Chapter II: Part 2

_Jaq._ The forlorn hope's led by a Tanner's wife,
I know her by her Hide, a desperate woman:
She flead her Husband in her youth, and made
Raynes of his Hide to ride the parish. Take 'em all together,
They are a genealogy of Jennets, gotten
And born thus by the boisterous breath of Husbands;
They serve sure, a[n]d are swift to catch occasion,
(I mean their foes or Husbands) by the forelocks,
And there they hang like favours; cry they can
But more for Noble spight, than fear: and crying
Like the old Giants that were foes to heaven,
They heave ye stool on stool, and fling main Pot-lids
Like massie Rocks, dart Ladles, tossing Irons,
And Tongs like Thunderbolts, till overlaid,
They fall beneath the weight; yet still aspiring
At those Emperious [Codsheads] that would tame 'em.
There's ne'r a one of these, the worst and weakest,
(Chuse where you will,) but dare attempt the raising,
Against the soveraign peace of Puritans,
A _May_-pole and a Morris, maugre mainly
Their zeal, and Dudgeon-daggers: and yet more,
Dares plant a stand of batt'ring Ale against 'em,
And drink 'em out o'th' parish.

_Soph._ Lo you fierce _Petruchio_, this comes of your impatience.

_Ped._ There's one brought in the Bears against the Canons
Of the Town, made it good, and fought 'em.

_Jaq._ Another to her everlasting fame, erected
Two Ale-houses of ease: the Quarter-Sessions
Running against her roundly; in which business
Two of the disanullers lost their night-caps:
A third stood excommunicate by the cudgel;
The Constable, to her eternal glory,
Drunk hard, and was converted, and she victor.

_Ped._ Then are they victualed with Pies and Puddings,
(The trappings of good Stomachs) noble Ale
The true defender, Sausages, and smoak'd ones,
If need be, such as serve for Pikes; and Pork,
(Better the Jews ne'r hated:) here and there
A bottle of _Metheglin_, a stout _Britain_
That will stand to 'em; what else they want, they war for.

_Petru._ Come to council.

_Soph._ Now you must grant conditions, or the Kingdom
Will have no other talke but this.

_Petron._ Away then, and let's advise the best.

_Soph._ Why do you tremble?

_Mor._ Have I liv'd thus long to be knockt o'th' head,
With half a Washing-beetle: pray be wise, Sir.

_Petru._ Come, something I'll do, but what it is, I know not.

_Soph._ To Council then, and let's avoid their follies.
Guard all the doors, or we shall not have a Cloak left. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena_ [_Sexta._]

_Enter_ Petronius, Petruchio, Moroso, Sophocles, _and_ Tranio.

_Petro._ I am indifferent, though I must confess,
I had rather see her carted.

_Tra._ No more of that, Sir.

_Soph._ Are ye resolv'd to give her fair conditions?
'Twill be the safest way.

_Petru._ I am distracted,
Would I had run my head into a halter
When I first woo'd her: if I offer peace,
She'll urge her own conditions, that's the devil.

_Soph._ Why, say she do?

_Petru._ Say, I am made an Ass, then;
I know her aim: may I, with reputation
(Answer me this) with safety of mine honor,
(After the mighty manage of my first wife,
Which was indeed a fury to this Filly,
After my twelve strong labours to reclaim her,
Which would have made Don _Hercules_ horn mad,
And hid him in his Hide) suffer this _Cicely_?
E're she have warm'd my sheets, e're grappell'd with me,
This Pinck, this painted Foist, this Cockle-boat,
To hang her Fights out, and defie me friends,
A well known man of war? if this be equal,
And I may suffer, say, and I have done?

_Petron._ I do not think you may.

_Tra._ You'll make it worse, Sir.

_Soph._ Pray hear me good _Petruchio_: but ev'n now,
You were contented to give all conditions,
To try how far she would carry: 'Tis a folly,
(And you will find it so) to clap the curb on,
E're you be sure it proves a natural wildness,
And not a forc'd. Give her conditions,
For on my life this trick is put into her.

_Petron._ I should believe so too.

_Soph._ And not her own.

_Tra._ You'll find it so.

_Soph._ Then if she flownder with you,
Clap spurs on, and in this you'll deal with temperance,
Avoid the hurry of the world.

_Tra._ And loose. [_Musick above._

_Mor._ No honor on my life, Sir.

_Petru._ I will do it.

_Petron._ It seems they are very merry.

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Petru._ Why [God] hold it.

_Mor._ Now _Jaques_?

_Jaq._ They are i'th' flaunt, Sir.

_Soph._ Yes we hear 'em.

_Jaq._ They have got a stick of Fiddles, and they firk it,
In wondrous ways, the two grand _Capitano's_,
(They brought the Auxiliary Regiments)
Dance with their coats tuckt up to their bare breeches,
And bid [them] kiss 'em, that's the burden;
They have got _Metheglin_, and audacious Ale;
And talk like Tyrants.

_Petron._ How knowest thou?

_Jaq._ I peept in
At a loose Lansket.

SONG.

_A Health for all this day
To the woman that bears the sway
And wears the breeches;
Let it come, let it come._

_Let this health be a Seal,
For the good of the Common-weal
the woman shall wear the breeches._

_Lets drink then and laugh it
And merrily merrily quaff it
And tipple, and tipple a round
here's to thy fool,
and to my fool.
Come, to all fools
though it cost us wench, many a pound._

_Tra._ Hark.

_Petro._ A Song, pray silence. [_All the Women above.
Citizens and Countrey
_Mor._ They look out. women._

_Petru._ Good ev'n Ladies.

_Mar._ Good you good ev'n Sir.

_Petru._ How have you slept to night?

_Mar._ Exceeding well Sir.

_Petru._ Did you not wish me with you?

_Mar._ No, believe me,
I never thought upon you.

_Cun._ Is that he?

_Bya._ Yes.

_Cun._ Sir?

_Soph._ She has drank hard, mark her Hood.

_Cun._ You are--

_Soph._ Learnedly drunk, I'll hang else: let her utter.

_Cun._ And I must tell you, _viva voce_ friend,
A very foolish fellow.

_Tra._ There's an Ale figure.

_Petru._ I thank you _Susan Brotes_.

_Cit._ Forward Sister.

_Cun._ You have espoused here a hearty woman,
A comly, and courageous.

_Petru._ Well, I have so.

_Cun._ And to the comfort of distressed damsels,
Women out-worn in wedlock; and such vessels,
This woman has defied you.

_Petru._ It should seem so.

_Cun._ And why?

_Petru._ Yes, can you tell?

_Cun._ For thirteen causes.

_Petru._ Pray by your patience Mistriss.

_Cit._ Forward Sister.

_Petru._ Do you mean to treat of all these?

_Cit._ Who shall let her?

_Petro._ Do you hear, Velvet hood, we come not now
To hear your doctrine.

_Cun._ For the first, I take it,
It doth divide it self into seven branches.

_Petru._ Hark you good _Maria_,
Have you got a Catechiser here?

_Tra._ Good zeal.

_Soph._ Good three pil'd predication, will you peace,
And hear the cause we come for?

_Cun._ Yes bob-tails
We know the cause you come for, here's the cause,
But never hope to carry her, never dream
Or flatter your opinions with a thought
Of base repentance in her.

_Cit._ Give me Sack,
By this, and next strong Ale.

_Cun._ Swear forward Sister.

_Cit._ By all that's cordial, in this place we'll bury
Our bones, fames, tongues, our triumphs and [then] all
That ever yet was chronicl'd of woman;
But this brave wench, this excellent despiser,
This bane of dull obedience, shall inherit
His liberal Will, and march off with conditions
Noble, and worth her self.

_Cun._ She shall _Tom Tilers_,
And brave ones too, my Hood shall make a Hearse-cloth,
And I'll lie under it like _Jone o' Gaunt_,
E'r I go less, my Distaff stuck up by me,
For the eternal Trophy of my conquests;
And loud fame at my head with two main bottles,
Shall fill to all the world the glorious fall
Of old _Don Gillian_.

_Cit._ Yet a little further,
We have taken Arms in rescue of this Lady;
Most just and Noble: if ye beat us off
Without conditions, and we recant,
Use us as we deserve; and first degrade us
Of all our antient chambring: next that
The Symbols of our secresie, silk Stockings,
Hew of our heels; our petticoats of Arms
Tear off our bodies, and our Bodkins break
Over our coward heads.

_Cun._ And ever after
To make the tainture most notorious,
At all our Crests, _videlicet_ our Plackets,
Let Laces hang, and we return again
Into our former titles, Da[y]ry-maids.

_Petru._ No more wars: puissant Ladies, shew conditions
And freely I accept 'em.

_Mar._ Call in _Livia;_
She's in the Treaty too.

_Enter_ Livia _above._

_Mor._ How, _Livia_?

_Mar._ Hear you that Sir?
There's the conditions for ye, pray peruse 'em.

_Petron._ Yes, there she is: 't had been no right rebellion,
Had she held off; what think you man?

_Mor._ Nay nothing.
I have enough o' th' prospect: o' my conscience,
The worlds end, and the goodness of a woman
Will come together.

_Petron._ Are you there sweet Lady?

_Liv._ Cry you mercy Sir, I saw you not: your blessing.

_Petron._ Yes, when I bless a jade, that stumbles with me.
How are the Articles?

_Liv._ This is for you Sir;
And I shall think upon't.

_Mor._ You have us'd me finely.

_Liv._ There's no other use of thee now extant,
But to be hung up, Cassock, Cap, and all,
For some strange monster at Apothecaries.

_Petron._ I hear you whore.

_Liv._ It must be his then Sir,
For need will then compel me.

_Cit._ Blessing on thee.

[_Liv._ He wil undoe me in meere pans of Coles
To make him lustie.]

_Petron._ There's no talking to 'em;
How are they Sir?

_Petru._ As I expected: Liberty and clothes, [_Reads._
When, and in what way she will: continual moneys,
Company, and all the house at her dispose;
No tongue to say, why is this? or whether will it;
New Coaches, and some buildings, she appoints here;
Hangings, and Hunting-horses: and for Plate
And Jewels for her private use, I take it,
Two thousand pound in present: then for Musick,
And women to read _French_;

_Petron._ This must not be.

_Petru._ And at the latter end a clause put in,
That _Livia_ shall by no man be importun'd,
This whole month yet, to marry.

_Petron._ This is monstrous.

_Petru._ This shall be done, I'll humor her awhile:
If nothing but repentance and undoing
Can win her love, I'll make a shift for one.

_Soph._ When ye are once a bed, all these conditions
Lie under your own seal.

_Mar._ Do you like 'em?

_Petru._ Yes.
And by that faith I gave you 'fore the Priest
I'll ratifie 'em.

_Cun._ Stay, what pledges?

_Mar._ No, I'll take that oath;
But have a care you keep it.

_Cit._ 'Tis not now
As when _Andrea_ liv'd.

_Cun._ If you do juggle,
Or alter but a Letter of these Articles
We have set down, the self-same persecution.

_Mar._ Mistrust him not.

_Petru._ By all my honesty----

_Mar._ Enough, I yield.

_Petron._ What's this Inserted here?

_Soph._ That the two valiant women that [command] here
Shall have a Supper made 'em, and a large one,
And liberal entertainment without grudging,
And pay for all their soldiers.

_Petru._ That shall be too;
And if a Tun of Wine will serve to pay 'em,
They shall have justice: I ordain ye all
Pay-masters, Gentlemen.

_Tra._ Then we shall have sport boys.

_Mar._ We'll meet you in the Parlor.

_Petru._ Ne'r look sad, Sir, for I will do it.

_Soph._ There's no danger in't.

_Petr[u]._ For _Livia_'s Article you shall observe it,
I have ti'd my self.

_Petron._ I will.

_Petru._ Along then: now
Either I break, or this stiff plant must bow. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Tranio _and_ Rowland.

_Tra._ Come you shall take my counsel.

_Row._ I shall hang first.
I'll no more love, that's certain, 'tis a bane,
(Next that they poison Rats with) the most mortal:
No, I thank Heaven, I have got my sleep again,
And now begin to write sence; I can walk ye
A long hour in my chamber like a man,
And think of some thing that may better me;
Some serious point of Learning, or my state;
No more ay-mees, and [miseries] _Tranio_,
Come near my brain. I'll tell thee, had the devil
But any essence in him of a man,
And could be brought to love, and love a woman,
'Twould make his head ake worser than his horns do;
And firk him with a fire he never felt yet,
Would make him dance. I tell thee there is nothing
(It may be thy case _Tranio_, therefore hear me:)
Under the Sun (reckon the mass of follies
Crept into th' world with man) so desperate,
So mad, so senceless, poor and base, so wretched,
Roguy, and scurvy.

_Tra._ Whether wilt thou _Rowland_?

_Row._ As 'tis to be in love.

_Tra._ And why for virtue sake?

_Row._ And why for virtue's sake? dost thou not conceive me?

_Tra._ No by my troth.

_Row._ Pray then and heartily,
For fear thou fall into't: I'll tell thee why too,
(For I have hope to save thee) when thou lovest,
And first beginst to worship the gilt calf:
_Imprimis_, thou hast lost thy gentry,
And like a Prentice, flung away thy Freedom,
Forthwith thou art a slave.

_Tr[a]._ That's a new Doctrine.

_Row._ Next thou art no more man.

_Tra._ What then?

_Row._ A Fryppery;
Nothing but braided hair and penny ribbond,
Glove, Garter, Ring, Rose, or at best a Swabber,
If thou canst love so near to keep thy making,
Yet thou wilt lose thy language.

_Tra._ Why?

_Row._ Oh _Tranio_,
Those things in love, ne'r talk as we do.

_Tra._ No?

_Row._ No, without doubt, they sigh, and shake the head,
And sometimes whistle dolefully.

_Tra._ No tongue?

_Row._ Yes _Tranio_, but no truth in't, nor no reason,
And when they cant (for 'tis a kind of canting)
Ye shall hear, if you reach to understand 'em
(Which you must be a fool first, or you cannot)
Such gibb'rish; such believe me, I protest Sweet,
And oh dear Heavens, in which such constellations
Reign at the births of Lovers, this is too well,
And daigne me Lady, daigne me I beseech ye
You poor unworthy lump, and then she licks him.

_Tra._ A ---- on't, this is nothing.

_Row._ Thou hast hit it:
Then talks she ten times worse, and wryes, and wriggles,
As though she had the Itch (and so it may be.)

_Tra._ Why thou art grown a strange discoverer.

_Row._ Of mine own follies _Tranio_.

_Tra._ Wilt thou _Rowland_,
Certain ne'er love again?

_Row._ I think so, certain,
And if I be not dead drunk I shall keep it.

_Tra._ Tell me but this; what dost thou think of women?

_Row._ Why, as I think of Fiddles, they delight me,
Till their strings break.

_Tra._ What strings?

_Row._ Their modesties,
Faiths, Vows, and Maidenheads, for they are like Kits
They have but four strings to 'em.

_Tra._ What wilt thou
Give me for ten pound now, when thou next lovest,
And the same woman still?

_Row._ Give me the money;
A hundred, and my Bond for't.

_Tra._ But pray hear me,
I'll work all means I can to reconcile ye:

_Row._ Do, do, Give me the money;

_Tra._ There.

_Row._ Work _Tranio_.

_Tra._ You shall go sometimes where she is.

_Row._ Yes straight.
This is the first good I e'er got by woman.

_Tra._ You would think it strange now, if another beauty
As good as hers, say better.

_Row._ Well.

_Tra._ Conceive me,
This is no point o' th' wager.

_Row._ That's all one.

_Tra._ Love you as much, or more, than now she hates you.

_Row._ 'Tis a good hearing, let 'em love: ten pound more,
I never love that woman.

_Tra._ There it is;
And so an hundred, if you lose.

_Row._ 'Tis done;
Have you another to put in?

_Tra._ No, no Sir.

_Row._ I am very sorry: now will I erect
A new game, and go hate for th' bell; I am sure
I am in excellent case to win.

_Tra._ I must have leave
To tell you, and tell truth too, what she is,
And how she suffers for you.

_Row._ Ten pound more,
I never believe you.

_Tra._ No Sir, I am stinted.

_Row._ Well, take your best way then.

_Tra._ Let's walk, I am glad
Your sullen Feavor's off.

_Row._ Shalt see me _Tranio_
A monstrous merry man now: let's to the Wedding,
And as we go, tell me the general hurry
Of these mad wenches and their works.

_Tra._ I will.

_Row._ And do thy worst.

_Tra._ Something I'll do.

_Row._ Do _Tranio_. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Secunda._

_Enter_ Pedro, _and_ Jaques.

_Ped._ A pair of Stocks bestride 'em, Are they gone?

_Ja[q]._ Yes they are gone; and all the pans i'th Town
Beating before 'em: What strange admonitions
They gave my Master, and how fearfully
They threaten'd, if he broke 'em?

_Ped._ O' my Conscience
H'as found his full match now.

_Jaq._ That I believe too.

_Ped._ How did she entertain him?

_Jaq._ She lookt on him.

_Ped._ But scurvely.

_Jaq._ With no great affection
That I saw: and I heard some say he kiss'd her,
But 'twas upon a treaty, and some copies
Say, but her Cheek.

_Ped._ _Jaques_, What wouldst thou give
For such a Wife now?

_Jaq._ Full as many P[r]ayers
As the most zealous Puritane conceives
Out of the meditation of fat Veal,
Or Birds of prey, cram'd Capons, against Players,
And to as good a tune too, but against her:
That heaven would bless me from her: mark it _Pedro_,
If this house be not turn'd within this fortnight
With the foundation upward, I'll be carted.
My comfort is yet, that those _Amorites_,
That came to back her cause, those Heathen Whores,
Had their Hoods hallowed with Sack.

_Ped._ How Div'lish drunk they were!

_Ja[q]._ And how they tumbled, _Pedro_, Didst thou marke
The Countrey _Cavaliero_?

_Ped._ Out upon her,
How she turn'd down the Bragget!

_Jaq._ I that sunk her.

_Ped._ That Drink was well put to her; What a Somer salt
When the chair fel, she fetch'd, with her heels upward!

_Jaq._ And what a piece of Landskip she discover'd!

_Ped._ Didst mark her, when her hood fell in the Posset?

_Jaq._ Yes, and there rid, like a _Dutch_-Hoy; the Tumbrel,
When she had got her ballasse.

_Ped._ That I saw too.

_Jaq._ How fain she would have drawn on _Sophocles_
To come aboard, and how she simper'd it--

_Ped._ I warrant her, she has been a worthy striker.

_Jaq._ I'th heat of Summer there had been some hope on't.

_Ped._ Hang her.

_Jaq._ She offer'd him a Harry-groat, and belcht out,
Her stomach being blown with Ale, such Courtship,
Upon my life has giv'n him twenty stools since:
Believe my Calculation, these old Women,
When they are tippled, and a little heated,
Are like new wheels, they'l roare you all the Town ore
Till they be greas'd.

_Ped._ The City _Cinque-a-pace_
Dame Tost and Butter, had the Bob too?

_Jaq._ Yes,
But she was sullen drunk, and given to filching,
I see her offer at a Spoon; my Master--
I do not like his look, I fear h'as fasted
For all this preparation; lets steal by him. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Tertia._

_Enter_ Petruchio, _and_ Sophocles.

_Soph._ Not let you touch her all this night?

_Petru._ Not touch her.

_Soph._ Where was your courage?

_Petru._ Where was her obedience?
Never poor Man was sham'd so; never Rascal
That keeps a stud of Whores was us'd so basely.

_Soph._ Pray you tell me one thing truly;
Do you love her?

_Petru._ I would I did not, upon that condition
I past thee half my Land.

_Soph._ It may be then,
Her modesty requir'd a little violence?
Some Women love to struggle.

_Petru._ She had it,
And so much that I sweat for't, so I did,
But to no end: I washt an _Ethiope_;
She swore my force might weary her, but win her
I never could, nor should, till she consented;
And I might take her body prisoner,
But for her mind or appetite--

_Soph._ 'Tis strange;
This woman is the first I ever read of,
Refus'd a warranted occasion,
And standing on so fair termes.

_Petru._ I shall quit her.

_Soph._ Us'd you no more art?

_Petru._ Yes, I swore to her,
And by no little ones, if presently
Without more disputation on the matter,
She grew not nearer to me, and dispatcht me
Out of the [pain] I was, for I was nettl'd,
And willingly, and eagerly, and sweetly,
I would to her Chamber-maid, and in her hearing
Begin her such a huntes-up.

_Soph._ Then she started?

_Petru._ No more than I do now; marry she answered
If I were so dispos'd, she could not help it;
But there was one call'd _Jaques_, a poor Butler
One that might well content a single woman.

_Soph._ And he should tilt her.

_Petru._ To that sence, and last
She bad me yet these six nights look for nothing
Nor strive to purchase it, but fair good night
And so good morrow, and a kiss or two
To close my stomach, for her vow had seal'd it,
And she would keep it constant.

_Soph._ Stay ye, stay ye,
Was she thus when you woo'd her?

_Petru._ Nothing _Sophocles_,
More keenely eager, I was oft afraid
She had been light, and easie, she would showre
Her kisses so upon me.

_Soph._ Then I fear
An other spoke's i'th wheele.

_Petru._ Now thou hast found me,
There gnawes my Devil, _Sophocles_, O patience
Preserve me; that I make her not example
By some unworthy way; as fleaing her,
Boyling, or making verjuice, drying her.

_Soph._ I hear her.

_Petru._ Mark her then, and see the heir
Of spight and prodigality, she has studied
A way to begger's both, and by this hand
[Maria _at the dore, and Servant and Woman._
She shall be, if I live, a Doxy.

_Soph._ Fy Sir.

_Mar._ I do not like that dressing, tis too poor,
Let me have six gold laces, broad and massy,
And betwixt ev'ry lace a rich Embroydry,
Line the Gown through with Plush perfum'd, and purffle
All the sleeves down with Pearl.

_Petru._ What think you _Sophocles_.
In what point stands my state now?

_Mar._ For those hangings
Let'em be carried where I gave appointment,
They are too base for my use, and bespeak
New Pieces of the Civil Wars of _France_,
Let 'em be large and lively, and all silk work,
The borders Gold.

_Soph._ I marry sir, this cuts it.

_Mar._ That fourteen yards of Satten give my Woman,
I do not like the colour, 'tis too civil:
Ther's too much Silk i'th lace too; tell the _Dutchman_
That brought the Mares, he must with all speed send me
An other suit of Horses, and by all means
Ten cast of Hawkes for th' River, I much care not
What price they bear, so they be sound, and flying,
For the next Winter, I am for the Country;
And mean to take my pleasure; where's the Horseman?

_Petru._ She means to ride a great Horse.

_Soph._ With a side sadle?

_Petru._ Yes, and shee'l run a tilt within this twelvemonth.

_Mar._ To morrow I'll begin to learn, but pray sir
Have a great care he be an easie doer,
'Twill spoil a Scholar else.

_Soph._ An easie doer,
Did you hear that?

_Petru._ Yes, I shall meet her morals
Ere it be long I fear not.

_Mar._ O good morrow.

_Soph._ Good morrow Lady, how is't now.

_Mar._ Faith sickly,
This house stands in an ill ayr.

_Petru._ Yet more charges?

_Mar._ Subject to rots, and rheums; out on't, 'tis nothing
But a tild fog.

_Petru._ What think you of the Lodge then?

_Mar._ I like the seat, but 'tis too little, _Sophocles_
Let me have thy opinion, thou hast judgment.

_Petru._ 'Tis very well.

_Mar._ What if I pluck it down,
And build a square upon it, with two courts
Still rising from the entrance?

_Petru._ And i'th midst
A Colledge for young Scolds.

_Mar._ And to the Southward
Take in a Garden of some twenty Acres,
And cast it of the _Italian_ fashion, hanging.

_Petru._ And you could cast your self so too; pray Lady
Will not this cost much Money?

_Mar._ Some five thousand,
Say six: I'll have it Battel'd too.

_Petru._ And gilt; _Maria_,
This is a fearful course you take, pray think on't,
You are a Woman now, a Wife, and his
That must in honesty, and justice look for
Some due obedience from you.

_Mar._ That bare word
Shall cost you many a pound more, build upon't;
Tell me of due obedience? What's a Husband?
What are we married for, to carry Sumpters?
Are we not one peece with you, and as worthy
Our own intentions, as you yours?

_Petru._ Pray hear me.

_Mar._ Take two small drops of water, equal weigh'd,
Tell me which is the heaviest, and which ought
First to descend in duty?

_Petru._ You mistake me;
I urge not service from you, nor obedience
In way of duty, but of love, and Credit;
All I expect is but a noble care
Of what I have brought you, and of what I am,
And what our name may be.

_Mar._ That's in my making.

_Petru._ 'Tis true it is so.

_Mar._ Yes, it is _Petruchio_,
For there was never Man without our molding,
Without our stamp upon him, and our justice,
Left any thing three ages after him
Good, and his own.

_Soph._ Good Lady understand him.

_Mar._ I do too much, sweet _Sophocles_, he's one
Of a most spightful self condition,
Never at peace with any thing but Age,
That has no teeth left to return his anger:
A Bravery dwells in his blood yet, of abusing
His first good wife; he's sooner fire than powder,
And sooner mischief.

_Petru._ If I be so sodain
Do not you fear me?

_Mar._ No nor yet care for you,
And if it may be lawful, I defie you:

_Petru._ Do's this become you now?

_Mar._ It shall become me.

_Petru._ Thou disobedient, weak, vain-glorious woman,
Were I but half so wilful, as thou spightful,
I should now drag thee to thy duty.

_Mar._ Drag me?

_Petru._ But I am friends again: take all your pleasure.

_Mar._ Now you perceive him _Sophocles_.

_Petru._ I love thee
Above thy vanity, thou faithless creature.

_Mar._ Would I had been so happy when I Married,
But to have met an honest Man like thee,
For I am sure thou art good, I know thou art honest,
A hansome hurtless man, a loving man,
Though never a penny with him; and those eyes,
That face, and that true heart; weare this for my sake,
And when thou think'st upon me pity me:
I am cast away. [_Exit_ Mar.

_Soph._ Why how now man?

_Petru._ Pray leave me,
And follow your advices.

_Soph._ The Man's jealous:

_Petru._ I shall find a time ere it be long, to ask you
One or two foolish questions.

_Soph._ I shall answer
As well as I am able, when you call me:
If she mean true, 'tis but a little killing,
And if I do not venture it's--
Farewel sir. [_Exit_ Soph.

_Petru._ Pray farewel. Is there no keeping
A Wife to one mans use? no wintering
These cattel without straying? 'Tis hard dealing,
Very hard dealing, Gentlemen, strange dealing:
Now in the name of madness, what Star raign'd,
What dog-star, bull, or bear-star, when I married
This second wife, this whirlwind, that takes all
Within her compass? was I not well warn'd,
(I thought I had, and I believe I know it,)
And beaten to repentance in the dayes
Of my first doting? had I not wife enough
To turn my love to? did I want vexation,
Or any special care to kill my heart?
Had I not ev'ry morning a rare breakfast,
Mixt with a learned Lecture of ill language,
Louder than _Tom o'Lincoln_; and at dinner,
A dyet of the same dish? was there evening
That ere past over us, without thou Knave,
Or thou Whore for digestion? had I ever
A pull at this same poor sport men run mad for
But like a Cur I was fain to shew my teeth first,
And almost worry her? and did Heaven forgive me,
And take this Serpent from me? and am I
Keeping tame Devils now again? my heart akes;
Something I must do speedily: I'll die,
If I can hansomely, for that's the way
To make a Rascal of her; I am sick,
And I'll go very near it, but I'll perish. [_Exit._

_Scaena Quarta._

_Enter_ Livia, Byancha, Tranio, _and_ Rowland.

_Liv._ Then I must be content, Sir, with my fortune.

_Row._ And I with mine.

_Liv._ I did not think, a look,
Or a poor word or two, could have displanted
Such a fix'd constancy, and for your end too.

_Row._ Come, come, I know your courses: there's your gew-gaws,
Your Rings, and Bracelets, and the Purse you gave me,
The Money's spent in entertaining you
At Plays, and Cherry-gardens.

_Liv._ There's your Chain too.
But if you'll give me leave, I'll wear the hair still;
I would yet remember you.

_Bya._ Give him his love wench;
The young Man has imployment for't:

_Tra._ Fie _Rowland_.

_Row._ You cannot fie me out a hundred pound
With this poor plot: yet, let me ne'r see day more,
If something do not struggle strangely in me.

_Bya._ Young Man, let me talk with you.

_Row._ Well, young Woman.

_Bya._ This was your Mistriss once.

_Row._ Yes.

_Bya._ Are ye honest?
I see you are young, and hansome.

_Row._ I am honest.

_Bya._ Why that's well said: and there's no doubt your judgement
Is good enough, and strong enough to tell you
Who are your foes, and friends: Why did you leave her?

_Row._ She made a puppy of me.

_Bya._ Be that granted:
She must do so sometimes, and oftentimes;
Love were too serious else.

_Row._ A witty Woman.

_Bya._ Had you lov'd me--

_Row._ I would I had.

_Bya._ And dearly;
And I had lov'd you so: you may love worse Sir,
But that is not material.

_Row._ I shall loose.

_Bya._ Some time or other for variety
I should have call'd you Fool, or Boy, or bid you
Play with the Pages: but have lov'd you still,
Out of all question, and extreamly too;
You are a Man made to be loved.

_Row._ This Woman
Either abuses me, or loves me deadly.

_Bya._ I'll tell you one thing, if I were to choose
A Husband to mine own mind, I should think
One of your Mothers making would content me,
For o' my Conscience she makes good ones.

_Row._ Lady,
I'll leave you to your commendations:
I am in again, The Divel take their tongues.

_Bya._ You shall not goe.

_Row._ I will: yet thus far _Livia_,
Your Sorrow may induce me to forgive you,
But never love again; if I stay longer,
I have lost two hundred pound.

_Liv._ Good Sir, but thus much--

_Tra._ Turn if thou beest a Man.

_Liv._ But one kiss of you;
One parting kiss, and I am gone too.

_Row._ Come,
I shall kiss fifty pound away at this clap:
We'll have one more, and then farewel.

_Liv._ Farewel.

_Bya._ Well, go thy wayes, thou bear'st a kind heart with thee.

_Tra._ H'as made a stand.

_Bya._ A noble, brave young fellow
Worthy a Wench indeed.

_Row._ I will: I will not. [_Exit_ Rowland.

_Tra._ He's gone: but shot agen; play you but your part,
And I will keep my promise: forty Angels
In fair gold, Lady: wipe your eyes: he's yours
If I have any wit.

_Liv._ I'll pay the forfeit.

_Bya._ Come then, let's see your sister, how she fares now,
After her skirmish: and be sure, _Moroso_
Be kept in good hand; then all's perfect, _Livia_. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Quinta._

_Enter_ Jaques _and_ Pedro.

_Ped._ O _Jaques_, _Jaques_, What becomes of us?
Oh my sweet Master.

_Jaq._ Run for a Physitian,
And a whole peck of Pothecaries, _Pedro_.
He will die, didle, didle die: if they come not quickly,
And bring all People that are skilful
In Lungs and Livers: raise the neighbours,
And all the _Aquavite_-bottles extant;
And, O the Parson, _Pedro_; O the Parson,
A little of his comfort, never so little;
Twenty to one you find him at the Bush,
There's the best Ale.

_Ped._ I fly. [_Exit_ Pedro.

_Enter_ Maria, _and_ Servants.

_Mar._ Out with the Trunks, ho:
Why are you idle? Sirha, up to th' Chamber,
And take the Hangings down, and see the Linnen
Packt up, and sent away within this half hour.
What, Are the Carts come yet? some honest body
Help down the Chests of Plate, and some the Wardrobe,
Alass, we are undone else.

_Jaq._ Pray forsooth;
And I beseech ye, tell me, is he dead yet?

_Mar._ No, but is drawing on: out with the Armour.

_Jaq._ Then I'll go see him.

_Mar._ Thou art undone then Fellow: no Man that has
Been neer him come near me.

_Enter_ Sophocles, _and_ Petronius.

_Soph._ Why how now Lady, What means this?

_Petron._ Now daughter, How does my Son?

_Mar._ Save all you can for Heavens sake.

_Enter_ Livia, Byancha, _and_ Tranio.

_Liv._ Be of good comfort, Sister.

_Mar._ O my Casket.

_Petron._ How do's thy Husband Woman?

_Mar._ Get you gon, if you mean to save your lives: the Sickness.

_Petron._ Stand further off, I prethee.

_Mar._ Is i'th house Sir,
My Husband has it now;
Alas he is infected, and raves extreamly:
Give me some Counsel friends.

_Bya._ Why lock the doors up,
And send him in a Woman to attend him.

_Mar._ I have bespoke two Women; and the City
Hath sent a Watch by this time: Meat nor Money
He shall not want, nor Prayers.

_Petron._ How long is't
Since it first took him?

_Mar._ But within this three hours.

_Enter Watch._

I am frighted from my wits:--O here's the Watch;
Pray doe your Office, lock the doors up Friends,
And patience be his Angel.

_Tra._ This comes unlook'd for:

_Mar._ I'll to the lodge; some that are kind and love me,
I know will visit me. [Petruchio _within._

_Petru._ Doe you hear my Masters: ho, you that lock the doors up.

_Petron._ 'Tis his voice.

_Tra._ Hold, and let's hear him.

_Petru._ Will ye starve me here: am I a Traytor, or an Heretick.
Or am I grown infectious?

_Petron._ Pray sir, pray.

_Petru._ I am as well as you are, goodman puppy.

_Mar._ Pray have patience.
You shall want nothing Sir.

_Petru._ I want a cudgel,
And thee, thou wickedness.

_Petron._ He speaks well enough.

_Mar._ 'Had ever a strong heart Sir.

_Petru._ Will ye hear me?
First be pleas'd
To think I know ye all, and can distinguish
Ev'ry Mans several voice: you that spoke first,
I know my father in law; the other _Tranio_,
And I heard _Sophocles_; the last, pray mark me,
Is my dam'd Wife _Maria_:
If any Man misdoubt me for infected,
There is mine Arme, let any Man look on't.

_Enter Doctor and Pothecary._

_Doct._ Save ye Gentlemen.

_Petron._ O welcome Doctor,
Ye come in happy time; pray your opinion,
What think you of his pulse?

_Doct._ It beats with busiest,
And shews a general inflammation,
Which is the symptome of a pestilent Feaver,
Take twenty ounces from him.

_Petru._ Take a Fool;
Take an ounce from mine arme, and Doctor _Deuz-ace_,
I'll make a close-stoole of your Velvet Costard.
---- Gentlemen, doe ye make a may-game on me?
I tell ye once again, I am as sound,
As well, as wholsome, and as sensible,
As any of ye all: Let me out quickly,
Or as I am a Man, I'll beat the walls down,
And the first thing I light upon shall pay for't.
[_Exit Doctor and Pothecary._

_Petro._ Nay, we'll go with you Doctor.

_Mar._ 'Tis the safest;
I saw the Tokens Sir.

_Petro._ Then there is but one way.

_Petru._ Will it please you open?

_Tra._ His fit grows stronger still.

_Mar._ Let's save our selves Sir,
He's past all worldly cure.

_Petro._ Friends do your office.
And what he wants, if Money, Love, or Labor,
Or any way may win it, let him have it.
Farewell, and pray my honest Friends-- [_Exeunt._

_Petru._ Why Rascals,
Friends, Gentlemen, thou beastly Wife, _Jaques_;
None hear me? Who at the door there?

_1 Watch._ Think I pray Sir,
Whether you are going, and prepare your self.

_2 Watch._ These idle thoughts disturb you, the good Gentlewoman
Your Wife has taken care you shall want nothing.

_Petru._ Shall I come out in quiet? answer me,
Or shall I charge a Fowling-Piece, and make
Mine own way; two of ye I cannot miss,
If I miss three; ye come here to assault me.
I am as excellent well, I thank Heaven for't,
And have as good a stomach at this instant--

_2 Watch._ That's an ill sign.

_1 Watch._ He draws on; he's a dead Man.

_Petru._ And sleep as soundly; Will ye look upon me?

_1 Watch._ Do you want Pen and Ink? while you have sense sir,
Settle your state.

_Petru._ Sirs, I am well, as you are;
Or any Rascal living.

_2 Watch._ Would you were Sir.

_Petru._ Look to your selves, and if you love your lives,
Open the door, and fly me, for I shoot else;
--I'll shoot, and presently, chain-bullets;
And under four I will not kill.

_1 Watch._ Let's quit him,
It may be it is a trick: he's dangerous.

_2 Watch._ The Devil take the hinmost, I cry. [_Exit Watch running._

_Enter_ Petruchio _with a Piece._

_Petru._ Have among ye;
The door shall open too, I'll have a fair shoot;
Are ye all gone? tricks in my old dayes, crackers
Put now upon me? and, by Lady _Green-sleeves_?
Am I grown so tame after all my triumphs?
But that I should be thought mad, if I rail'd,
As much as they deserve, against these Women,
I would now rip up, from the primitive Cuckold,
All their arch-villanies, and all their doubles,
Which are more than a hunted Hare ere thought on:
When a Man has the fairest, and the sweetest
Of all their Sex, and as he thinks the noblest,
What has he then? and I'll speak modestly,
He has a Quartern-ague, that shall shake
All his estate to nothing; never cur'd,
Nor never dying; He'as a ship to venture
His fame, and credit in, which if he Man not
With more continual labour than a Gally
To make her tith, either she grows a Tumbrel,
Not worth the Cloth she wears; or springs more leakes
Than all the fame of his posterity
Can ever stop again: I could raile twenty dayes;
Out on 'em, Hedge-hogs,
He that shall touch 'em, has a thousand thorns
Runs through his fingers: If I were unmarried,
I would do any thing below repentance,
Any base dunghill slavery; be a Hang-man,
Ere I would be a Husband: O the thousand,
Thousand, ten thousand wayes they have to kill us!
Some fall with t[o]o much stringing of the Fiddles,
And those are fools; some, that they are not suffer'd,
And those are Maudlin-lovers: some, like Scorpions,
They poyson with their tails, and those are Martyrs;
Some dye with doing good, those Benefactors,
And leave 'em land to leap away: some few,
For those are rarest, they are said to kill
With kindness, and fair usage; but what they are
My Catalogue discovers not: only 'tis thought
They are buried in old Walls, with their heels upward.
I could raile twenty dayes together now.
I'll seek 'em out, and if I have not reason,
And very sensible, why this was done,
I'll go a birding yet, and some shall smart for't. [_Exit._

_Actus Quartus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Moroso _and_ Petronius.

_Mor._ That I do love her, is without all question,
And most extremely, dearly, most exactly;
And that I would ev'n now, this present Monday,
Before all others, Maids, Wives, Women, Widows,
Of what degree or calling, Marry her,
As certain too; but to be made a Whim-wham,
A Jib-crack, and a Gentleman o'th first house
For all my kindness to her.

_Petron._ How you take it?
Thou get a Wench, thou get a dozen night-caps?
Wouldst have her come, and lick thee like a Calfe,
And blow thy nose, and buss thee?

_Mor._ Not so neither.

_Petron._ What wouldst thou have her do?

_Mor._ Do as she [sh]ould do;
Put on a clean Smock, and to Church, and Marry,
And then to Bed a Gods name, this is fair play,
And keeps the Kings peace, let her leave her bobs,
I have had too many of them, and her quillets,
She is as nimble that way as an Ee[le];
But in the way she ought to me especially,
A sow of Lead is swifter.

_Petron._ Quoat your griefs down.

_Mor._ Give fair quarter, I am old and crasie,
And subject to much fumbling, I confess it;
Yet something I would have that's warme, to hatch me:
But understand me I would have it so,
I buy not more repentance in the bargain
Than the ware's worth I have; if you allow me
Worthy your Son-in-Law, and your allowance,
Do it a way of credit; let me show so,
And not be troubled in my visitations,
With blows, and bitterness, and down-right railings,
As if we were to couple like two Cats,
With clawing, and loud clamour:

_Petron._ Thou fond Man.
Hast thou forgot the Ballad, crabbed age,
Can _May_ and _January_ match together,
And nev'r a storm between 'em? say she abuse thee,
Put case she doe.

_Mor._ Well.

_Petron._ Nay, believe she do's.

_Mor._ I do believe she do's.

_Petron._ And div'lishly:
Art thou a whit the worse?

_Mor._ That's not the matter,
I know, being old, tis fit I am abus'd;
I know 'tis hansome, and I know moreover
I am to love her for't.

_Petron._ Now you come to me.

_Mor._ Nay more than this; I find too, and find certain,
What Gold I have, Pearle, Bracelets, Rings, or Owches,
Or what she can desire, Gowns, Petticotes,
Wastcotes, Embroydered-stockings, Scarffs, Cals, Feathers,
Hats, five pound Garters, Muffs, Masks, Ruffs, and Ribands,
I am to give her for't.

_Petron._ 'Tis right, you are so.

_Mor._ But when I have done all this, and think it duty,
Is't requisit an other bore my nostrils?
Riddle me that.

_Petron._ Go get you gone, and dreame
She's thine within these two dayes, for she is so;
The Boy's beside the saddle: get warm broths,
And feed a pace; think not of worldly business,
It cools the blood; leave off your tricks, they are hateful,
And meere fore-runners of the ancient measures;
Contrive your beard o'th top cut like _Verdugoes_;
It shows you would be wise, and burn your night-cap,
It looks like half a winding-sheet, and urges
From a young Wench nothing but cold repentance:
You may eate Onyons, so you'l not be lavish.

_Mor._ I am glad of that.

_Petron._ They purge the blood, and quicken,
But after 'em, conceive me, sweep your mouth,
And where there wants a tooth, stick in a clove.

_Mor._ Shall I hope once again, say't.

_Petra._ You shall Sir:
And you shall have your hope.

_Moro._ Why there's a match then.

_Enter_ Byancha _and_ Tranio.

_Byan._ You shall not find me wanting, get you gone.
Here's the old Man, he'l think you are plotting else
Something against his new Son. [_Exit_ Tranio.

_Moro._ Fare ye well Sir. [_Exit_ Moroso.

Byan. _And ev'ry Buck had his Doe,
And ev'ry Cuckold a Bell at his Toe:
Oh what sport should we have then, then Boyes then,
Oh what sport should we have then?_

_Petro._ This is the spirit, that inspires 'em all.

_By._ Give you good ev'n.

_Petro._ A word with you Sweet Lady.

_By._ I am very hasty, Sir.

_Petro._ So you were ever.

_By._ Well, What's your will?

_Petro._ Was not your skilful hand
In this last stratagem? Were not your mischiefs
Eeking the matter on?

_By._ In's shutting up?
Is that it?

_Petro._ Yes.

_By._ I'll tell you.

_Petro._ Doe.

_By._ And truly.
Good old Man, I do grieve exceeding much,
I fear too much.

_Petro._ I am sorry for your heaviness.
Belike you can repent then?

_By._ There you are wide too.
Not that the thing was done (conceive me rightly)
Do's any way molest me.

_Petro._ What then Lady?

_By._ But that I was not in't, there's my sorrow, there
Now you understand me, for I'll tell you,
It was so sound a piece, and so well carried,
And if you mark the way, so hansomely,
Of such a heighth, and excellence, and art
I have not known a braver; for conceive me,
When the gross fool her Husband would be sick--

_Petro._ Pray stay.

_By._ Nay, good, your patience: and no sence for't,
Then stept your daughter in.

_Petro._ By your appointment.

_By._ I would it had, on that condition
I had but one half smock, I like it so well;
And like an excellent cunning Woman, cur'd me
One madness with another, which was rare,
And to our weak beliefs, a wonder.

_Petro._ Hang ye,
For surely, if your husband look not to ye,
I know what will.

_By._ I humbly thank your worship.
And so I take my leave.

_Petro._ You have a hand I hear too.

_By._ I have two Sir.

_Petro._ In my young daughters business.

_By._ You will find there
A fitter hand than mine, to reach her frets,
And play down diddle to her.

_Petro._ I shall watch ye.

_By._ Do.

_Petro._ And I shall have Justice.

_By._ Where?

_Petro._ That's all one;
I shall be with you at a turne hence forward.

_By._ Get you a Posset too; and so good ev'n Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Petruchio, Jaques, _and_ Pedro.

_Jaq._ And as I told your worship, all the hangings,
Brass, Pewter, Plate, ev'n to the very looking-glasses.

_Ped._ And that that hung for our defence, the Armor,
And the March Beere was going too: Oh _Jaques_
What a sad sight was that!

_Jaq._ Even the two Rundlets,
The two that was our hope, of Muskadel,
(Better nev'r tongue tript over) those two Cannons,
To batter brawn withal at _Christmass_, Sir,
Ev'n those two lovely Twyns, the Enemy
Had almost cut off clean.

_Petru._ Goe trim the House up.
And put the things in order as they were. [_Ex._ Ped. _and_ Jaq.
I shall find time for all this: could I find her
But constant any way, I had done my business;
Were she a Whore directly, or a Scold,
An unthrift, or a Woman made to hate me,
I had my wish, and knew which way to rayne her:
But while she shews all these, and all their losses,
A kind of linsey woolsey, mingled mischief
Not to be ghest at, and whether true, or borrowed,

_Enter_ Maria.

Not certain neither, What a hap had I,
And what a tydie fortune, when my fate
Flung me upon this Bear-whelp! here she comes,
Now, if she have a colour, for the fault is
A cleanly one, upon my Conscience
I shall forgive her yet, and find a something
Certain, I Married for: her wit: I'll marke her.

_Mar._ Not let his Wife come near him in his sickness?
Not come to comfort him? she that all Laws
Of heaven, and Nations have ordain'd his second,
Is she refus'd? and two old Paradoxes,
Pieces of five and fifty, without faith
Clapt in upon him? h'as a little pet,
That all young Wives must follow necessary,
Having their Maiden-heads--

_Petru._ This is an Axiome
I never heard before.

_Mar._ Or say Rebellion,
If we durst be so foul, which two fair words
Alas win us from, in an hour, an instant,
We are so easie, make him so forgetful
Both of his reason, honesty, and credit,
As to deny his Wife a visitation?
His Wife, that (though she was a little foolish,)
Lov'd him, Oh Heaven forgive her for't! nay doted,
Nay had run mad, had she not married him.

_Petru._ Though I do know this falser than the Devil,
I cannot choose but love it.

_Mar._ What do I know
But those that came to keep him, might have kill'd him,
In what a case had I been then? I dare not
Believe him such a base, debosh'd companion,
That one refusal of a tender Maid
Would make him faign this Sickness out of need,
And take a Keeper to him of Fourscore
To play at _Billiards_; one that mew'd content
And all her teeth together; not come near him?

_Petru._ This Woman would have made a most rare Jesuite,
She can prevaricate on any thing:
There was not to be thought a way to save her
In all imagination, beside this.

_Mar._ His unkind dealing, which was worst of all,
In sending, who knowes whether, all the plate,
And all the houshold-stuffe, had I not crost it,
By a great providence, and my friends assistance
Which he will thank me one day for: alas,
I could have watch'd as well as they, have serv'd him
In any use, better, and willinger.
The Law commands me to do it, love commands me,
And my own duty charges me.

_Petru._ Heav'n bless me.
And now I have said my Prayers, I'll go to her:
Are you a Wife for any Man?

_Mar._ For you Sir.
If I were worse, I were better; That you are well,
At least, that you appear so, I thank Heaven,
Long may it hold, and that you are here, I am glad too;
But that you have abus'd me wretchedly,
And such a way that shames the name of Husband,
Such a malicious mangy way, so mingled,
(Never look strangely on me, I dare tell you)
With breach of honesty, care, kindness, manners.

_Petru._ Holla, you kick too fast.

_Mar._ Was I a stranger?
Or had I vow'd perdition to your person?
Am I not Married to you, tell me that?

_Petru._ I would I could not tell you.

_Mar._ Is my presence,
The stock I come of, which is worshipful,
If I should say Right worshipful, I ly'd not,
My Grandsire was a Knight.

_Petru._ O'the Shire?

_Mar._ A Soldier,
Which none of all thy Family e're heard of,
But one conductor of thy name, a Grasier
That ran away with pay: or am I grown
(Because I have been a little peevish to you,
Onely to try your temper) such a dogge-leech
I could not be admitted to your presence?

_Petru._ If I endure this, hang me.

_Mar._ And two deaths heads,
Two _Harry_ Groats, that had their faces worn,
Almost their names away too.

_Petru._ Now hear me.
For I will stay no longer.

_Mar._ This you shall:
How ever you shall think to flatter me,
For this offence, which no submission
Can ever mediate for, you'l find it so,
What ever you shall do by intercession,
What you can offer, what your Land can purchase,
What all your friends, or families can win,
Shall be but this, not to forswear your knowledge,
But ever to forbear it: now your will Sir.

_Petru._ Thou art the subtlest Woman I think living,
I am sure the lewdest; now be still, and mark me;
Were I but any way addicted to the Devil,
I should now think I had met a play-fellow
To profit by, and that way the most learned
That ever taught to murmur. Tell me thou,
Thou most poor, paltry spiteful Whore: Do you cry?
I'll make you roare, before I leave.

_Mar._ Your pleasure.

_Petru._ Was it not sin enough, thou Fruiterer,
Full of the fall thou eat'st: thou Devils Broker,
Thou Seminary of all sedition,
Thou Sword of veng'ance, with a thred hung o're us,
Was it not sin enough, and wickedness
In full abundance? Was it not vexation
At all points, _cap a pe_? nay, I shall pinch you,
Thus like a rotten Rascal to abuse
The name of Heaven, the tye of Marriage,
The honour of thy Friends; the expectation
Of all that thought thee virtuous, with Rebellion,
Childish and base Rebellion, but continuing
After forgiveness too, and worse, your mischief,
And against him, setting the hope of Heaven by,
And the dear reservation of his honor
Nothing above ground could have won to hate thee:
Well, goe thy wayes.

_Mar._ Yes.

_Petru._ You shall hear me out first:
What punishment may'st thou deserve, thou thing,
Thou Idle thing of nothing, thou pull'd Primrose,
That two hours after, art a Weed, and wither'd,
For this last flourish on me? am I one
Selected out of all the Husbands living,
To be so ridden by a Tit of ten pence,
Am I so blind and Bed-rid? I was mad,
And had the Plague, and no Man must come near me,
I must be shut up, and my substance bezel'd,
And an old Woman watch me.

_Mar._ Well Sir, well,
You may well glory in't.

_Petru._ And when it comes to opening, 'tis my plot,
I must undoe my self forsooth: do'st hear me?
If I should beat thee now, as much may be,
Do'st thou not well deserve it, o' thy Conscience,
Do'st thou not cry, come beat me?