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?
Mar. I defie you.
And my last loving tears farewell: the first stroke,
The very first you give me, if you dare strike,
Try me, and you shall find it so, for ever,
Never to be recall'd: I know you love me,
Mad till you have enjoy'd me; I do turne
Utterly from you, and what Man I meet first
That has but spirit to deserve a favour,
Let him bear any shape, the worse the better.
Shall kill you, and enjoy me; what I have said
About your foolish sickness, e're you have me
As you would have me, you shall swear, is certain,
And challenge any Man, that dares deny it;
And in all companies approve my actions,
And so farewell for this time. [Ex. Mar.
Petru. Grief goe with thee,
If there be any witchcrafts, herbes, or potions,
Saying my Prayers backward, Fiends, or Fayries
That can again unlove me, I am made. [Exit.
Enter Byancha, and Tranio.
Tra. Mistress, you must do it.
By. Are the Writings ready I told you of?
Tra. Yes they are ready, but to what use I know not.
By. Y'are an Ass, you must have all things constru'd.
Tra. Yes, and pierc'd too,
Or I find little pleasure.
By. Now you are knavish,
Goe too, fetch Rowland hither presently,
Your Twenty [pound] lies bleeding else: she is married
Within these twelve hours, if we cross it not,
And see the Papers of one size.
Tra. I have ye.
By. And for disposing of 'em.
Tra. If I fail you
Now I have found the way, use Marshal Law
And cut my head off with a hand Saw:
By. Well Sir.
Petronius and Moroso I'll see sent for,
About your business; goe.
Tra. I am gone. [Ex. Tra.
Enter Livia.
By. Ho Livia.
Liv. Who's that?
By. A friend of yours, Lord how you look now,
As if you had lost a Carrack.
Liv. O Byancha.
I am the most undone, unhappy Woman.
By. Be quiet Wench, thou shalt be done, and done,
And done, and double done, or all shall split for't,
No more of these minc'd passions, they are mangy,
And ease thee of nothing, but a little Wind,
An Apple will do more: thou fear'st Moroso.
Liv. Even as I fear the Gallowes.
By. Keep thee there still.
And you love Rowland? say.
Liv. If I say not,
I am sure I lye.
By. What wouldst thou give that Woman,
In spight of all his anger, and thy fear,
And all thy Fathers policy, that could
Clap ye within these two nights quietly
Into a Bed together?
Liv. How?
By. Why fairly,
At half sword man and wife: now the red blood comes,
I marry now the matters chang'd.
Liv. Byancha,
Methinks you should not mock me.
By. Mock a pudding.
I speak good honest English, and good meaning.
Liv. I should not be ungrateful to that Woman.
By. I know thou would'st not, follow but my Councel,
And if thou hast him not, despite of fortune
Let me nev'r know a good night more; you must
Be very sick o'th instant.
Liv. Well, what follows?
By. And in that sickness send for all your friends,
Your Father, and your feaver old Moroso,
And Rowland shall be there too.
Liv. What of these?
By. Do you not twitter yet? of this shall follow
That which shall make thy heart leap, and thy lips
Venture as many kisses, as the Merchants
Doe Dollars to the East-Indies: you shall know all,
But first walke in, and practise, pray be sick.
Liv. I do believe you: and I am sick.
By. Doe,
To bed then, come, I'll send away your Servants
Post for your Fool, and Father; and good fortune,
As we meane honesty, now strike an up-shot. [Ex[e]unt.
Enter Tranio, and Rowland.
Tra. Nay, on my conscience, I have lost my Money,
But that's all one: I'll never more perswade you,
I see you are resolute, and I commend you.
Row. But did she send for me?
Tra. You dare believe me.
Row. I cannot tell, you have your wayes for profit
Allow'd you Tranio, as well as I
Have to avoid 'em [feare].
Tra. No, on my word, Sir,
I deale directly with you.
Enter Servant.
Row. How now fellow,
Whither Post you so fast?
Ser. O sir my Master,
Pray did you see my Master?
Row. Why your Master?
Ser. Sir his Jewel.
Row. With the gilded Button?
Serv. My pretty Mistress Livia.
Row. What of her?
Serv. Is falen sick o'th suddain.
Row. How o'th sullens?
Ser. O'th suddain Sir, I say, very sick:
Row. It seems she hath got the toothach with raw Apples.
Ser. It seemes you have got the headach, fare you well Sir.
You did not see my Master?
Row. Who told you so?
Tra. No, no, he did not see him.
Row. Farewell Blew-bottle. [Ex. Servant.
What should her sickness be?
Tra. For you it may be.
Row. Yes, when my braines are out, I may believe it,
Never before I am sure: Yet I may see her;
'Twill be a point of honesty:
Tra. It will so.
Row. It may be not too: you would fain be fing'ring
This old sin-offring of two hundred, Tranio,
How daintily, and cunningly you drive me
Up like a Deer to'th toyle, yet I may leap it,
And what's the Woodman then?
Tra. A loser by you.
Speak, Will you go or not? to me 'tis equal.
Row. Come, What goes less?
Tra. Nay, not a penny Rowland.
Row. Shall I have liberty of conscience,
Which, by interpretation, is ten kisses?
Hang me if I affect: her: yet it may be,
This whorson manners will require a strugling,
Of two and twenty, or by'r-Lady thirty.
Tra. By'r-Lady I'll require my wager then,
For if you kiss so often, and no kindness,
I have lost my speculation, I'll allow you—
Row. Speak like a Gamster now.
Tra. It may be two.
Row. Under a dozen Tranio, there's no setting,
You shall have forty shillings, winck at small faults.
Say I take twenty, come, by all that's honest
I do it but to vex her.
Tra. I'll no by-blowes.
If you can love her, doe, if you can, hate her,
Or any else that loves you—
Row. Prethee Tranio.
Tra. Why farewell twenty pound, 'twill not undoe me;
You have my resolution.
Row. And your Money,
Which since you are so stubborn, if I forfeit,
Make me a Jack o' Lent, and break my shins
For untag'd Points and Compters: I'll goe with you,
But if thou gett'st a penny by the bargain;
A parting kiss is lawful?
Tra. I allow it.
Row. Knock out my brains with Apples; yet a bargain:
Tra. I tell you, I'll no bargains; win, and wear it.
Row. Thou art the strangest fellow.
Tra. That's all one.
Row. Along then, twenty pound more if thou dar'st,
I give her not a good word.
Tra. Not a Penny. [Exeunt.
Enter Petruchio, Jaques, and Pedro.
Petru. Prethee, entreat her come, I will not trouble her
Above a word or two; ere I endure [Exit Pedro.
This life and with a Woman, and a vow'd one
To all the mischiefs she can lay upon me,
I'll go to Plough [again], and eate Leeke Porridge;
Begging's a pleasure to't, not to be number'd:
No there be other Countries Jaques for me and other people, yea, and other women.
If I have need here's Money, there's your ware,
Which is faire dealing, and the Sun, they say,
Shines as warme there, as here, and till I have lost
Either my self, or her, I care not whether
Nor which first.
Jaq. Will your worship hear me?
Petru. And utterly outworne the memory
Of such a curse as this, none of my Nation
Shall ever know me more.
Jaq. Out alas Sir.
What a strange way doe you run!
Petru. Any way,
So I out-run this Rascal.
Jaq. Me thinks now,
If your good worship could but have the patience.
Petru. The patience, why the patience?
Jaq. Why I'll tell you,
Could you but have the patience.
Petru. Well the patience.
Jaq. To laugh at all she do's, or when she railes,
To have a Drum beaten o'th top o'th house,
To give the neighbors warning of her Larme,
As I do when my Wife rebels.
Petru. Thy Wife?
Thy Wife's a Pigeon to her, a meere slumber,
The dead of night's not stiller.
Jaq. Nor an Iron Mill.
Petru. But thy Wife is certain.
Jaq. That's false Doctrine,
You never read of a certain Woman.
Petru. Thou know'st her way.
Jaq. I should doe, I am sure.
I have ridden it night, and day, this twenty year.
Petru. But mine is such a drench of Balderdash,
Such a strange carded cunningness, the Rayne-bow
When she hangs bent in Heaven, sheds not her colours
Quicker, and more, than this deceitful Woman
Enter Ped.
Weaves in her dye's of wickedness: what sayes she?
Ped. Nay not a word sir, but she pointed to me,
As though she meant to follow; pray sir bear it
Ev'n as you may, I need not teach your worship,
The best men have their crosses, we are all mortal.
Petru. What ailes the fellow?
Ped. And no doubt she may Sir.
Petru. What may she, or what do's she, or what is she?
Speak and be hang'd.
Ped. She's mad Sir.
Petru. Heaven continue it.
Ped. Amen if't be his pleasure.
Petru. How mad is she?
Ped. As mad as heart can wish Sir: she has drest her self
(Saving your worships reverence) just i'th' cut
Of one of those that multiply i'th Suburbs
For single Money, and as durtily:
If any speak to her, first she whistles,
And then begins her compass with her fingers,
And points to what she would have.
Petru. What new way's this?
Ped. There came in Master Sophocles.
Petru. And what
Did Master Sophocles when he came in?
Get my Truncks ready, sirha, I'll be gone straight.
Ped. He's here to tell you
She's horne mad Jaques.
Enter Sophocles.
Soph. Call ye this a Woman?
Petru. Yes sir, she is a Woman.
Soph. Sir, I doubt it.
Petru. I had thought you had made experience.
Soph. Yes, I did so.
And almost with my life.
Petru. You rid too fast, Sir.
Soph. Pray be not mistaken: by this hand
Your wife's as chaste, and honest as a Virgin,
For any thing I know: 'tis true she gave me
A Ring.
Petru. For rutting.
Soph. You are much deceiv'd still,
Believe me, I never kist her since, and now
Coming in visitation, like a friend,
I think she is mad, Sir, suddainly she started,
And snatch'd the Ring away, and drew her knife out,
To what intent I know not.
Petru. Is this certain?
Soph. As I am here, Sir.
Petru. I believe you honest.
And pray continue so.
Enter Maria.
Soph. She comes.
Petru. Now Damsel,
What will your beauty do if I forsake you?
Do you deal by signs, and tokens? as I ghess then,
You'll walk abroad, this Summer, and catch Captains,
Or hire a piece of holy ground i' th' Suburbs,
And keep a Nest of Nuns?
Soph. Oh do not stir her!
You see in what a case she is?
Petru. She is dogged,
And in a beastly case I am sure: I'll make her,
If she have any tongue, yet tattle. Sophocles,
Prethee observe this woman seriously,
And eye her well, and when thou hast done, but tell me
(For thou hast understanding) in what case
My sense was, when I chose this thing.
Soph. I'll tell you
I have seen a sweeter—
Petru. An hundred times cry Oisters.
There's a poor Begger-wench about Black-Fryers
Runs on her breech, may be an Empress to her.
Soph. Nay, now you are too bitter.
Petr[u]. Nev'r a whit Sir:
I'll tell thee woman; for now I have day to see thee,
And all my wits about me, and I speak
Not out of passion neither (leave your mumping)
I know you're well enough: Now would I give
A million but to vex her: when I chose thee
To make a Bedfellow, I took more trouble,
Than twenty Terms can come to, such a cause,
Of such a title, and so everlasting
That Adams Genealogie may be ended
E'r any Law find thee: I took a Leprosie,
Nay worse, the plague, nay worse yet, a possession
And had the devil with thee, if not more:
And yet worse, was a beast, and like a beast
Had my reward, a Jade to fling my fortunes;
For who that had but reason to distinguish
The light from darkness, wine from water, hunger
From full satiety, and Fox from Fern-bush
That would have married thee?
Soph. She is not so ill.
Petru. She's worse than I dare think of: she's so lewd;
No Court is strong enough to bear her cause,
She hath neither manners, honesty, behaviour,
Wife-hood, nor woman-hood, nor any mortal
Can force me think she had a mother: no
I do believe her stedfastly, and know her
To be a Woman-wolfe by transmigration,
Her first forme was a Ferrets under-ground,
She kils the memories of men: not yet?
Soph. Do you think she's sensible of this?
Petru. I care not,
Be what she will: the pleasure I take in her,
Thus I blow off; the care I took to love her,
Like this point, I untie, and thus I loose it;
The husband I am to her, thus I sever;
My vanity farewel: yet, for you have been
So near me, as to bear the name of wife,
My unquench'd charity shall tell you thus much,
(Though you deserve it well) you shall not beg,
What I ordain'd your Joynture, honestly
You shall have setled on you: and half my house,
The other half shall be imploy'd in prayers,
(That meritorious charge I'll be at also
Yet to confirm you Christian) your apparel,
And what belongs to build up such a folly,
Keep I beseech you, it infects our uses,
And now I am for travel.
Mar. Now I love you,
And now I see you are a man, I'll talke to you,
And I forget your bitterness.
Soph. How now man?
Petru. Oh Pliny, if thou wilt be ever famous
Make but this woman all thy wonders.
Mar. Sure Sir
You have hit upon a happy course, a blessed,
And what will make you virtuous?
Petru. She'll ship me.
Mar. A way of understanding I long wish'd for,
And now 'tis come, take heed you fly not back Sir,
Methinks you look a new man to me now,
A man of excellence, and now I see
Some great design set in you: you may think now
(And so may most that know me) 'twere my part
Weakly to weep your loss, and to resist you,
Nay, hang about your neck, and like a dotard
Urge my strong tie upon you: but I love you,
And all the world shall know it, beyond woman;
And more prefer the honor of your Countrey,
Which chiefly you are born for, and may perfect,
The uses you may make of other Nations,
The ripening of your knowledge, conversation,
The full ability, and strength of judgement.
Than any private love, or wanton kisses.
Go worthy man, and bring home understanding.
Soph. This were an excellent woman to breed School-men.
Mar. For if the Merchant through unknown Seas plough
To get his wealth, then dear Sir, what must you
To gather wisdom? go, and go alone,
Only your noble mind for your companion,
And if a woman may win credit with you,
Go far, too far you cannot: still the farther
The more experience finds you: and go sparing,
One meal a week will serve you, and one sute,
Through all your travels: for you'll find it certain,
The poorer and the baser you appear,
The more you look through still.
Petru. Dost hear her?
Soph. Yes.
Petru. What would this woman do if she were suffer'd,
Upon a new Religion?
Soph. Make us Pagans,
I wonder that she writes not.
Mar. Then when time,
And fulness of occasion have new made you,
And squar'd you from a Sot into a Signior,
Or nearer, from a Jade into a Courser;
Come home an aged man, as did Ulysses,
And I your glad Penelope.
Petru. That must have
As many Lovers as I Languages.
And what she does with one i'th' day, i'th' night
Undoe it with another.
Mar. Much that way, Sir;
For in your absence it must be my honor,
That, that must make me spoken of hereafter,
To have temptations, and not little ones
Daily and hourly offered me, and strongly,
Almost believed against me, to set off
The faith, and loyalty of her that loves you.
Petru. What should I do?
Soph. Why by my —— I would travel,
Did not you mean so?
Petr. Alas no, nothing less man:
I did it but to try, Sir, she's the Devil,
And now I find it, for she drives me; I must go:
Are my trunks down there, and my horses ready?
Mar. Sir, for your house, and if you please to trust me
With that you leave behind.
Petru. Bring down the money.
Mar. As I am able, and to my poor fortunes,
I'll govern as a widow: I shall long
To hear of your well-doing, and your profit:
And when I hear not from you once a quarter,
I'll wish you in the Indies, or Cata[ya],
Those are the climes must make you.
Petru. How's the wind?
She'll wish me out o'th' world anon.
Mar. For France.
'Tis very fair; get you aboard to night, Sir,
And loose no time, you know the tide staies no man,
I have cold meats ready for you.
Petru. Fare thee well,
Thou hast fool'd me out o' th' Kingdom with a vengeance,
And thou canst fool me in again.
Mar. Not I Sir,
I love you better, take your time, and pleasure.
I'll see you hors'd.
Petru. I think thou wouldst see me hanged too,
Were I but half as willing.
Mar. Any thing
That you think well of, I dare look upon.
Petru. You'll bear me to the Lands end, Sophocles,
And other of my friends I hope.
Mar. Nev'r doubt, Sir,
You cannot want companions for your good:
I am sure you'll kiss me e'r I go; I have business,
And stay long here I must not.
Petru. Get thee going.
For if thou tarriest but another Dialogue
I'll kick thee to thy Chamber.
Mar. Fare you well, Sir,
And bear your self, I do beseech you, once more,
Since you have undertaken doing wisely,
Manly, and worthily, 'tis for my credit,
And for those flying fames here of your follies,
Your gambols, and ill breeding of your youth,
For which I understand you take this travel,
Nothing should make me leave you else, I'll deal
So like a wife that loves your reputation,
And the most large addition of your credit,
That those shall die: if you want Limon-waters,
Or any thing to take the edge o' th' Sea off,
Pray speak, and be provided.
Petru. Now the Devil,
That was your first good Master, showre his blessing
Upon ye all: Into whose custody—
Mar. I do commit your Reformation,
And so I leave you to your Stilo novo. [Exit Maria.
Petru. I will go: yet I will not: once more Sophocles
I'll put her to the test.
Soph. You had better go.
Petru. I will go then: let's seek my Father out,
And all my friends, to see me fair aboard:
Then women, if there be a storm at Sea,
Worse than your tongues can make, and waves more broken,
Than your dissembling faiths are, let me feel
Nothing but tempests, till they crack my Keel. [Exeunt.
Enter Petronius, and Byancha, with four papers.
By. Now whether I deserve that blame you gave me,
Let all the world discern, Sir.
Petro. If this motion,
(I mean this fair repentance of my Daughter)
Spring from your good perswasion, as it seems so,
I must confess I have spoke too boldly of you,
And I repent.
By. The first touch was her own,
Taken no doubt from disobeying you,
The second I put to her, when I told her
How good, and gentle yet, with free contrition
Again you might be purchas'd: loving woman,
She heard me, and I thank her, thought me worthy
Observing in this point: yet all my counsel,
And comfort in this case, could not so heal her
But that grief got his share too, and she sick'ned.
Petro. I am sorry she's so ill, yet glad her sickness
Has got so good a ground.
Enter Moroso.
By. Here comes Moroso.
Petro. Oh, you are very welcome,
Now you shall know your happiness.
Mor. I am glad on't.
What makes this Lady here?
By. A dish for you, Sir
You'll thank me for hereafter.
Petro. True Moroso,
Go get you in, and see your Mistriss.
By. She is sick, Sir,
But you may kiss her whole.
Mor. How.
By. Comfort her.
Mor. Why am I sent for, Sir?
Petro. Will you in, and see?
By. May be she needs confession.
Mor. By St. Mary,
She shall have absolution then, and pennance,
But not above her carriage.
Petro. Get you in fool. [Exit Mor.
Bya. Here comes the other too.
Enter Rowland and Tranio.
Petro. Now Tranio.
Good ev'n to you too, and you are welcome.
Row. Thank you.
Petro. I have a certain Daughter.
Row. Would you had, Sir.
Petro. No doubt you know her well.
Row. Nor never shall, Sir.
She is a woman, and the waies unto her
Are like the finding of a certain path
After a deep fall'n Snow.
Petro. Well, that's by th' by still.
This Daughter that I tell you of, is fall'n
A little crop sick, with the dangerous surfeit
She took of your affection.
Row. Mine Sir?
Petro. Yes Sir.
Or rather, as it seems, repenting.
And there she lies within, debating on't.
Row. Well Sir.
Petro. I think 'twere well you would see her.
Row. If you please, Sir;
I am not squeamish of my visitation.
Petron. But, this I'll tell you, she is alter'd much,
You'll find her now another Livia.
Row. I have enough o' th' old, Sir.
Petro. No more fool,
To look gay babies in your eyes young Rowland,
And hang about your pretty neck.
Row. I am glad on't,
And thank my Fates I have scap'd such execution.
Petron. And buss you till you blush again.
Row. That's hard, Sir;
She must kiss shamefully e're I blush at it,
I never was so boyish; well, what follows?
Petro. She's mine now, as I please to settle her
At my command, and where I please to plant her:
Only she would take a kind of farewel of you,
And give you back a wandring vow or two,
You left in pawn; and two or three slight oaths
She lent you too, she looks for.
Row. She shall have 'em
With all my heart, Sir, and if you like it better,
A free release in writing.
Petro. That's the matter,
And you from her, [you] shall have another Rowland,
And then turn tail to tail, and peace be with you.
Row. So be it: Your twenty pound sweats Tranio.
Tra. 'Twill not undoe me Rowland, do your worst.
Row. Come, shall we see her, Sir?
Bya. What e'er she saies
You must bear manly Rowland, for her sickness
Has made her somewhat [teatish.]
Row. Let her talk
Till her tongue ake, I care not: by this hand
Thou hast a handsome face wench, and a body
Daintily mounted; now do I feel an hundred
Running directly from me, as I pist it.
Enter Livia discovered abed, and Moroso by her.
Bya. Pray draw 'em softly, the least hurry, Sir,
Puts her to much impatience.
Petro. How is't daughter?
Liv. Oh very sick, very sick, yet somewhat
Better I hope; a little lightsomer,
Because this good man has forgiven me;
Pray set me higher; oh my head:
Bya. Well done wench.
Liv. Father, and all good people that shall hear me,
I have abus'd this man perniciously; was never old man humbled so;
I have scorn'd him, and call'd him nasty names,
I have spit at him,
Flung Candles ends in's beard, and call'd him harrow,
That must be drawn to all he does: contemn'd him,
For methought then, he was a beastly fellow.
(Oh [God] my side) a very beastly fellow:
And gave it out, his Cassock was a Barge-cloth,
Pawn'd to his predecessor by a Sculler,
The man yet living: I gave him purging comfits
At a great Christning once,
That spoil'd his Chamblet breeches; and one night
I strew'd the stairs with pease, as he past down;
And the good Gentleman (woe worth me for't)
Ev'n with this reverend head, this head of wisdom,
Told two and twenty stairs, good and true;
Mist not a step, and as we say, verbatim
Fell to the bottom, broke his casting Bottle,
Lost a fair Toad-stone, of some eighteen shillings,
Jumbled his Joynts together, had two stools,
And was translated. All this villany
Did I: I Livia, I alone, untaught.
Mor. And I unask'd, forgive it.
Liv. Where's Byancha?
Bya. Here Cosin.
Liv. Give me drink.
Bya. There.
Liv. Who's that?
Mor. Rowland.
Liv. Oh my dissembler, you and I must part.
Come nearer, Sir.
Row. I am sorry for your sickness.
Liv. Be sorry for your self, Sir, you have wrong'd me,
But I forgive you; are the Papers ready?
Bya. I have 'em here: wilt please you view 'em?
Petro. Yes.
Liv. Shew 'em the young man too, I know he's willing
To shift his sails too: 'tis for his more advancement;
Alas, we might have begger'd one another;
We are young both, and a world of children
Might have been left behind to curse our follies:
We had been undone Byancha, had we married,
Undone for ever, I confess I lov'd him,
I care not who shall know it, most intirely;
And once, upon my conscience, he lov'd me;
But farewel that, we must be wiser, cosin,
Love must not leave us to the world: have you done?
Row. Yes, and am ready to subscribe.
Liv. Pray stay then:
Give me the papers, and let me peruse 'em,
And so much time, as may afford a tear
At our last parting.
Bya. Pray retire, and leave her,
I'll call ye presently.
Petro. Come Gentlemen, the showre must fall.
Row. Would I had never seen her. [Exeunt.
Bya. Thou hast done bravely wench.
Liv. Pray Heaven it prove so.
Bya. There are the other papers: when they come
Begin you first, and let the rest subscribe
Hard by your side; give 'em as little light
As Drapers do their Wares.
Liv. Didst mark Moroso,
In what an agony he was, and how he cry'd most
When I abus'd him most?
Bya. That was but reason.
Liv. Oh what a stinking thief is this?
Though I was but to counterfeit, he made me
Directly sick indeed. Thames-street to him
Is a meer Pomander.
Bya. Let him be hang'd.
Liv. Amen.
Bya. And lie you still;
And once more to your business.
Liv. Call 'em in.
Now if there be a power that pities Lovers,
Help now, and hear my prayers.
Enter Petronius, Rowland, Tranio, Moroso.
Petro. Is she ready?
Bya. She has done her lamentations: pray go to her.
Liv. Rowland, come near me, and before you seal,
Give me your hand: take it again; now kiss me.
This is the last acquaintance we must have;
I wish you ever happy: there's the paper.
Row. Pray stay a little.
Petro. Let me never live more
But I do begin to pity this young fellow;
How heartily he weeps!
Bya. There's Pen and Ink, Sir.
Liv. Ev'n here I pray you. 'Tis a little Emblem
How near you have been to me.
Row. There.
Bya. Your hands too,
As witnesses.
Petro. By any means
To th' Book son.
Mor. With all my heart.
Bya. You must deliver it.
Row. There Livia, and a better love light on thee,
I can no more.
Bya. To this you must be witness too.
Petro. We will.
Bya. Do you deliver it now.
Liv. Pray set me up;
There Rowland, all thy old love back: and may
A new to come exceed mine, and be happy.
I must no more.
Row. Farewel:
Liv. A long farewel. [Exit Row.
Bya. Leave her by any means, till this wild passion
Be off her head: draw all the Curtains close,
A day hence you may see her, 'twill be better,
She is now for little company.
Petro. Pray tend her.
I must to horse straight, you must needs along too,
To see my son aboard: were but his wife
As fit for pity, as this wench, I were happy.
Bya. Time must do that too: fare ye well: to morrow
You shall receive a wife to quit your sorrow. [Exeunt.
Enter Jaques, Pedro, and Porters, with Chest and Hampers.
Jaq. Bring 'em away Sirs.
Ped. Must the great Trunks go too?
Jaq. Yes, and the Hampers; nay, be speedy Masters;
He'll be at Sea before us else.
Ped. Oh Jaques,
What a most blessed turn hast thou!
Jaq. I hope so.
Ped. To have the Sea between thee and this woman,
Nothing can drown her tongue but a storm.
Jaq. By your leave,
We'll get us up to Paris with all speed;
For on my soul, as far as Amiens
She'll carry blank, away to Lyon-key
And ship 'em presently, we'll follow ye.
Ped. Now could I wish her in that Trunk:
Jaq. God shield man,
I had rather have a Bear in't.
Ped.Yes, I'll tell ye:
For in the passage, if a Tempest take ye,
As many doe, and you lie beating for it,
Then, if it pleas'd the fates, I would have the Master,
Out of a powerful providence, to cry,
Lighten the ship of all hands, or we perish;
Then this for one, as best spar'd, should by all means,
Over-board presently.
Jaq. O' that condition,
So we were certain to be rid of her,
I would wish her with us, but believe me Pedro,
She would spoil the fishing on this coast for ever.
For none would keep her company but Dog-fish,
As currish as her self; or Porpisces,
Made to all fatal uses: The two Fish-streets
Were she but once arriv'd amongst the Whitings,
Would sing a woful misereri Pedro,
And mourn in Poor John, till her memory
Were cast o' shore agen, with a strong Sea-breach:
She would make god Neptune, and his Fire-fork,
And all his demi-gods, and goddesses,
As weary of the Flemmish Channel, Pedro,
As ever boy was of the School, 'tis certain,
If she but meet him fair, and were well angred,
She would break his god-head.
Ped. Oh her tongue, her tongue.
Jaq. Rather her many tongues.
Ped. Or rather strange tongues.
Jaq. Her lying tongue.
Ped. Her lisping tongue.
Jaq. Her long tongue.
Ped. Her lawless tongue.
Jaq. Her loud tongue.
Ped. And her liquorish—
Jaq. Many other tongues, and many stranger tongues
Than ever Babel had to tell his ruines,
Were Women rais'd withal; but never a true one.
Enter Sophocles.
Soph. Home with your stuff agen, the journey's ended.
Jaq. What does your worship mean?
Soph. Your Master, Oh Petruchio, oh poor fellows.
Ped. Oh Jaques, Jaques.
Soph. Oh your Master's dead,
His body coming back, his wife, his devil;
The grief of —— her.
Jaq. Has kill'd him?
Soph. Kill'd him, kill'd him.
Ped. Is there no Law to hang her.
Soph. Get ye in,
And let her know her misery, I dare not
For fear impatience seize me, see her more,
I must away agen: Bid her for wife-hood,
For honesty, if she have any in her,
Even to avoid the shame that follows her.
Cry if she can, your weeping cannot mend it.
The body will be here within this hour, so tell her;
And all his friends to curse her. Farewel fellows. [Exit Soph.
Ped. Oh Jaques, Jaques.
Jaq. Oh my worthy Master.
Ped. Oh my most beastly Mistriss, hang her.
Jaq. Split her.
Ped. Drown her directly.
Jaq. Starve her.
Ped. Stink upon her.
Jaq. Stone her to death: may all she eat be Eggs.
Till she run kicking mad for men.
Ped. And he,
That man, that gives her remedy, pray Heav'n
He may ev'n ipso facto, lose his [longings.]
Jaq. Let's go discharge our selves, and he that serves her,
Or speaks a good word of her from this hour,
A Sedgly curse light on him, which is, Pedro;
The Fiend ride through him booted, and spurr'd, with a Sythe at's back. [Exeunt.
Enter Rowland, and Tranio stealing behind him.
Row. What a dull ass was I to let her go thus!
Upon my life she loves me still: well Paper,
Thou only monument of what I have had,
Thou all the love now left me, and now lost,
Let me yet kiss her hand, yet take my leave
Of what I must leave ever: Farewel Livia.
Oh bitter words, I'll read ye once again,
And then for ever study to forget ye.
How's this? let me look better on't: A Contract?
—A Contract, seal'd, and ratified,
Her Fathers hand set to it, and Moroso's:
I do not dream sure, let me read again,
The same still, 'tis a Contract.
Tra. 'Tis so Rowland;
And by the virtue of the same, you pay me
An hundred pound to morrow.
Row. Art sure Tranio,
We are both alive now?
Tra. Wonder not, ye have lost.
Row. If this be true, I grant it.
Tra. 'Tis most certain,
There's a Ring for you too, you know it.
Row. Yes.
Tra. When shall I have my money?
Row. Stay ye, stay ye,
When shall I marry her?
Tra. To night.
Row. Take heed now
You do not trifle me; if you do,
You'll find more payment, than your money comes to:
Come swear; I know I am a man, and find
I may deceive my self: swear faithfully,
Swear me directly, am I Rowland?
Tra. Yes.
Row. Am I awake?
Tra. Ye are.
Row. Am I in health?
Tra. As far as I conceive.
Row. Was I with Livia?
Tra. You were, and had this Contract.
Row. And shall I enjoy her?
Tra. Yes, if ye dare.
Row. Swear to all these.
Tra. I will.
Row. As thou art honest, as them hast a conscience,
As that may wring thee if thou liest; all these
To be no vision, but a truth, and serious.
Tra. Then by my honesty, and faith, and conscience;
All this is certain.
Row. Let's remove our places.
Swear it again.
Tra. By —— 'tis true.
Row. I have lost then, and Heaven knows I am glad on't.
Let's goe, and tell me all, and tell me how,
For yet I am a Pagan in it.
Tra. I have a Priest too,
And all shall come as even as two Testers. [Exeunt.
Enter Petronius, Sophocles, Moroso, and Petruchio born in a Coffin.
Petro. Set down the body, and one call her out.
Enter Maria in black, and Jaques.
You are welcome to the last cast of your fortunes;
There lies your Husband; there, your loving Husband,
There he that was Petruchio, too good for ye;
Your stubborn and unworthy way has kill'd him
E'er he could reach the Sea; if ye can weep,
Now ye have cause begin, and after death
Doe something yet to th' world, to think ye honest.
So many tears had say'd him, shed in time;
And as they are (so a good mind go with 'em)
Yet they may move compassion.
Mar. Pray ye all hear me,
And judge me as I am, not as you covet,
For that would make me yet more miserable:
'Tis true, I have cause to grieve, and mighty cause;
And truly and unfeinedly I weep it.
Soph. I see there's some good nature yet left in her.
Mar. But what's the cause? mistake me not, not this man,
As he is dead, I weep for; Heaven defend it,
I never was so childish: but his life,
His poor unmanly, wretched, foolish life,
Is that my full eyes pity, there's my mourning.
Petro. Dost thou not shame?
Mar. I doe, and even to water,
To think what this man was, to think how simple,
How far below a man, how far from reason,
From common understanding, and all Gentry,
While he was living here he walk'd amongst us.
He had a happy turn he dyed; I'll tell ye,
These are the wants I weep for, not his person:
The memory of this man, had he liv'd
But two years longer, had begot more follies,
Than wealthy Autumn Flies. But let him rest,
He was a fool, and farewel he; not pitied,
I mean in way of life, or action
By any understanding man that's honest;
But only in's posterity, which I,
Out of the fear his ruines might out-live him,
In some bad issue, like a careful woman,
Like one indeed, born only to preserve him,
Deny'd him means to raise.
Petru. Unbutton me,
—I die indeed else! Oh Maria,
Oh my unhappiness, my misery.
Petro. Goe to him whore; —— if he perish,
I'll see thee hang'd my self.
Petru. Why, why Maria?
Mar. I have done my worst, and have my end, forgive me;
From this hour make me what you please: I have tam'd ye,
And now am vow'd your servant: Look not strangely,
Nor fear what I say to you. Dare you kiss me?
Thus I begin my new love.
Petru. Once again?
Mar. With all my heart.
Petru. Once again Maria,
Oh Gentlemen, I know not where I am.
Soph. Get ye to bed then: there you'll quickly know Sir.
Petru. Never no more your old tricks?
Mar. Never Sir.
Petru. You shall not need, for as I have a faith
No cause shall give occasion.
Mar. As I am honest,
And as I am a maid yet, all my life
From this hour, since ye make so free profession,
I dedicate in service to your pleasure.
Soph. I marry, this goes roundly off.
Petru. Goe Jaques,
Get all the best meat may be bought for money,
And let the hogsheads blood, I am born again:
Well little England, when I see a Husband
Of any other Nation, stern or jealous,
I'll wish him but a woman of thy breeding;
And if he have not butter to his bread,
Till his teeth bleed, I'll never trust my travel.
Enter Rowland, Livia, Byancha, and Tranio.
Petro. What have we here?
Row. Another Morris, Sir.
That you must pipe too.
Tra. A poor married couple
Desire an offering, Sir.
Bya. Never frown at it,
You cannot mend it now: there's your own hand;
And yours Moroso, to confirm the bargain.
Petron. My hand?
Mor. Or mine?
Bya. You'll find it so.
Petro. A trick,
By —— a trick.
Bya. Yes Sir, we trickt ye.
Liv. Father.
P[e]tro. Hast thou lain with him? speak!
Liv. Yes truly Sir.
Petro. And hast thou done the deed, boy?
Row. I have [done], Sir,
That, that will serve the turn, I think.
Petru. A match then,
I'll be the maker up of this: Moroso,
There's now no remedy you see, be willing;
[F]or be, or be not, he must have the wench.
Mor. Since I am over-reach'd, let's in to dinner,
And if I can, I'll drink't away.
Tra. That's well said.
Petro. Well sirrah, you have plaid a trick, look to't,
And let me be a Grandsire within's twelve-month,
Or by this hand, I'll curtail half your fortunes.
Row. There shall not want my labour, Sir: your money;
Here's one has undertaken.
Tra. Well, I'll trust her,
And glad I have so good a pawn.
Row. I'll watch ye.
Petru. Let's in, and drink of all hands, and be jovial:
I have my Colt again, and now she carries;
And Gentlemen, whoever marries next,
Let him be sure he keep him to his Text. [Exeunt.