sir, dangerous;
But if you will be rul'd--

_Ant._ What time?

_Surg._ I can cure you
In forty days, if you will not transgress me.

_Ant._ I have a Dog shall lick me whole in twenty;
In how long canst thou kill me?

_Surg._ Presently.

_Ant._ Do it, there's more delight in't.

_1 Gent._ You must have patience.

_Ant._ Man, I must have business; this foolish fellow
Hinders himself; I have a dozen Rascals
To hurt within these five days; good man-mender,
Stop me with some Parsley, like stuft Beef,
And let me walk abroad.

_Surg._ Ye shall walk shortly.

_Ant._ For I must find _Petrucchio_.

_2 Gent._ Time enough.

_1 Gent._ Come, lead him in, and let him sleep: within these three days
We'll beg ye leave to play.

_2 Gent._ And then how things fall,
We'll certainly inform ye.

_Ant._ But Surgeon, promise me
I shall drink Wine then too.

_Surg._ A little temper'd.

_Ant._ Nay, I'll no tempering, Surgeon.

_Surg._ Well, as't please ye,
So ye exceed not.

_Ant._ Farewell: and if ye find
The mad Slave that thus slash'd me, commend me to him,
And bid him keep his Skin close.

_1 Gent._ Take your rest, Sir. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Constantia, _and Land-lady_.

_Const._ I have told ye all I can, and more than yet
Those Gentlemen know of me; ever trusting
Your Counsel and Concealment; for to me
You seem a worthy Woman; one of those
Are seldome found in our Sex, wise and vertuous,
Direct me I beseech ye.

_Land._ Ye say well, Lady,
And hold ye to that point, for in these businesses
A Womans Counsel that conceives the matter,
(Do ye mark me? that conceives the matter, Lady)
Is worth ten mens engagements: She knows something,
And out of that can work like Wax; when men
Are giddy-headed, either out of Wine,
Or a more Drunkenness, vain Ostentation,
Discovering all; there is no more keep in 'em
Than hold upon an Eeles tail; Nay, 'tis held fashion
To defame now all they can.

_Const._ I, but these Gentlemen--

_Land._ Do not you trust to that; these Gentlemen
Are as all Gentlemen of the same Barrel;
I, and the self same pickle too. Be it granted,
They have us'd ye with respect and fair behaviour,
Ere since ye came, do you know what must follow?
They are Spaniards, Lady, Gennets of high mettle,
Things that will thrash the Devil, or his Dam,
Let 'em appear but cloven.

_Const._ Now Heaven bless me.

_Land._ Mad Colts will court the wind; I know 'em, Lady,
To the least hair they have; and I tell you,
Old as I am, let but the pint pot bless 'em,
They'll offer to my years--

_Const._ How?

_Land._ Such rude gambols--

_Const._ To you?

_Land._ I, and so handle me, that oft I am forc'd
To fight of all four for my safety; there's the younger,
_Don John_, the arrantest _Jack_ in all this City;
The other, Time has blasted, yet he will stoop,
If not o'rflown, and freely on the quarry;
Has been a Dragon in his days. But _Tarmont_,
_Don Jenkin_ is the Devil himself, the dog-days,
The most incomprehensible Whore-master,
Twenty a night is nothing; Beggars, Broom-women,
And those so miserable, they look like famine,
Are all sweet Ladies in his drink.

_Const._ He's a handsome Gentleman;
Pity he should be master of such follies.

_Land._ He's ne'r without a noise of Sirynges
In's Pocket, those proclaim him; birding Pills,
Waters to cool his Conscience, in small Viols:
With thousand such sufficient emblems; the truth is,
Whose Chastity he chops upon he cares not,
He flies at all; Bastards upon my conscience,
He has now in making, multitudes; the last night
He brought home one; I pity her that bore it,
But we are all weak Vessels, some rich Woman
(For wise I dare not call her) was the mother,
For it was hung with Jewels; the bearing Cloath
No less than Crimson Velvet.

_Const._ How?

_Land._ 'Tis true, Lady.

_Const._ Was it a Boy too?

_Land._ A brave Boy; deliberation
And judgment shew'd in's getting, as I'll say for him,
He's as well paced for that sport--

_Const._ May I see it?
For there is a neighbour of mine, a Gentlewoman,
Has had a late mischance, which willingly
I would know further of; now if you please
To be so courteous to me.

_Land._ Ye shall see it:
But what do ye think of these men now ye know 'em,
And of the cause I told ye of? Be wise,
Ye may repent too late else; I but tell you
For your own good, and as you will find it, Lady.

_Const._ I am advis'd.

_Land._ No more words then; do that,
And instantly, I told ye of, be ready;
_Don John_, I'll fit you for your frumps.

_Const._ I shall be:
But shall I see this Child?

_Land._ Within this half hour,
Let's in, and there think better; she that's wise,
Leaps at occasion first; the rest pay for it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Petrucchio, _Don_ John, _and_ Frederick.

_John._ Sir, he is worth your knowledg, and a Gentleman
If I that so much love him, may commend him,
Of free and vertuous parts; and one, if foul play
Should fall upon us, for which fear I brought him,
Will not flye back for phillips.

_Pet._ Ye much honour me,
And once more I pronounce ye both mine.

_Fred._ Stay, what Troop
Is that below i' th' Valley there?

_John._ Hawking I take it.

_Pet._ They are so; 'tis the Duke, 'tis even he, Gentlemen,
Sirrah, draw back the Horses till we call ye,
I know him by his Company.

_Fred._ I think too
He bends up this way.

_Pet._ So he does.

_John._ Stand you still
Within that Covert till I call: you, _Frederick_,
By no means be not seen, unless they offer
To bring on odds upon us; he comes forward,
Here will I wait him fairly: to your Cabins.

_Pet._ I need no more instruct ye?

_John._ Fear me not,
I'le give it him, and boldly. [_Ex._ Pet. _and_ Fred.

_Enter Duke and his faction._

_Duke._ Feed the Hawks up,
We'll flie no more to day, O my blest fortune!
Have I so fairly met the man?

_John._ Ye have, Sir,
And him you know by this.

_Duke._ Sir all the honour,
And love--

_John._ I do beseech your Grace stay there,
(For I know you too now) that love and honour
I come not to receive; nor can you give it,
Till ye appear fair to the world; I must beseech ye
Dismiss your train a little.

_Duke._ Walk aside,
And out of hearing I command ye: Now, Sir.

_John._ Last time we met, I was a friend.

_Duke._ And Nobly,
You did a friends office: let your business
Be what it may, you must be still--

_John._ Your pardon,
Never a friend to him, cannot be friend
To his own honour.

_Duke._ In what have I transgress'd it?
Ye make a bold breach at the first, Sir.

_John._ Bolder,
You made that breach that let in infamy,
And ruine, to surprise a noble stock.

_Duke._ Be plain, Sir.

_John._ I will, and short;
Ye have wrong'd a Gentleman,
Little behind your self, beyond all justice,
Beyond mediation of all friends.

_Duke._ The man, and manner of wrong?

_John._ _Petrucchio_,
The wrong, ye have Whor'd his Sister.

_Duke._ What's his will in't?

_John._ His will is to oppose you like a Gentleman,
And single, to decide all.

_Duke._ Now stay you, Sir,
And hear me with the like belief: this Gentleman,
His Sister that you nam'd, 'tis true I have long lov'd,
Nor was that love lascivious, as he makes it;
As true, I have enjoy'd her: no less truth,
I have a Child by her: but that she, or he,
Or any of that family are tainted,
Suffer disgrace, or ruin, by my pleasures,
I wear a Sword to satisfie the world no,
And him in this cause when he please; for know, Sir,
She is my Wife, contracted before Heaven,
(Witness I owe more tye to, than her Brother)
Nor will I flye from that name, which long since
Had had the Churches approbation,
But for his jealous danger.

_John._ Sir, your pardon,
And all that was my anger, now my service.

_Duk._ Fair Sir, I knew I should convert ye; had we
But that rough man here now too--

_John._ And ye shall, Sir,
Whoa, hoa, hoo.

_Duke._ I hope ye have laid no Ambush?

_Enter_ Petrucchio.

_John._ Only friends.

_Duke._ My noble Brother welcome:
Come put your anger off, we'll no fighting,
Unless you will maintain I am unworthy
To bear that name.

_Pet._ Do you speak this heartily?

_Duke._ Upon my soul, and truly; the first Priest
Shall put you out of these doubts.

_Pet._ Now I love ye;
And I beseech you pardon my suspicions,
You are now more than a Brother, a brave friend too.

_John._ The good man's over-joy'd.

_Enter_ Frederick.

_Fred._ How, how, how goes it?

_John._ Why, the man has his Mare again, and all's well, _Frederick_,
The Duke professes freely he's her Husband.

_Fred._ 'Tis a good hearing.

_John._ Yes, for modest Gentlemen.
I must present ye: may it please your Grace,
To number this brave Gentleman, my friend,
And noble kinsman, amongst those your servants.

_Duke._ O my brave friend! you shower your bounties on me
Amongst my best thoughts, Signior, in which number
You being worthily dispos'd already,
May place your friend to honour me.

_Fred._ My love, Sir,
And where your Grace dares trust me, all my service.

_Pet._ Why! this is wondrous happy: But now Brother,
Now comes the bitter to our sweet: _Constantia_.

_Duke._ Why, what of her?

_Pet._ Nor what, nor where, do I know!
Wing'd with her fears last night, beyond my knowledge,
She quit my house, but whither--

_Fred._ Let not that--

_Duke._ No more good Sir, I have heard too much.

_Pet._ Nay sink not,
She cannot be so lost.

_John._ Nor shall not, Gentlemen;
Be free again, the Lady's found; that smile, Sir,
Shews ye distrust your Servant.

_Duke._ I do beseech ye.

_John._ Ye shall believe me: by my soul she is safe.

_Duke._ Heaven knows, I would believe, Sir.

_Fred._ Ye may safely.

_John._ And under noble usage: this fair Gentleman
Met her in all her doubts last night, and to his Guard,
(Her fears being strong upon her) she gave her person,
Who waited on her to our lodging; where all respect,
Civil and honest service now attend her.

_Pet._ Ye may believe now.

_Duke._ Yes, I do, and strongly:
Well my good friends, or rather my good Angels,
For ye have both preserv'd me; when these vertues
Dye in your friends remembrance--

_John._ Good your Grace,
Lose no more time in complement, 'tis too precious,
I know it by my self there can be no Hell
To his that hangs upon his hopes; especially
In way of lustly pleasures.

_Pet._ He has hit it.

_Fred._ To horse again then, for this night I'le crown
With all the joyes ye wish for.

_Pet._ Happy Gentlemen. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Francisco.

_Fran._ This is the maddest mischief: never fool
Was so fob'd off, as I am; made ridiculous,
And to my self mine own Ass: trust a Woman?
I'le trust the Devil first; for he dare be
Better than's word sometime: what faith have I broke?
In what observance fail'd? Let me consider,

_Enter Don_ John, _and_ Frederick.

For this is monstrous usage.

_Fred._ Let them talk,
We'll ride on fair and softly.

_Fran._ Well, _Constantia_.

_Fred._ _Constantia_, what's this fellow? stay by all means.

_Fran._ Ye have spun your self a fair thread now.

_Fred._ Stand still, _John_.

_Fran._ What cause had you to fly? what fear possest ye?
Were you not safely lodg'd from all suspicion?
Us'd with all gentle means? did any know
How ye came thither, or what your sin was.

_Fred._ _John_,
I smell some juggling, _John_.

_John._ Yes, _Frederick_, I fear it will be found so.

_Fran._ So strangely,
Without the counsel of your friends; so desperately
To put all dangers on ye?

_Fred._ 'Tis she.

_Fran._ So deceitfully,
After a strangers lure!

_John._ Did ye mark that, _Frederick_?

_Fran._ To make ye appear more monster; and the Law
More cruel to reward ye? to leave all,
All that should be your safegard, to seek evils?
Was this your wisdom? this your promise? well,
He that incited ye--

_Fred._ Mark that too.

_John._ Yes Sir.

_Fran._ 'Had better have plough'd farther off; now Lady,
What will your last friend, he that should preserve ye,
And hold your credit up, the brave _Antonio_,
Think of this slip? he'll to _Petrucchio_,
And call for open justice.

_John._ 'Tis she, _Frederick_.

_Fred._ But what that he is, _John_?

_Fra._ I do not doubt yet
To bolt ye out, for I know certainly
Ye are about the Town still: ha, no more words. [_Exit._

_Fred._ Well.

_John._ Very well.

_Fred._ Discreetly.

_John._ Finely carried.

_Fred._ You have no more of these tricks?

_John._ Ten to one, Sir,
I shall meet with 'em if ye have.

_Fred._ Is this honest?

_John._ Was it in you a friends part to deal double?
I am no Ass _Don Frederick_.

_Fred._ And _Don John_,
It shall appear I am no fool;
Disgrace me to make your self a lecher?
'Tis boyish, 'tis base.

_John._ 'Tis false, and most unmanly to upbraid me,
Nor will I be your bolster, Sir.

_Fre._ Thou wanton boy, thou hadst better have been Eunuch,
Thou common womans courtesie, than thus
Lascivious, basely to have bent mine honour.
A friend? I'[l]e make a horse my friend first.

_John._ Holla, holla,
Ye kick too fast, Sir: what strange brains have you got,
That dare crow out thus bravely? I better been an Eunuch?
I privy to this dog trick? clear your self,
For I know where the wind sits, and most nobly,
Or as I have a life--

_Fred._ No more: they're horses. [_A noise within like horses._
Nor shew no discontent: to morrow comes;
Let's quietly away: if she be at home,
Our jealousies are put off.

_John._ The fellow,

_Enter Duke_, Petrucchio.

We have lost him in our spleens, like fools.

_Duke._ Come, Gentlemen,
Now set on roundly: suppose ye have all Mistresses,
And mend your pace according.

_Petr._ Then have at ye. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter Duke_, Petrucchio, Frederick, _and_ John.

_Petr._ Now to _Bologna_, my most honoured Brother,
I dare pronounce ye a hearty, and safe welcome,
Our loves shall now way-lay ye; welcome, Gentlemen.

_John._ The same to you brave Sir; _Don Frederick_,
Will ye step in and give the Lady notice
Who comes to honour her?

_Petr._ Bid her be sudden,
We come to see no curious wench: a night-gown
Will serve the turn: here's one that knows her nearer.

_Fred._ I'le tell her what ye say, Sir. [_Exit Fred._

_Duke._ My dear brother,
Ye are a merry Gentleman.

_Petr._ Now will the sport be,
To observe her alterations; how like a wildfire
She'll leap into your bosom; then seeing me,
Her conscience, and her fears creeping upon her,
Dead as a fowl at souse, she'll sink.

_Duke._ Fair Brother,
I must intreat you--

_Petr._ I conceive your mind, Sir,
I will not chide her: yet ten Duckets, Duke,
She falls upon her knees, ten more she dare not--

_Duke._ I must not have her frighted.

_Petr._ Well you shall not:

_Enter_ Frederick, _and_ Peter.

But like a Summers evening against heat,
Mark how I'le guild her cheeks!

_John._ How now?

_Fred._ Ye may, Sir:
Not to abuse your patience, noble friends,
Nor hold ye off with tedious circumstance,
For you must know--

_Petr._ What?

_Duke._ Where is she?

_Fred._ Gone, Sir.

_Duke._ How?

_Petr._ What did you say, Sir?

_Fred._ Gone, by Heaven removed,
The woman of the house too.

_John._ Well _Don Frederick_.

_Fred._ _Don John_, it is not well, but--

_Pet._ Gone?

_Fred._ This fellow
Can testifie I lye not.

_Peter._ Some four hours after
My Master was departed, with this Gentleman,
My fellow and my self being sent of business,
(As we must think) of purpose--

_Petr._ Hang these circumstances,
They appear like Owls, to ill ends.

_John._ Now could I eat
The Devil in his own broth, I am so tortur'd.
Gone?

_Petr._ Gone?

_Fred._ Directly gone, fled, shifted: what would you have me say?

_Duke._ Well, Gentlemen,
Wrong not my good opinion.

_Fred._ For your Dukedom
I will not be a Knave, Sir.

_John._ He that is,
A rot run in his bloud.

_Petr._ But hark ye Gentlemen,
Are ye sure ye had her here, did ye not dream this?

_John._ Have you your nose, Sir?

_Petr._ Yes, Sir.

_John._ Then we had her.

_Petr._ Since you are so short, believe your having her
Shall suffer more construction.

_John._ Let it suffer,
But if I be not clear of all dishonour,
Or practice that may taint my reputation,
And ignorant of where this Woman is,
Make me your Cities monster.

_Duke._ I believe ye.

_John._ I could lye with a Witch now, to be reveng'd,
Upon that Rascal did this.

_Fred._ Only thus much
I would desire your Grace, for my mind gives me
Before night yet she is yours: stop all opinion,
And let no anger out, till full cause call it,
Then every mans own work's to justifie him,
And this day let us give to search: my man here
Tells me, by chance he saw out of a window
(Which place he has taken notice of) such a face
As our old Landladies, he believes the same too,
And by her hood assures it: Let's first thither,
For she being found, all's ended.