THE PLEASANT comedy OF Patient Grissel.  
As it hath been sundry times lately played by the right honourable the Earl of Nottingham (Lord high Admiral) his servants.  
LONDON. Imprinted for Henry Rocket, and are to be sold at the long Shop under S. Mildred's Church in the Poultry. 1603.   

The pleasant Comedy of Patient Grissel.  Enter the marquis, Pavia, Mario, Lepido, and huntsmen: all like Hunters. A noise of horns within. marquess. 
Look you so strange my hearts, to see our limbs  
Thus suited in a Hunter's livery?  
Oh 'tis a lovely habit, when green youth  
Like to the flowery blossom of the spring,  
Conforms his outward habit to his mind,  
Look how yond one-eyed wagoner of heaven,  
Hath by his horses fiery winged hooves,  
Burst open the melancholy jail of Night,  
And with his gilt beams cunning Alchemy,  
Turned all these clouds to gold, who (with the winds)  
Upon their misty shoulders bring in day:  
Then sally not this morning with foul looks,  
But teach your jocund spirits to ply the Chase,  
For hunting is a sport for Emperors.  Pau. 
We know it is, and therefore do not throw  
On these your pastimes, a contracted brow,  
How swift youth's Bias runs to catch delights,  
To me is not unknown: no brother Gualther,  
When you were wooed by us to choose a wife,  
This day you vowed to wed: but now I see,  
Your promises turn all to mockery.  Lepi. 
This day yourself appointed to give answer  
To all those neighbour-Princes, who in love  
Offer their Daughters, Sisters and Allies,  
In marriage to your hand: yet for all this  
The hour being come that calls you to your choice  
You stand prepared for sport and start aside:  
To hunt poor deer when you should seek a Bride.  Marq. 
Nay come Mario your opinion too,  
he'd need of ten men's wit that goes to woe.  Ma. 
First satisfy these Princes, who expect  
Your gracious answer to their embassies,  
Then may you freely revel: now you fly  
Both from your own vows, & their amity.  Marq. 
How much your judgements err: who gets a wife  
Must like a huntsman beat untrodden paths,  
To gain the flying presence of his love.  
Look how the yelping beagles spend their mouths  
So Lovers do their sighs: and as the dear,  
Outstrips the active hound, & oft turns back  
To note the angry visage of her foe,  
Who greedy to possess so sweet a prey,  
Never gives over till he cease on her,  
So fares it with coy dames, who great with scorn  
Show the care-pined hearts, that sue to them  
Yet on that feigned slight, (Love conquering them)  
They cast an eye of longing back again,  
As who would say, be not dismayed with frowns,  
For though our tongues speak no: our hearts sound  
Or if not so, before they'll miss their lovers,  
Their sweet breathes shall perfume the Amorous air yea,  
And brave them still to run in beauty's Chase:  
Then can you blame me to be hunter like,  
When I must get a wife: but be content,  
So you'll engage your faith by oath to us,  
Your wills shall answer mine, my liking yours,  
And that no wrinkle on your cheeks shall ride.  
This day the marquis vows to choose a bride.  Pa. 
even by my honour,  Marq. 
Brother be advised,  
The importunity of you and these,  
Thrusts my free thoughts into the yoke of love,  
To groan under the load of marriage,  
Since then you throw this burden on my youth  
Swear to me whosoever my fancy choose,  
Of what descent, beauty or birth she be,  
Her you shall like and love as you love me.  Pa. 
Now by my birth I swear, wed whom you please,  
And I'll embrace her with a brother's arm.  Lepi. 
Mario and myself to your fair choice,  
Shall yield all duties and true reverence.  Marq. 
Your protestations please me jollily,  
Let's ring a hunter's peal, and in the ears  
Of our swift forest, Citizens proclaim,  
Defiance to their lightness: our sports done,  
The Venison that we kill shall feast our bride,  
If she prove bad, i'll cast all blame on you,  
But if sweet peace succeed this amorous strife,  
I'll say my wit was best to choose a wife. Exeunt,  As they go in, horns sound & hollowing within: that done, Enter janicolo, Grissil, and Babulo, with two baskets begun to be wrought. Bab. 
Old Master here's a morning able to make us work tooth and nail (marry than we must have victuals) the Sun hath played boe peep in the element any time these two hours, as I do some mornings when you call: what Babulo say you: here Master say I and then this eye opens, yet done is the mouse, lies still: what Babulo says Grissel, anon say I, and then this eye looks up, yet down I snug again: what Babulo say you again, and then I start up, and see the Sun, and then sneeze, and then shake mine ears, and then rise, and then get my breakfast, and then fall to work, and then wash my hands, and by this time I am ready: here's your basket, and Grissel I here's yours.  Ian. 
Fetch thine own Babulo let's ply our business.  Bab. 
God send me good luck Master.  Gri. 
Why Babulo, what's the matter?  Bab. 
God forgive me, I think I shall not eat a peck of salt: I shall not live long sure, I should be a rich man by right, for they never do good deeds, but when they see they must die, and I have now a monstrous stomach to work, because I think I shall not live long.  Ian. 
Go fool, cease this vain talk and fall to work.  Bab. 
I'll hamper somebody if I die, because I am a basket maker. Exit.  Ian. 
Come Grissel, work sweet girl, here the warm Sun will shine on us,  
And when his fires begin,  
we'll cool our sweating brows in yonder shade.  Gri. 
Father, methinks it doth not fit a maid,  
By sitting thus in view, to draw men's eyes  
To stare upon her: might it please your age,  
I could be more content to work within.  Ian. 
Indeed my child, men's eyes do now adays,  
Quickly take fire at the least spark of beauty,  
And if those flames be quenched by chaste disdain,  
Than their envenomed tongues (alack) do strike,  
To wound her fame whose beauty they did like.  Gri. 
I will avoid their darts and work within.  Ian. 
Thou needst not, in a painted coat goes sin,  
And loves those that love pride; none looks on thee,  
Then keep me company: how much unlike  
Are thy desires to many of thy sex?  
How many wantons in Salivia,  
Frown like the sullen night, when their fair faces  
Are hid within doors: but got once abroad,  
Like the proud Sun they spread their staring beams,  
They shine out to be seen, their loose eyes tell,  
That in their bosoms wantonness do dwell:  
Thou canst not do so Grissel, for thy Sun,  
Is but a Star, thy Star, a spark of fire,  
Which hath no power t'inflame doting desire:  
Thy silks are threadbare russets: all thy portion  
Is but an honest name: that gone thou art dead,  
Though dead thou liv'st, that being unblemished.  Gris. 
If to die free from shame be near to die,  
Then I'll be crowned with immortality.  Ian. 
Pray God thou mayst: yet child my jealous soul  
Trembles through fears, so often as mine eyes  
Sees our Duke court thee: and when to thine ears  
He tunes sweet love-songs: oh beware my Grissel  
He can prepare his way with gifts of gold,  
Upon his breath, winged Promotion flies  
Oh my dear Girl trust not his sorceries,  
Did he not seek the shipwreck of thy fame?  
Why should he send his tailors to take measure  
Of Grissel's body: but as one should say,  
If thou wilt be the marquis concubine,  
Thou shalt wear rich attires: but they that think,  
With costly garments, sins black face to hide,  
Wear naked bravery and ragged pride.  Gris. 
Good father do not shake your age with fears  
Although the marquis sometimes visit us,  
Yet all his words and deeds are like his birth,  
Steeped in true honour: but admit they were not,  
Before my soul look black with speckled sin,  
My hands shall make me pale deaths underling,  Ian. 
The music of those words sweeten mine ears  
Come girl let's faster work: time apace wears.  Enter Babulo with his work. Gris. 
Come Babulo why hast thou stayed so long?  Ba. 
Nay why are you so short, Masters here's money I took (since I went) for a cradle: this year I think be leap year, for women do nothing but buy cradles, by my troth I think the world is at an end, for as soon as we be borne we marry: as soon as we marry we get children, (by hook or by crook gotten they are) children must have cradles, and as soon as they are in them, they hop out of them, for I have seen little girls that yesterday had scarce a hand to make them ready, the next day had worn wedding rings on their fingers, so that if the world do not end, we shall not live one by another: basket making as all other trades runs to decay, and shortly we shall not be worth a button, for none in this cutting age sow true stitches, but tailors and shoemakers, & yet now and then they tread their shoes a wry too.  Ia. 
Let not thy tongue go so: sit down to work  
And that our labour may not seem too long,  
we'll cunningly beguile it with a song.  Ba. 
Do master for that's honest cousinage.  The Song. 

Song Art thou poor yet hast thou golden Slumbers:  
Oh sweet content!  
Art thou rich yet is thy mind perplexed?  
Oh punishment.  
Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed?  
To add to golden numbers, golden numbers.  
O sweet content, of sweet etc.  
Foot Work apace, apace, apace, apace:  
Honest labour bears a lovely face,  
Then heigh nonny, nonny: heigh nonny, nonny.   

Canst drink the waters of the Crisped spring,  
O sweet content!  
Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears,  
O punishment.  
Then he that patiently wants, burden bears,  
No burden bears, but is a King, a King,  
O sweet content, etc.  
Foot. Work apace, apace, etc.   Enter Laureo. Ba. 
Weep master, yonder comes your Son  Ian. 
Laureo my Son? oh heaven let thy rich hand  
Pour plenteous showers of blessing on his head.  Lau. 
Treble the number fall upon your age,  
Sister?  Gri. 
Dear brother Laureo welcome home.  Ba. 
Master Laureo) (anicula's son) welcome home, how do the nine muses, Pride, covetousness, envy, sloth, wrath, gluttony and lechery? you that are Scholars read how they do.  Lau. 
Muses: these (fool) are the seven deadly sins.  Ba. 
Are they: Mass methinks it's better serving than, than your nine muses, for they are stark beggars.  Ian. 
Often I have wished to see you here,  Lau. 
It grieves me that you see me here so soon.  Ian. 
Why Laureo dost thou grieve to see thy father,  
Or dost thou scorn me for my poverty.  Ba. 
He needs not, for he looks like poor john himself, eight to a neck of mutton, is not that your commons, & a Cue of bread?  Lau. 
Father I grieve my young years to your age,  
Should add more sorrow.  Ian. 
Why son what's the matter?  Lau. 
That which to think on makes me desperate.  
I that have charged my friends, and from my father  
Pulled more than he could spare, I that have lived,  
These nine years at the University,  
Must now for this world's devil: this angel of gold,  
Have all those days and nights to beggary sold,  
Through want of money, what I want I miss,  
Who is more scorned than a poor: scholar is?  Bab. 
Yes three things: Age, wisdom, & basket makers  Gri. 
Brothers what means these words?  Lau. 
Oh, I am mad.  
To think how much a Scholar undergoes,  
And in th'end reaps nought but penury.  
Father I am enforced to leave my book,  
Because the study of my book doth leave me,  
In the lean arms of lank necessity.  
Having no shelter (ah me) but to fly  
Into the sanctuary of your aged arms.  Bab. 
A trade, a trade, follow basket-making, leave books and turn block head.  Ian. 
Peace fool, welcome my son, though I am poor  
My love shall not be so: go daughter Grissel,  
Fetch water from the spring to seeth our fish,  
Which yesterday I caught: the cheer is mean,  
But be content, when I have sold these Baskets,  
The money shall be spent to bid thee welcome:  
Grissel make haste, run and kindle fire. Exit Grissill.  Ba. 
Go Grissel I'll make fire, and scour the kettle, it's a hard world when scholars ease fish upon flesh days  Lau. 
be't not a shame for me that am a man, Exit. Ba.  
Nay more, a scholar to endure such need,  
That I must pray on him, whom I should feed?  Ian. 
Nay grieve not Son, better have felt worse woe  
Come sit by me while I work to get bread,  
And Grissel spin us yearn to clothe our backs.  
Thou shalt read doctrine to us for the soul,  
Then what shall we there want, nothing my son  
For when we cease from work even in that while,  
My song shall charm griefs ears and care beguile.  Enter Grissill running with a Pitcher. Gris 
Father as I was running to fetch water,  
I saw the marquis with a gallant train  
Come riding towards us, O see where they come.  Enter marquess, Pavia, Mario, Lepido, two Ladies and some other attendants. Mar. 
See where my Grissel, and her father is,  
methinks for beauty shining through those weeds,  
Seems like a bright star in the sullen night.  
How lovely poverty dwells on her back,  
Did but the proud world note her as I do,  
She would cast off rich robes, forswear rich state,  
To clothe them in such poor habiliments,  
Father good fortune ever bless thine age.  Ian. 
All happiness attend my gracious Lord.  Marq. 
And what wish you fair Maid?  Gris. 
That your high thoughts.  
To your contentment may be satisfied.  Mar, 
Thou wouldst wish so, knewst thou for what I come  
Brother of Pavia behold this virgin,  
Mario Lepido is she not fair?  Pa. 
Brother I have not seen so mean a creature,  
So full of beauty.  Mar. 
Were but Grissel's birth,  
As worthy as her form, she might be held  
A fit companion for the greatest state.  Lau. 
Oh blindness, so that men may beauty find,  
They near respect the beauties of the mind,  Mar. 
Father Ianicola what's he that speaks  Ian. 
A poor despised scholar and my Son.  Mar. 
This is no time to hold dispute with scholars  
Tell me in faith old man what dost thou think,  
Because the marquis visits thee so oft?  Ian. 
The will of PRINCE's subjects must not search,  
Let it suffice, your grace is welcome hither.  Marq. 
And i'll requite that welcome if I live,  
Grissel suppose a man should love you dearly,  
As I know some that do, would you agree  
To quittance true affection with the like.  Gri. 
None is so fond to fancy poverty.  Mar. 
I say there is: come Lords stand by my side,  
Nay brother you are sped and have a wife,  
Then give us leave that are all Bachelors,  
Now Grissel, eye us well and give your verdict,  
Which of us three you hold the properest man,  Gri. 
I have no skill to judge proportions.  Marq. 
Nay then you jest, women have eagles eyes,  
To pry even to the heart, and why not you?  
Come, we stand fairly, freely speak your mind,  
For by my birth, he whom thy choice shall bless,  
Shall be thy husband.  Mar. 
What intends your graft?  Lepi. 
My Lord I have vowed to lead a single life,  Marq. 
A single life? this cunning cannot serve,  
Do not I know you love her I have heard?  
Your passions spent for her your sighs for her,  
Mario to the wonder of her beauty,  
Compiled a Sonnet.  Mar. 
I my Lord write sonnets?  Marq. 
You did entreat me to entreat her father,  
That you might have his daughter to his wife.  Lep. 
To any one I willingly resign,  
All interest in her, which doth look like mine,  Mar. 
My Lord I swear she near shall be my bride,  
I hope she'll swear so too being thus denied,  Marq. 
Both of you turned Apostates in love,  
Nay then I'll play the crier: once, twice, thrice,  
Speak or she's gone else: no since 'twill not be,  
Since you are not for her, yet she's for me.  Pau. 
What mean you Brother?  Marq. 
Faith no more but this:  
By loves most wondrous Metamorphosis,  
To turn this Maid into your Brother's wife,  
Nay sweet heart look not strange I do not jest,  
But to thine ears mine Amorous thoughts impart,  
Gualter protests he loves thee with his heart,  Lau. 
The admiration of such happiness,  
Makes me astonished.  Gris. 
Oh my gracious Lord,  
Humble not your high state to my low birth,  
Whom not worthy to be held your slave,  
Much less your wife.  Marq. 
Grissel that shall suffice,  
I count thee worthy: old janicola,  
Art thou content that I shall be thy Son?  Ian. 
I am unworthy of so great a good.  Marq. 
Tush tush talk not of worth, in honest terms  
Tell me if I shall have her? for by heaven  
Unless your free consent allow my choice,  
To win ten kingdoms I'll not call her mine.  
What's thy Sons name?  Ian. 
Laureo My gracious Lord.  Marq. 
I'll have both your consents: I tell ye Lords,  
I have wooed the virgin long, oh many an hour,  
Have I been glad to steal from all your eyes,  
To come disguised to her: I swear to you,  
Beauty first made me love, and virtue woe,  
I loved her lowliness, but when I tried  
What virtues were intempled in her breast,  
My chaste heart swore that she should be my bride  
Say Father, must I be forsworn or no?  Ian. 
What to my Lord seems best to me seems so  Marq. 
Laureo what's your opinion?  Lau. 
Thus my Lord.  
If equal thoughts durst both your states confer,  
Her's is too low, and you too high for her,  Marq. 
What says fair Grissel now?  Gris. 
This doth she say,  
As her old Father yields to your dread will,  
So she her father's pleasure must fulfil.  
If old janicola make Grissel yours,  
Grissel must not deny, yet had she rather,  
Be the poor Daughter still of her poor Father.  Marq. 
I'll gild that poverty and make it shine,  
With beams of dignity: this base attire,  
These Ladies shall tear of, and deck thy beauty  
In robes of honour, that the world may say,  
Virtue and beauty was my bride today.  Mar. 
This mean choice, will distain your nobleness  Marq. 
No more Mario than it doth disgrace  
The Sun to shine on me.  Lep. 
she's poor and base.  Marq. 
she's rich: for virtue beautifies her face.  Pau. 
What will the world say when the trump of fame  
Shall sound your high birth with a beggars name?  Marq. 
The world still looks asquint, & I deride  
His purblind judgement; Grissel is my Bride,  
janicola, and Laureo: father, brother,  
You and your Son graced with our royal favour,  
Shall live to outwear time in happiness.  Enter Babulo. Ba. 
Master I have made a good fire: sirrah Grissel, the fish  Ian. 
Fall on thy knees thou fool: see here's our duke  Ba. 
I have not offended him, therefore I'll not duck and he were ten Dukes.  

I'll kneel to none but God and my Prince.   Lau. 
This is thy Prince, be silent Babulo,  Bab. 
Silence is a virtue, marry 'tis a dumb virtue: I love virtue that speaks, and has a long tongue like a bell-wether, to lead other virtues after: if he be a Prince, I hope he is not Prince over my tongue, snails, wherefore come all these: Master here's not fish enough for us, Sirrah Grissel the fire burns out.  Marq. 
Tell me my love what pleasant fellow is this?  Gris. 
My aged Father's servant my gracious Lord.  Bab. 
How, my love: master a word to the wise, scillicet me my love.  Marq. 
What's his name,  Bab. 
Babulo Sir is my name.  Marq. 
Why dost thou tremble so? we are all thy friends  Bab. 
Its hard sir for this motley jerkin, to find friendship with this fine doublet.  Marq. 
janicola bring him to Court with thee.  Bab. 
You may be ashamed to lay such knavish burden upon old ages shoulders: but I see they are stooping a little, all cry down with him: He shall not bring me sir, i'll carry myself.  Marq. 
I pray thee do, I'll have thee live at court,  Ba. 
I have a better trade sir, basket-making,  Marq. 
Grissel I like thy man's simplicity,  
Still shall he be thy servant Babulo,  
Grissel thy mistress, now shall be my wife  Bab 
I think sir I am a fitter husband for her.  Marq. 
Why shouldst thou think, I will make her rich  Bab. 
That's all one sir, beggars are fit for beggars, gentlefolks for gentlefolks: I am afraid that this wonder of the rich loving the poor, will last but mine days: old M bid this merry gentleman home to dinner, you shall have a good dish of fish sir: & thank him for his good will to your daughter Gris. for i'll be hanged if he do not (as many rich cogging merchants) now adays do when they have got what they would, give her the bells, let her fly.  Gri. 
Oh bear my Lord with his intemperate tongue  Marq. 
Grissel I take delight to bear him talk.  Bab. 
ay, ay, youare best take me up for your foul: are not you he, that came speaking so? to Grissel here, do you remember how I knocked you once for offering to have a lick at her lips.  Marq. 
I do remember it and for thy pains,  
A golden recompense i'll give to thee.  Bab. 
Why do, and i'll knock you as often as you list.  Marq. 
Grissel this merry fellow shall be mine,  
But we forget ourselves, the day grows old.  
Come Lords cheer up your looks & with fair smiles,  
Grace our intended nuptials: time may come,  
When all commanding love your hearts subdue,  
The marquis may perform as much for you. Exeunt.  Enter Farneze, Urcenze, and Rice meeting them running. Far. 
Rice how now man? whether art u galloping?  Ric. 
Faith even to find a full manger: my teeth water till I be munching, I have been at the Cutlers, to bid him bring away Sir Owen's rapier, and I am ambling home thus fast, for fear I am driven to fast.  Vrc. 
But Sirrah Rice, when's the day? will not thy master Sir Owen and signor Emulo fight?  Ric. 
No, for signor Emulo has warned my Master to the court of Conscience, and there's an order set down, that the coward shall pay my Master good words weekly, till the debt of his choler be run out.  Far. 
Excellent, but did not Emulo write a challenge to Sir Owen.  Rice. 
No he sent a terrible one, but he gave a sexton of a church a groat to write it, and he set his mark to it, for the gull can neither write nor read.  Ric. 
Ha ha, not write and read? why I have seen him pull out a bundle of sonnets written, & read them to Ladies.  Far. 
He got them by heart Urcenze, & so deceived the poor souls: as a gallant whom I know, cozens others: for my brisk spangled baby will come into a stationer's shop, call for a stool and a cushion, and then asking for some greek Poet, to him he falls, and there he grumbles God knows what, but I'll be sworn he knows not so much as one Character of the tongue.  Ric. 
Why then it's greek to him.  Far. 
Ha, ha, Emulo not write and read?  Ric. 
Not a letter and you would hang him.  Vrc. 
Then he'll never be saved by his book.  Ric. 
No nor by his good works, for he'll do none. Signiors both, I commend you to the skies, I commit you to God, adieu.  Far. 
Nay sweet Rice a little more,  Ric. 
A little more will make me a great deal less, house keeping you know is out of fashion: unless I ride post, I kiss the post: in a word i'll tell you all, challenge was sent, answered no fight, no kill, all friends, all fools, Emulo coward, Sir Owen brave man, farewell, dinner, hungry: little cheer, great great stomach, meat meat, meat, mouth, mouth, mouth, adieu, adieu, adieu. Exit.  Vrc. 
Ha, ha, adieu Rice, Sir Owen belike keeps a lean Kitchen.  Far. 
What else man, that's one of the miserable vows he makes when he's dubbed: yet he doth but as many of his brother knights do, keep an ordinary table for him and his long coat follower.  Vrc. 
That long coat makes the master a little king, for wheresoever his piece of a follower comes hopping after him, he's sure of a double guard.  Far. 
I'll set some of the Pages upon thy skirts for this  Vrc. 
I shall feel them no more than so many fleas, therefore I care not: but Farneze you'll prove a most accomplished coxcomb.  Far. 
Oh old touch lad, this younker is right Trinidado pure leaf Tobacco, for indeed he's nothing purffe, reek, and would be tried (not by God and his country) but by fire, the very soul of his substance and needs would convert into smoke.  Vrc. 
he's Steel to the back you see, for he writes Challenges.  Far. 
True, and Iron to the head, oh there's a rich leaden mineral amongst his brains, if his skull were well digged, Sirrah Urcenze, this is one of those changeable Silk gallants, who in a very scurvy pride, scorn all scholars, and read no books but a looking glass, and speak no language but sweet Lady, and sweet signor and chew between their teeth terrible words, as though they would conjure, as complement and Projects, and Fastidious, & Capricious, and Misprision, and the Sintheresis, of the soul, and such like raise velvet terms.  Vrc. 
What be the accoutrements now of these gallants?  Far. 
Indeed that's one of their fustian outlandish phrases to, marry sir their accoutrements, are all the fantastic fashions, that can be taken up, either upon trust or at second hand.  Vrc. 
What's their qualities?  Far. 
None good, these are the best: to make good faces: to take Tobacco well, to spit well, to laugh like a waiting gentlewoman, to lie well, to blush for nothing, to look big upon little fellows, to scoff with a grace, though they have a very filthy grace in scoffing, and for a need to ride pretty and well.  Vrc. 
They cannot choose but ride well, because every good wit rides them.  Far. 
here's the difference, that they ride upon horses, and when they are ridden they are spurred for asses, so they can cry wehee and hollow kicking jade, they care not if they have no more learning than a jade.  Enter Emuloes Sir Owen talking, Rice after them eating secretly. Vrc. 
No more of these jadith tricks: here comes the hobby horse.  Far. 
Oh he would dance a morris rarely if he were hung with bells.  Vrc. 
He would jangle villainously.  Far. 
Peace let's encounter them.  S. O. 
By Cod Sir Emuloes, sir Owen is clad out a cry because is friends with her, for Sir Owen swear, did her not swear Rice?  Ric. 
Yes forsooth. Spit out his meat.  S. Ow. 
By Cod is swear terrible to knog her pad, and fling her spingle legs at plum trees, when her come to fall to her tagger and fencing trigs, yes faith and to breag her shins did her not Rice?  Ric. 
Yes by my troth Sir.  S. Ow. 
By cod's udge me is all true, and to give her a great teal of bloody nose, because Sir Emuloes you shallenge the prittish Knight, Rice you know Sir Owen shentleman first, and secondly knight, what apoxale you Rice, is shaken now?  Ric. 
No sir I have my five senses and am as well as any man.  S. O. 
Well here is hand, now is mighty friends.  Emu. 
Sir Owen  Far. 
Now the gallimaufry of language comes in.  Emu. 
I protest to you, the magnitude of my condolement, hath been elevated the higher to see you and myself, two gentlemen.  S. Ow. 
Nay 'tis well known Sir Owen is good shentleman, is not Rice?  Ric. 
He that shall deny it Sir i'll make him eat his words.  Emu. 
Good friend I am not in the Negative, be not so Capricious, you misprise me, my collocution tendeth to S. Owen's dignifying.  Fra. 
Let's step in, God save you signior Emulo.  Vrc. 
Well encountered S. Owen.  S.O. 
Owe, how do you S. Em. is friends out a cry now but Emuloes take heed, you match no more love trigs to widow Gwenthyan's, by Cod urge me, that do so must knoge her, see you now?  Emu 
Not so tempestuous sweet knight: though to my disconsolation, I will oblivionize my love to the Welsh widow, and do here proclaim my delinquishment, but sweet signor be not too diogenical to me,  Sir O. 
Ha ha is know not what genicalls mean, but Sir Owen will genicall her, and her fag her genicalling Gwenthyan.  Far. 
Nay faith we'll have you sound friends indeed, otherwise you know, signor Emulo, if you should bear all the wrongs, you would be our Athlassed.  Emu. 
Most true.  Sir O. 
By god is out a cry friends, but harg Farneze, Urcenze twag a great teal to Emuloes: Owe. is great teal of friends: ha ha is tell fine admirable shest, by Cod Emuloes, for fear S. Owen, knog her shines, is tell, Sir Owen by dozen shentlemen her pooets is put about with lathes, ha, ha, serge her serge her.  Fa. 
No more tell Urcenze of it: why should you two fall out for the love of a woman, considering what store we have of them? Sir Emulo I gratulate your peace, your company you know is precious to us, and we'll be merry, and ride abroad: before god now I talk of riding, Sir Owen methinks has an excellent boot.  Vrc. 
His leg graces the boot.  S. Ow. 
By God is fine leg and fine poote to: but Emula's leg is better, and finer, and shenglier skin to wear.  Emu. 
I bought them of a penurious Cordwainer, & they are the most incongruent that ere I ware.  S. Own. 
Congruent? 'sploud what leather is congruent, spanish leather?  Emu. 
Ha ha, well Gentlemen I have other projects beckon for me, I must digress from this bias, and leave you: accept I beseech you of this vulgar and domestic complement.  Whilst they are saluting, Sir Owen gets to Emulo's leg and pulls down his Boot. Sir. O. 
Pray Emuloes let her see her congruence leather ha ha, owe what a pox is here: ha, ha, is mag a wall to her shins, for keeb her warm?  Fa. 
What's here lathes? where's the lime & hair Emulo,  Ric. 
Oh rare, is this to save his shins?  S. Ow. 
Ha, ha, Rice go call Gwenthyan,  Ric. 
I will master dahoma, Gwenthyan dahoma?  S. Ow. 
A pogs on her go sedge her and call her within  Ric. 
I am gone sir. Exit Rice.  Fa. 
Nay sir Owen what mean you?  S. Ow. 
By Cod is mean ta let Gwenthyan see what booby fool love her, a pogs on you.  Emu. 
Sir Owen and Signiors both, do not expatiate my obloquy, my love shall be so fast conglutinated to you.  S. Ow. 
cod's plud, you call her gluttons, Gwenthyan, so ho Gwenthyan?  Emu. 
I'll not digest this pill, Signiors adieu.  
You are Fastidious and I banish you. Exit Emulo.  Enter Gwenthyan. Fa. 
God's so, here comes the widow, but in faith Sir Owen say nothing of this.  S Ow. 
No go to them, by Cod Sir Owen bear as praue mind as Emperor.  Gwe. 
Who calls Gwenthyan so great teal of time?  Vrc. 
Sweet widow even your countryman here.  S. Ow. 
Belly the ruddo whee: wrage witho, Mandageny Mou du ac whellock en uvea awh.  Gwe. 
Sir Owen gramarrye whee: Gwenthyan Mandage any, ac wellock en Thawen en run mogh.  Far 
Mundage Thlawen, oh my good widow gabble that we may understand you, and have at you.  S. Ow. 
Have at her: nay by Cod is no have at her to, Is tawge tn her prittish tongue, for 'tis fine delicates tongue, I can tell her. welsh tongue is finer as greek tongue.  Far 
A baked neats tongue is finer than both.  S. Ow, 
But what says Gwenthyan's now? will have Sir Owen, Sir Owen is known for a wisely man, as any since Adam and eves time, and that is by Gods udge me a great teal ago.  Vrc. 
I think Salomon was wiser than Sir Owen.  S. Ow. 
Salomons had pretty wit: but what say you to King Tavie: King Tavie is well known was as good musicians, as the pest fiddler in aul italy, and King Tavie was Sir Owen's countryman, yes truly a prettish shentlemen porne, and did twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, out a cry upon welsh-harp, and 'tis known Tavie love Mistress Persabe, as Sir Owen loves Gwenthyan: will her have Sir Owen now?  Far 
Faith widow take him, Sir owen is a tall man I can tell you.  S. ow. 
Tall man, as God unde me, her think the prittish shentelman, is faliant as Mars that is the fine knaves, the poets say the God of pribles & prables, I hope widow you see little more in Sir owen then in Sir Emuloes, say shall her? have her now, 'tis faliant, as can desire, I warrant her.  Gw. 
Sir owen, Sir owen, 'tis not for faliant, Gwenthyan care so much, but for honest and fertuous, and loving and pundall to lead her have her will.  S. owe. 
God udge me, tage her away to her husband, and is led her have her will owd a cry, yet by God is pridle her well enough.  Gw. 
Well S. owen, Gwenthyan is going to her cozen Gualther the Duke, for you know is her near cousin by marriage, by other husband that pring her from Wales.  ow. 
By Cod Wales is better country than Italy's, a great teal so better.  Gw. 
Now if her cousin Gualther say Gwenthyan tag this pritish knight, shall love her diggon: but must have her good will: mark your thad Sir owen.  ow. 
Owe what's else: Sir owen mark it ferrewel, yet shall tage her down quiglie enough, come widow will wag to the coward, now to her cozen, and bid her cozen tell her mind of Str owen.  Gw. 
You'll man Gwenthyan Sir owen?  ow. 
Yes by Cod and pravely to, come Shentlemans you'll tag pains to go with her?  Far. 
we'll follow you presently Sir owen.  S. ow. 
Come widow: un lod dis Glane Gwenthyan mondu  Gw. 
Gramercy wheeh, Am a Mock honnoh. Exeunt.  Far. 
So this will be rare: Sirrah Urcenze, at the marriage night of these two, instead of Io Hymen, we shall here heigh ho Hymen, their love will be like a great fire made of bay leaves, that yields nothing but cracking noise, noise.  Vrc. 
If she miss his crown 'tis no matter for cracking,  Far. 
So she soader it again, it will pass currant.  Enter Onophrio and julia walking over the Stage. Vrc. 
Peace here comes our fair mistress.  Far. 
Let's have a fling at her.  Vrc. 
So you may, but the hardness is to hit her.  Ono. 
Farewell Farneze you attend well upon your mistress,  Iul. 
Nay, nay, their wages shall be of the same colour that their service is of.  Far. 
Faith mistress would you had traveled a little sooner this way, you should have seen a rare comedy acted by Emulo.  Vrc. 
Every courteous mouth will be a stage for that, rather tell her of the Welsh tragedy that's towards.  Iul. 
What Tragedy?  Far. 
Sir Owen shall marry your cousin Gwenthyan,  Iul. 
be't possible: oh they two will beget brave warriors: for if she scold he'll fight, and if he quarrel she'll take up the bucklers: she's fire and he's brimstone, must not there be hot doings than think you?  On. 
They'll prove Turtles, for their hearts being so like, they cannot choose but be loving.  Iul. 
Turtles: Turkey-cocks, for God's love let's entreat the Duke my brother, to make a law, that wheresoever Sir Owen and his Lady dwell, the next neighbour may always be Constable, lest the peace be broken, for they'll do nothing but cry arm, arm, arm.  Far. 
I think sir Owen would die rather than lose her love  Iul. 
So think not I.  On. 
I should for julia, if I were Julie's husband.  Iul. 
Therefore julia shall not be Onophrio's wife, for I'll have none die for me.  

I like not that colour.   Far. 
Yes for your love you would julia.  Iul. 
No nor yet for my hate Farneze.  Vrc. 
Would you not have men love you sweet mistress?  Iul. 
No not I, fie upon it sweet servant.  On. 
Would you wish men to hate you?  Iul. 
Yes rather then love me, of all saints I love not to serve mistress Venus.  Far. 
Then I perceive you mean to lead apes in hell.  Iul. 
That spiteful proverb was proclaimed against them that are married upon earth, for to be married is to live in a kind of hell.  Far. 
I as they do at barleybreak.  Iul. 
Your wife is your ape, and that heavy burden wedlock, your Jack an ape's clog, therefore i'll not be tied to't: Master Farneze, sweet virginity is that invisible Godhead that turns into Angels, that makes us saints on earth and stars in heaven: here Virgins seem goodly, but there glorious: In heaven is no wooing yet all there are lovely: in heaven are no weddings yet all there are lovers.  On. 
Let us sweet madam turn earth into heaven, by being all lovers here to.  Iul. 
So we do to an earthly heaven we turn it.  On. 
Nay but dear julia, tell us why so much you hate, to enter into the lists of this same combat matrimony?  Iul. 
You may well call that a combat, for indeed marriage is nothing else, but a battle of love, a friendly fighting, a kind of favourable terrible war: but you err Onophrio in thinking I hate it I deal by marriage as some Indians do the Sun, adore it, and reverence it, but dare not stare on it, for fear I be stark blind: you three are bachelors, and being sick of this maidenhead, count all things bitter, which the physic of a single life ministers unto you: you imagine if you could make the arms of fair Ladies the spheres of your hearts, good hearts, than you were in heaven: oh but bachelors take heed, you are no sooner in that heaven, but you strait slip into hell.  Far. 
As long as I have a beautiful Lady to torment me, I care not.  Vrc. 
Nor I the sweetness of her looks shall make me relish any punishment.  On. 
Except the punishment of the horn Urcenze, put that in.  Iul. 
Nay he were best put that by: Lord, Lord, see what unthrifts this love makes us? if he once but get into our mouths, he labours to turn our tongues to clappers, and to ring all in, at Cupid's Church when we were better to bite off our tongues, so we may thrust him out, Cupid is sworn enemy to time, & he that loseth time I can tell you loseth a friend.  Par. 
I a bald friend.  Iu. 
Therefore my good servants if, you wear my livery, cast of this loose upper coat of love: be ashamed to wait upon a boy, a wag, a blind boy, a wanton: My brother the Duke wants our companies, 'tis Idleness and love, makes you captains to this solitariness, follow me & love not, & i'll teach you how to find liberty.  All. 
We obey to follow you, but not to love you, no renounce that obedience. Exeunt  Enter the marquis and Furio. Marq. 
Furio.  Fur. 
My Lord.  Marq. 
Thy faith I oft have tried, thy faith I credits  
For I have found it solid as the rock:  
No babbling echo sits upon thy lips,  
For silence even in speech, doth seal them up,  
Wilt thou be trusty Furio to thy Lord?  Fur. 
I will.  Marq. 
It is enough, those words I will,  
Yields sweeter music than the gilded sounds,  
Which chatting parrots long tongued sycophants,  
Send from the organs of their siren voice,  
Grissel my wife thou seest bear in her womb,  
The joy of marriage: Furio I protest,  
My love to her is as the heat to fire,  
Her love to me as beauty to the Sun,  
(Inseparable adjuncts) in one word,  
So dearly love I Grissel, that my life  
Shall end, when she doth end to be my wife.  Fur. 
'tis well done.  Marq. 
Yet is my bosom burnt up with desires,  
To try my Grissel's patience, I'll put on  
A wrinkled forehead, and turn both mine eyes,  
Into two balls of fire, and clasp my hand  
Like to a mace of Iron, to threaten death.  
But Furio when that hand lifts up to strike,  
It shall fly open to embrace my love,  
Yet Grissel must not know this: all my words,  
Shall smack of wormwood, all my deeds of gall,  
My tongue shall jar, my heart be musical,  
Yet Grissel must not know this?  Enter Grissill. Fur. 
Not for me,  Marq. 
Furio My trial is thy secrecy,  
Yonder she comes: on goes this mask of frowns,  
Tell her I am angry: men men try your wives,  
Love that abides sharp tempests, sweetly thrives.  Fur. 
My Lord is angry.  Gris. 
Angry? the heavens forfend: with whom? for what?  
Is it with me?  Fur. 
Not me.  Gris. 
May I presume,  
To touch the vain of that sad discontent,  
Which swells upon my dear Lords angry brow?  Marq. 
Away away,  Gris. 
Oh chide me not away,  
Your handmaid Grissel with unvexed thoughts,  
And with an unrepining soul, will bear  
The burden of all sorrows, of all woe,  
Before the smallest grief should wound you so.  Marq. 
I am not beholding to your love for this,  
Woman I love thee not, thine eyes to mine  
Are eyes of Basilisks, they murder me.  Gris. 
Suffer me to part hence, I'll tear them out,  
Because they work such treason to my love.  Marq. 
Talk not of love I hate thee more than poison  
That sticks upon the airs infected wings,  
Exhaled up by the hot breath of the Sun,  
'tis for thy sake that speckled infamy,  
Sits like a screech-owl on my honoured breast,  
To make my subjects stare and mock at me,  
They swear they'll never bend their awful knees,  
To the base issue of the beggar womb,  
'tis for thy sake they curse me, rail at me,  
Thinkst thou then I can love thee (oh my soul)  
Why didst thou build this mountain of my shame,  
Why lie my joys buried in Grissel's name?  Gri. 
My gracious Lord.  Marq. 
Call not me gracious Lord,  
See woman here hangs up thine ancestry,  
The monuments of thy nobility,  
This is thy russet gentry, coat, and crest  
Thy earthen honours I will never hide,  
Because this bridle shall pull in thy pride.  Gris. 
Poor Grissel is not proud of these attires,  
They are to me but as you livery,  
And from your humble servant when you please,  
You may take all this outside, which indeed  
Is none of Grissel's, her best wealth is need,  
I'll cast this gayness of, and be content  
To wear this russet bravery of my own,  
For that's more warm than this, I shall look old,  
No sooner in course freeze then cloth of gold.  Marq. 
Spite of my soul she'll triumph over me.  Fur. 
Your glove my Lord,  Marq. 
Cast down my glove again,  
Stoop you for it, for I will have you stoop,  
And kneel even to the meanest groom I keep.  Gris. 
'tis but my duty if you'll have me stoop,  
Even to your meanest groom my Lord i'll stoop.  Marq. 
Furio how slovenly thou goest attired?  Fur. 
Why so my lord?  Marq 
Look here thy shoes are both untied,  
Grissel kneel you and tie them.  Fur. 
Pardon me.  Marq. 
Quickly I charge you,  Gris. 
Friend you do me wrong,  
To let me hold my Lord in wrath so long,  
Stand still I'll kneel and tie them: what I do  
Furio 'tis done to him and not to you. tie them.  Fur. 
'tis so.  Marq. 
Oh strange oh admiral patience,  
I fear when Grissel's bones sleep in her grave,  
The world a second Grissel near will have,  
Now get you in.  Gris. 
I go my gracious Lord. Exit  Marq. 
Didst thou not here her sigh, did not one frown  
Contract her beauteous forehead.  Fur. 
I saw none  Marq. 
Did not one drop fall down from sorrows eyes,  
To blame my heart for these her injuries?  Fur. 
Faith not a drop, I fear she'll frown on me,  
For doing me service?  Marq. 
Furio that i'll try,  
My voice may yet o'ertake her: Grissel, Grissel?  Enter Grissill. Fur. 
She comes at first call.  Gris. 
Did my Lord call?  Marq. 
Woman I called thee not,  
I said this slave was like to Grissel, Grissel,  
And must you therefore come to torture me?  
Nay stay here's a companion fit for you,  
Thou vexest me, so doth this villain to,  
But ere the Sun to his highest throne ascend,  
My indignation in his death shall end.  Gris. 
Oh pardon him my Lord, for mercy's wings  
Bears round about the world the fame of Kings,  
Temper your wrath I beg it on my knee,  
Forgive his fault though you'll not pardon me,  Marq. 
Thank her.  Fu. 
Thanks madam.  Marq. 
I have not true power,  
To wound thee with denial, oh my Grissel,  
How dearly should I love thee,  
Yea die to do thee good, but that my subjects  
Upbraid me with thy birth, and call it base.  
And grieve to see thy Father and thy Brother  
Heaved up to dignities.  Gris. 
Oh cast them down,  
And send poor Grissel poorly home again,  
High Cedars fall, when low shrubs safe remain. Exit  Enter at the same door Mario and Lepido. Mari. 
Fetch me a cup of wine.  Fur. 
she's a saint sure.  Marq. 
Oh Furio now i'll boast that I have found,  
An Angel upon earth: she shallbe crowned  
The empress of all women. Lepido?  
Mario? what was she that passed by you?  Both. 
Your virtuous wife.  Marq. 
Call her not virtuous,  
For I abhor her, did not her swollen eyes  
Look red with hate or scorn? did she not curse  
My name or Furio's name?  Mari. 
No my dear Lord.  Marq. 
For he and I railed at her, spit at her,  
I'll burst her heart with sorrow, for I grieve  
To see you grieve that I have wronged my state,  
By loving one whose baseness now I hate.  Enter Grissill with wine. 
Come faster if you can forbear Mario,  
'tis but her office: what she does to me,  
She Shall perform to any of you three, I'll drink  Lep. 
I am glad to see her pride thus trampled down  Marq. 
Now serve Mario, then serve Lepido:  
And as you bow to me, so bend to them.  Gris. 
I'll not deny't to win a diadem.  Mari. 
Your wisdom I commend that have the power  
To raise or throw down as you smile or lower.  Gris. 
Your patience I commend that can abide,  
To hear a flatterer speak yet never chide.  Marq. 
Hence, hence dare you control them whom I grace  
Come not within my sight.  Gris. 
I will obey,  
And if you please, near more behold the day. Exit.  Marq. 
Furio?  Fur. 
My Lord,  Marq. 
Watch her where she goes,  
And mark how in her looks this trial shows.  Fur. 
I will. Exit.  Marq. 
Mario, Lepido, I loathe this Grissel,  
As sick men loathe the bitterest potion  
Which the physicians hand holds out to them,  
For God's sake frown upon her when she smiles,  
For God's sake smile for joy to see her frown,  
For God's sake scorn her, call her beggars brat,  
Torment her with your looks, your words your deeds,  
My heart shall leap for joy, that her heart bleeds,  
Wilt thou do this Mario?  Mari. 
If you say.  
Mario, do this I must in it obey.  Marq. 
I know you must, so Lepido must you  
'tis well; but counsel me what's best to do,  
How shall I please my subjects? do but speak,  
I'll do it though Grissel's heart in sunder break.  Lepi. 
Your subjects do repine at nothing more,  
Than to behold janicola her Father,  
And her base brother lifted up so high.  Mari. 
To banish them from Court were policy.  Marq. 
Oh rare, oh profound wisdom, dear Marie,  
It forthwith shall be done, they shall not stay,  
Though I may win by them a kingdoms sway, Exit  Lep. 
Mario laugh at this.  Ma. 
Why so I do.  
Headlong I had rather fall to misery.  
Then see a beggar raised to dignity. Exeunt.  Enter Babulo singing with a boy after him. Bab. 
Boy how sits my rapier: la sol la sol. etc.  Boy. 
It hangs as even as a chandler's beam.  Bab. 
Some of them deserve to hang upon a beam for that evenness, boy learn to give every man his due, give the hangman his due, for he's a necessary member.  Boy. 
That's true, for he cuts of many wicked members.  Bab. 
he's an excellent barber, he shaves most cleanly But page how dost thou like the Court?  Boy. 
Prettily and so,  Bab. 
Faith so do I prettily and so: I am weary of being a courtier Boy.  Boy. 
That you cannot be Master, for you are but a courtier's man.  Bab. 
Thou sayst true & thou art the courtier's man's boy, so thou art a courtier in decimo sexto in the least volume, or a courtier at the third hand, or a courtier by reversion, or a courtier three descents removed, or a courtier in minority or an under Courtier or a courtier in posse, and I thy Master in esse:  Boy. 
A posse an esse non este argumentum Master,  Bab. 
Thou hast too much wit to be so little, but imitation, imitation, is his good Lord and Master.  Enter janicola Laureo and Furio. Ian. 
Banished from Count, oh what have we misdone?  Lau. 
What have we done, we must be thus disgraced?  Fu. 
I know not, but you are best pack, 'tis my Lords will, and that's law, I must uncase you: your best course is to fall to your own trades.  Ba. 
Sirrah, what art thou a Broker?  Fu. 
No, how then, I am a Gentleman.  Ba, 
thouart a Jew, thouart a Pagan: how darest thou leave them without a cloak for the rain, when his daughter, and his sister, and my Mistress is the king's wife?  Fu. 
Go look, sirrah fool, my condition is to ship you too.  Bab. 
There's a ship of fools ready to hoist sail, they stay but for a good wind and your company: ha ha ha, I wonder (if all fools were banished) where thou wouldst take shipping.  Ian. 
Peace Babulo, we are banished from the Court.  Bab. 
I am glad, it shall ease me of a charge here, as long as we have good clothes on one backs, 'tis no matter for our honesty, we'll live anywhere, and keep Court in any corner.  Enter Grissill. Ian. 
Oh my dear Grissel.  Gri. 
You from me are banished,  
But ere you leave the Court, oh leave I pray  
Your grief in Grissel's bosom, let my cheeks  
Be watered with woes tears, for here and here,  
And in the error of these wandering eyes,  
Began your discontent: had not I been,  
By nature painted thus: this had not been,  
To leave the Court and care be patient,  
In your old cottage you shall find content.  
Mourn not because these silks are ta'en away,  
You'll seem more rich in a course gown of grey,  Fur. 
Will you be parking? when?  Lan. 
Friend what's thy name?  Fur. 
Furio my name is, what of that?  Bab. 
Is thy name Fury? thou art half hanged, for thou hast an ill name.  Lau. 
Thy looks are like thy name, thy name & looks Approve thy nature to be violent.  Gris. 
Brother forbear, he's servant to my Lord.  Ba. 
To him, M. spare him not an inch.  Lau. 
Princes are never pleased with subjects sins,  
But pity those whom they are sworn to smite,  
And grieve as tender mothers when they beat,  
With kind correction their unquiet babes-  
So should their Officers compassionate,  
The misery of any wretch's state.  Fur. 
I must obey my Master, though indeed My heart (that seems hard) at their wrongs doth bleed. Pray get you gone, I say little, but you know my mind.  Bab. 
Little said is soon amended, thou sayst but little, and that little will be mended soon indeed, that's never, and so the Proverb stands in his full strength, power and virtue.  Enter marquess, Mario and Lepido, and attendants. Fur. 
They will not go my Lord.  Marq. 
Will they not go?  
Away with them, expel them from our Court,  
Base wretches, is it wrong to ask mine own?  
Think you that my affection to my wife,  
Is greater than my love to public weal?  
Do not my people murmur every hour,  
That I have raised you up to dignities?  
Do not lewd Minstrels in their ribald runes,  
scoff at her birth, and descant on her dower?  Ian. 
Alas my Lord, you knew her state before.  Marq. 
I did, and from the bounty of my heart,  
I robbed my wardrobe of all precious robes,  
That she might shine in beauty like the Sun,  
And in exchange, I hung this russet gown,  
And this poor pitcher for a monument,  
Amongst my costliest gems: see here they hang,  
Grissel look here, this gown is unlike to this?  Gris. 
My gracious Lord, I know full well it is.  Ba. 
Grissel was as pretty a Grissel in the one as in the other.  Marq. 
you have forgot these rags, this water pot.  Gris. 
With reverence of your Highness I have not.  Ba. 
Nor I, many a good mess of water gruel has that yielded us.  Marq. 
Yes, you are proud of these your rich attires.  Gris. 
Never did pride keep pace with my desires.  Marq. 
Well, get you on, part briefly with your father.  Ian. 
Our parting shall be short, daughter farewell.  Lau. 
Our parting shall be short, sister farewell.  Pa. 
Our parting shall be short, Grissel farewell.  Ian. 
Remember thou didst live when thou wert poor,  
And now thou dost but live, come son no more.  Marq. 
See them without the Palace Furio.  Fu. 
Good, yet 'tis bad. Exeunt with Furio.  Ba. 
Shall Furio see them out of the Palace? do you turn us out of doors? you turn us out of doors then?  Marq. 
Hence with that fool, Mario drive him hence,  Ba. 
He shall not need, I am no Ox nor Ass, I can go without driving, for all his turning, I am glad of one thing.  Lep. 
What's that Babulo?  Bab. 
Mary that he shall never hit us i'th' teeth with turning us, for 'tis not a good turn, follower I must cashier you: I must give over housekeeping, 'tis the fashion, farewell boy.  Boy. 
marry farewell and be hanged.  Ba. 
I am glad thou tak'st thy death so patiently, farewell my Lord, adieu my Lady, great was the wisdom of that tailor, that stitched me in Motley, for he's a fool that leaves basket making to turn Courtier: I see my destiny dogs me: at first I was a fool (for I was borne an Innocent) than I was a traveler, and then a Basketmaker, and then a Courtier, and now I most turn basketmaker and fool again, the one I am sworn to, but the fool I bestow upon the world, for Stultorum plena sunt ominia adieu, adieu. Exit.  Mar. 
Farewell simplicity, part of my shame farewell, Now Lady what say you of their exile?  Gri. 
whatever you think good, I'll not term vile,  
By this rich burden in my worthless womb,  
Your handmaid is so subject to your will,  
That nothing which you do, to her seems ill.  Mar. 
I am glad you are so patient, get you in, Exit Gr.  
Thy like will never be, never hath been.  
Mario, Lepido?  Mario Lepi. 
My gracious Lord.  Mar. 
The hand of poverty held down your states,  
As it did Grissel's, and as her I raised,  
To shine in greatness sphere, so did mine eye,  
Through gilt beams of your births, therefore methinks  
Your soul should sympathize, and you should know,  
What passions in my Grissel's bosom flow,  
Faith tell me your opinions of my wife?  Lep. 
She is as virtuous and as patient,  
As innocent, as patience itself.  Mari. 
She merits much of love, little of hate,  
Only in birth she is unfortunate.  Marq. 
ay, ay, the memory of that mirth doth kill me,  
She is with child you see, her travail past,  
I am determined she shall leave the Court,  
And live again with old janicola.  Both. 
Therein you show true wisdom.  Marq. 
Do I indeed?  
Dear friends it shall be done, I'll have you two  
Rumour that presently, to the wide ears  
Of that newes-loving-beast the multitude,  
Go tell them for their sakes this shall be done.  Mari. 
With wings we fly.  Lep. 
Swifter than time we run. Exeunt.  Marq. 
Begone then: oh these times, these impious times,  
How swift is mischief? with what nimble feet  
Doth envy gallop to do injury?  
They both confess my Grissel's innocence,  
They both admire her wondrous patience,  
Yet in their malice and to flatter me,  
Headlong they run to this impiety.  
Oh what's this world, but a confused throng  
Of fools and mad men, crowding in a thrust  
To shoulder out the wise, trip down the just.  
But I will try by self experience,  
And shun the vulgar sentence of the base,  
If I find Grissel strong in patience,  
These flatterers shall be wounded with disgrace,  
And whilst verse lives, the fame shall never die,  
Of Grissel's patience, and her constancy. Exit.  Enter Urcenze and Onophrio at several doors, and Farnezie in the midst. Far. 
Onophrio and Urcenze early met, every man take his stand, for there comes a most rich purchase of mirth: Emulo with his hand in a fair scarf, and julia with him, she laughs apace, and therefore I am sure he lies apace  Enter Emulo with julia, Ono 
His arm in a scarf? has he been fighting?  Far 
Fighting? hang him coward  jul 
Did my new married x Sir Owen wound you thus?  Emu 
He certes, as he is allied to the illustrious julia. I live his devoted, as signor Emulo's enemy, no adulatory language can reddeeme him from vengeance: if you please my most accomplished Mistress;, I will make a most palpable demonstration of our battle.  jul 
As palpably as you can good servant.  Ono 
Oh she gulls him simply.  Par 
She has reason, is he not a simple gull?  Vre. 
Sound an alarum ere his battle begin  Farn. 
Peace, sa, sa, sa.  Emu 
Sir Owen and myself encountering, I veiled my upper garment, and enriching my head again wish a fine velvet cap, which I then wore, with a band to it of Orient Pearl and Gold, and a foolish sprig of some nine or ten pound rice, or so, we grew to an emparleance  Far 
Oh ho ho, this is rare.  jul 
You it wisely to confer before you combated.  Emu 
Verily we did so, but falling into the hands of bitter words, we retorted a while, and then drew.  Ono 
True, his gloves to save his hands.  Vrc. 
No, his handkerchief to wipe his face.  Far 
He sweat pitifully for fear, if it were true: if,  Emu 
I was then encountered with a pure Toledo silvered: and elevatig mine arm, in the drawing (by jesus Sweet Madam, my rich cloak loaded with Pearl, which I wore at your sister Grissel's bridal, I made it then (by God. of mere purpose, to grace the Court and so forth) that foolish garment dropped down: the buttons were illustrious and resplendent diamonds, but it's all one.  Far/ 
Nay, they were all scarce one.  Emu 
Divine Lady as I said, we both lying,  Fa 
I'll be sworn thou dost.  Emu 
I must recognise and confess, very generously, and heroyicallie at our ward, the welsh knight making a very desperate thrust at my bosom, before God fairly missed my embroidered Jerkin that I then wore, and with my poniard vapulating and checking his engine down, it cut me a pair of very imperial cloth of gold hose, at least thus long thwart the cannon, at least.  jul 
And missed your leg?  Fa 
I, and his hose too.  Emu 
And missed my leg (most bright star) which advantageous sign I(⟨…⟩) this leg (having a fair carnation silk stocking on) stumbled, my spangled garters in that imprison fell about my feet, and he fetching a most valorous and ingenious career, invaded my Rapier hand, entered this gilded fort, and that passado vulnerated my hand thus deep I protest, and contest heaven.  jul 
No more, it's too tragical.  Emu 
I conclude I thought (by the Syntheresis of my soul) I had not been imperished, till the blood showing his red tincture, at the tope of a fair enueloped glove, sunk along my arm& spoiled a rich wastecoate wrought in silk and gold, a toy etc.  Far. 
he'll strip himself out of his shirt anon, for God's sake step in.  Emu. 
My opinion is I shall never recuperate the legitimate office of this member my arm.  All 3. 
signor Emulo.  Emu 
Sweet and accomplished Signiors.  Far. 
Ha ha, Madame you had a pitiful hand with this fool, but see he is recovered.  Iu. 
But servant where is your other hand?  Ono. 
See sweet mistress one is my prisoner.  Vrc. 
The other I have ta'en up with the fine finger.  Iul. 
Look in his scarf Farneze for another, he has a third hand, and 'tis pitifully wounded he tells me, pitifully, pitifully.  Far. 
Wounded, oh palpable, come a demonstration of it.  Ono. 
Give him your larded cloak signor to stop his mouth, for he will undo you with lies.  Vrc. 
Come signor, one fine lie now to apparel all these former, in some light sarsenet rob of truth: none, none, in this mint?  Iul. 
Fie servant, is your accomplished Courtship nothing but lies:  Ono. 
Fie signor, no music in your mouth, but battles, yet a mere milksop.  Vrc. 
Fie Emulo, nothing but wardrobe, yet hear all your trunks of suits?  Far. 
Fie signor, a scarce about your neck, yet will not hang yourself to hear all this?  Iul. 
Servant I discharge you my service, I'll entertain no braggarts.  Ono. 
signor, we discharge you the Court, we'll have no gulls in our company.  Far. 
Abram we cashier you our company, we must have no minions at Court.  Emu. 
Oh patience be thou my fortification: Italy thou spurnest me for uttering that nutriment, which I sucked from thee.  Fa. 
How Italy? away you idiot: Italy infects you not, but your own diseased spirits: Italy? out you froth, you scum, because your soul is mud, and that you have breathed in Italy, you'll say Italy have defiled you: away you bore, thou wilt wallow in mire in the sweetest country in the world.  Emu. 
I cannot conceit this rawness: Italy farewell, Italians adieu.  
A virtuous soul abhors to dwell with you. Exit.  All. 
Ha ha ha: Laugh.  Enter marquess and Sir Owen. Iu. 
Peace servants, here comes the Duke my brother.  Marq. 
Lo x here they be: are ye here Gentlemen?  
And julia you too? then I'll call your eyes,  
To testify, that to Sir Meredith,  
I do deliver here four sealed bonds:  
coz have a care to them, it much behooves you,  
For Gentlemen, within this parchment lies,  
Five thousand Ducats payable to him,  
Just fourteen days before next Pentecost,  
coz it concerns you, therefore keep them safe.  Owen. 
Fugh, her warrant her shall log them ub from Sun and Moon, and seven stars too I hobe, but harg you cozen marquess.  Marq 
Now, what's the matter?  Ow. 
A poor on it 'tis scald matter, well, well pray cozen marquess, use her Latie Grissel a good teal better, for as God udge me, you heard Sir Owen out a cry by maging her sad and proved so, see you?  Marq. 
Hurt you? what harm or good reap you thereby?  Owen. 
Harm, yes by God's lid, a poggy teal of harm, for loog you cozen, and cozen julia, & Shentlemen awl, (for awl is to know her wife's case) you know her tag to wife the widow Gwenthyan.  Marq. 
True cousin & she's a virtuous gentlewoman.  On. 
One of the patientest Ladies in the world.  Vrc. 
she's wondrous beautiful & wondrous kind.  Far. 
she's the quietest woman that ere I knew, for good heart, she'll put up any thing.  Iul. 
cousin I am proud that you are sped so well.  Ow. 
Are you? by God so are not I, i'll tell you what cozen marquess, you awl know her well, you know her face is liddle fair & smug, but her has a tongue goes jingle jangle, jingle jangle, better and worse than pelles when her house is afire: patient? ha ha sir Owen shall tag her heels and run to Wales, and her play the tiuell so out a cry terrible a pogs on her la.  Iul. 
Why cozen what are her qualities that you so commend her?  Ow. 
Commend her? no by God not I, ha ha: is know her qualities better & better, 'fore I commend her: but Gwenthian is worse and worse out a cry, owe out a cry worse, out of awl cry, she's feared to be made fool as Grissel is, & as God udge me, her mag fine pobbie fool of Sir Owen, her shide & shide, & prawle & scold, by God and scratch terrible sometime, owe & haid her will do what her can, ha ha ha, and sir Owen were handsome pachcler again, pray cozen marquess tag some order in Grissel, or fetch sir Owen to mag Gwenthyan's quiet and tame her.  Marq. 
To tame her? that I'll teach you presently,  
You had no sooner spoke the word of Taming,  
But mine eye met a speedy remedy,  
See cozen here's a plot where Osiers grow,  
The ground belongs to old janicula  
(My Grissel's father) come Sir Meredith,  
Take out your knife cut three and so will I,  
So, keep yours cozen let them be safe laid up,  
These three (thus wound together) I'll preserve.  Ow. 
What shall her do now with these? peat and knog her Gwenthian. Enter Mario.  Marq. 
You shall not take such counsel from my lips,  
How now Mario? what news brings thee hither in such quick haste?  Mari. 
Your wife (my gracious Lord)  
Is now delivered of two beauteous twins,  
A son and daughter.  Marq. 
Take that for thy pains,  
Not for the joy that I conceive thereby,  
For Grissel is not gracious in the eye  
Of those that love me, therefore I must hate  
Those that do make my life unfortunate.  
And that's my children: must I not Mario?  
Thou bowest thy knee, well, well I know thy mind,  
Virtue in villains can no succour find,  
A son and daughter? I by them will prove,  
My Grissel's patience better, and her love:  
Come julia, come Onophrio, coz farewell,  
Reserve those wands, these three I'll bear away,  
When I require them back, then will I show  
How easily a man may tame a shrew. Exeunt.  Ow. 
Ha ha ha, tame a shrew, owe 'tis out a cry terrible hard, and more worse than tame a mad pull, but whad mean her cozen to mag her cut her wands? ha ha, God udge me 'tis fine knag, I see her knavery now, 'tis to pang Gwenthyan's podie and she mag a noise & prabble: Is not so? by God's lid so, & Gwenthian, sir Owen will knog you before her abide such horrible do. Enter Gwenthian and Rice .God's lid here her comes. Terdawgh Gwenthian Terdawgh.  Gwe. 
Terdawgh whee, Sir Owen Terdawgh whee.  owen. 
Owe, looge here, fine wands Gwenthyan, is not?  Gwe. 
Rees tag them and preag them in pieces.  Ric. 
What say you forsooth?  Gwe. 
What say you forsooth? you saucy knave, must her tell her once, and twice, and thrice, and four times, what to do? preag these wands.  Ow. 
Rees is better preak Rees his pate: here Rees carry her home.  Ri. 
Would I were at gallows, so I were not here:  Gwen. 
Do and her tore, do and her tore, see you now, what shall her do with wands? peat Gwenthyan? podie and mag Gwenthyan put her finger in me hole: ha, by God by God, is scratch her eyes out that judge her, that tawg to her, that loog on her, mark you that Sir Owen?  owen. 
Yes, her mark her, Rees pray mark her Lady?  Ri. 
Not I sir she'll set her marks on me then.  Gwen. 
Is prade? is prade? go too Rees, I'll Rees her, you tawg you.  Owen. 
Pray Gwenthyan be patient, as her cousin Grissel is.  Gwe. 
Grissel owe? owe? Grissel? no, no, no, no. her shall not mag Gwenthian such ninny pobbie fool as Grissel, I say preage her wands.  owen. 
cod's plude is pought her to peat dust out of her cloag and parrels.  Gwe. 
peat her cloag and parrels? fie, fie, fie, 'tis lie Sir Owen 'tis lie.  Ri. 
Your worship may stab her, she gives you the lie.  Ow. 
Peace Rees, go to, I pought them indeed to mag her horse run and go a mighty teal of pace, pray let Rees tag her in good Gwenthian?  Gwen. 
Rees bear in her wands because Sir Owen beg so gently.  owen. 
Go Rees, go lock them up in a pox or shest, go.  Ri. 
You shall not need to bid me go, for I'll run. Exit.  Owen. 
I pought them for her horse indeed, for here was her cousin marquis and prought her ponds and scribblings here for her money: Gwenthyan pray keep her ponds and keep her wisely: Sirrah Gwenthyan is tell her praue news, Grissel is prought to bed of liddle shentleman and gentlewoman: (is glad out a cry speag her fair) yes truly Grissel is prought a-bed.  Gwen. 
Grissel's no podie but Grissel's? what care I for Grissel: I say if Sir Owen love Gwenthyan, shall not love Grissel nor marquess so, see you now?  Ow. 
God udge me, not love her cozen? is shealous? owe is fine trig, not love her cozen? God udge me her will, and hang herself, see you now?  Gwe. 
Hang herself, owe, owe, owe, Gwenthyan's other husband is scawrne to say hang herself: hang herself? owe owe, owe owe.  Ow. 
God's plude, what cannot get by prawles, is get by owe, owe owe, is terrible Lady, pray be peace, and cry no more owe, owe, owe, Tawsone Gwenthyan's, God udge me is very fury.  Gwen. 
O mon lago, mon due, hang Gwenthyan's?  Ow. 
Adologo whee Gwenthyan bethogh, en Thonigh, en moyen due.  Gw. 
x vetho en Thonigh, cna wathe gethla Tee, hang Gwenthyan's?  Owen. 
Sir Owen shall say no more hang herself, be out a cry still and her shall pie her new card to ride in, & two new fine horses, and more plew coats and padges ta follow her heels, see you now?  Gwen. 
But will her say no more hang herself?  Enter Rice. Ow. 
Oh no more, as God udge me no more, pray leave, owe, owe, owe.  Ri. 
Tannekin the Fide hath brought your Rebato, it comes to three pound.  Ow. 
What a pestilence is this for Gwenthyan?  Gwe. 
For her neg, is called repatoes, Gwenthian wear it here, be't not praue?  owen. 
Brave? yes is prave, 'tis repatoes I warrant her: I patoes money out a cry, yes 'tis praue, Rees the preece? Rees the preece?  Ri. 
The Froe sir says five pound.  owen. 
Ha ha ha, pound, Gwenthyan pray do not pie it.  Gwen. 
By God udge me her shall pie it.  owen. 
God udge me her shall not.  Gwen. 
Shall not? Rees tag her away, I say her shall and wear it pie and pie.  owen. 
Then mag a pobbie fool of Sir Owen indeed: God's plude shall? I say shall not: five pound for puble, for patoes: here there, so tag it now, wear it now powte her neg, shall pridle sir Owen ha?  Ri. 
Oh rare sir Owen, ah precious knight, oh rare Sir Owen.  Gwe. 
Out you rascals, you prade and prade, i'll prade your nieces.  Ri. 
Oh rare madam, oh precious madam, O God, O God, O God, O. Exit.  Gwe. 
Is domineer now, you tear her ruffs and repatoes, you preak her ponds? I'll tear as good ponds, and better too, and better too.  Ow. 
Owe Gwenthyan, cod's plude is five thousand ducats, hold hold hold, a pogs on her pride, what has her done?  Gw. 
Go loog, is now paid for her repatoes, i'll have her wills & desires, i'll teadge her pridle her Lady: Catho crogge, Ne vetho, en Thlonigh gna wathee Gnathlatee. Exit  owen. 
A breath vawer or no Tee: pridle her, sir owen is pridled I warrant: widows (were better God's plude marry whore) were better be hanged and quarter, then marry widows as God udge me: Sir owen fall on her knees, & pray God to tag her to her mercy, or else put better mind in her Lady: awl prittish Shentlemans tag heed how her marry fixen widow.  
Sir owen ap Meredith can rightly tell,  
A shrews sharp tongue is terrible as hell. Exit.  Enter marquess and Furio with an infant in his arms. Marq. 
Did she not see thee when thou took'st it up?  Fur. 
No, she was fast asleep.  Marq. 
Give me this blessed burden, pretty fool  
With what an amiable look it sleeps,  
And in that slumber how it sweetly smiles,  
And in that smile how my heart leaps for joy:  
Furio I'll turn this circle to a cradle,  
To rock my dear babe: A great Roman Lord,  
Taught his young Son to ride a Hobby-horse.  
Then why should I think scorn to dandle mine:  
Furio behold it well, to whom be't like?  Fur. 
You, there's your nose and black eyebrows.  Enter Mario. Marq. 
Thou dost but flatter me, here comes Mario,  
I know Mario will not flatter me,  
Mario, thy opinion, view this child,  
Doth not his lips, his nose, his forehead,  
And every other part resemble mine?  Mari. 
So like my Lord, that the nice difference,  
Would stay the judgement of the curious't eye.  Marq. 
And yet methinks I am not half so brown.  Mari. 
Indeed your cheeks bear a more lively colour  Marq. 
Furio, play thou the nurse, handle it softly.  Fur. 
One were better get a dozen then nurse one.  Marq. 
Mario step to Grissel she's asleep,  
Her white hand is the pillar to those cares,  
Which I ungently lodged within her head,  
Steal thou the other child and bring it hither,  
If Grissel be awake and strive with thee,  
Bring it perforce, nor let her know what hand,  
Hath robbed her of this other, haste Mario.  Mari. 
I fly my gracious Lord. Exit.  Marq. 
Run flattery, because I did blaspheme and call it brown,  
This parasite cried (like an Echo) brown.  Fur. 
The child is fair my Lord, you were near so fair.  Marq. 
I know 'tis fair, I know 'tis wondrous fair,  
Dear pretty infant let me with a kiss,  
Take that dishonour off, which the foul breath  
Of a profane slave, laid upon thy cheeks;  
Had but I said my boy's a Blackamoor,  
He would have damned himself and so have sworn.  Enter Grissill and Mario with a child. Gris. 
Give me mine infant, where's my other babe?  
You cannot play the nurse, your horrid eyes  
Will fright my little ones and make them cry,  
Your tongue's too ruff to chime a lullaby:  
'tis not the pleasure of my Lord I know,  
To load me with such wrong.  Mari. 
No, I unload you. Scoffingly.  Marq. 
Give her her child Mario and yet stay,  
Furio hold thou them both, Grissel forbear,  
You are but nurse to them they are not thine.  Gri. 
I know my gracious Lord they are not mine,  
I am but their poor nurse I must confess,  
Alas let not a nurse be pitiless.  
To see the cold air make them look thus bleak,  
Makes me shed tears because they cannot speak.  Marq. 
If they could speak, what think you they would say?  Gri. 
That I in all things will your will obey.  Marq. 
Obey it then in silence: shall not I  
Bestow what is mine own, as likes me best?  
Deliver me these brats: come press me down,  
With weighty infamy: here is a load  
Of shame, of speckled shame: O God how heavy  
An armful of dishonour is? here's two,  
Grissel for this i'll thank none else but you,  
Which way soe'er I turn I meet a face,  
That makes my cheeks blush at mine own disgrace.  
This way or this way, never shall mine eye  
Look thus, or thus: but (oh me) presently,  
(Take them for God's sake Furio) presently  
I shall spend childish tears: true tears indeed,  
That thus I wrong my babes and make her bleed,  
Go Grissel get you in.  Gri. 
I go my Lord.  
Farewell sweet sweet dear babes, so you were free,  
Would all the world's cares might be thrown on me.  Mar. 
Ha, ha, why this is pleasing harmony.  Fu. 
My Lord they'll wrawl, what shall I do with them?  Marq. 
Tell her thou must provide a nurse for them  
Comes she not back Mario?  Mari. 
No my Lord.  Marq. 
Tush, tush, it cannot be but she'll return,  
I know her bosom bears no marble heart,  
I know, a tender Mother cannot part,  
With such a patient soul, from such sweet souls,  
She stands and watches sure, and sure the weeps,  
To see my seeming flinty breast, Mario  
Withdraw with me: Furio stay thou here still,  
If she return, seem childish, and deny  
To let her kiss or touch them. Exeunt  Fur. 
Faith not I: I have not such a heart, and she ask to touch them. I'll deny it because i'll obey my Lord, yet she shall kiss and touch them to, because I'll please my Lady: alas, alas, pretty fools I love you well but I would you had a better Nurse.  Enter Grissill stealingly. Gris. 
A better Nurse: seek'st thou a better Nurse?  
A better Nurse then whom?  Fu. 
Then you, away.  Gris. 
I am their Mother I must not away,  
Look, look, good Furio look they smile on me,  
I know poor hearts they fear to smile on thee,  
I prithee let me have them.  Fu. 
Touch them not.  Gri. 
I pry thee let me touch them.  Fu. 
No: Hands off.  Gri. 
I pry thee gentle Furio let me kiss them.  Fu, 
Not one kiss for a king's crown:  Gris. 
Must I not kiss my babes: must I not touch them?  
Alas what sin so vile hath Grissel done  
That thus she should be vexed? not kiss my infants?  
Who taught thee to be cruel gentle churl,  
What must thou do with them?  Fu. 
Get them a nurse.  Gris. 
A Nurse alack, what Nurse? where must she dwell  Fu. 
I must not tell you: till I know myself,  Gri. 
For God's sake who must Nurse them do but name her,  
And I will swear those fiery eyes do smile,  
And I will swear that which none else will swear,  
That thy grim brows, do mercy's livery wear,  Fu. 
Choose you.  Enter marquess, standing aside. Gris. 
Oh God, oh God, might Grissel have her choice  
My babes should not be scared with thy devils voice.  
Thou get a Nurse for them? they can abide,  
To taste no milk but mine, come, come I'll chide,  
In faith you cruel man, I'll chide indeed,  
If I grow angry.  Fu. 
Do do I care not.  Marq. 
To chide & curse thy Lord thou hast more need  Gris. 
Wilt thou not tell me who shall be their Nurse?  Fu. 
No.  Gris. 
Wilt thou not let me kiss them?  Fu 
No I say.  Gris. 
I prithee let my tears, let my bowed knees,  
Bend thy obdurate heart, see here's a fountain,  
Which heaven into this Alabaster bowels,  
Instilled to nourish them: man they'll cry,  
And blame thee that this run so lavishly,  
Here's milk for both my babes two breasts for two.  Marq. 
Poor babes I weep to see what wrong I do.  Gris. 
I pray thee let them suck I am most meet,  
To play their Nurse: they'll smile and say 'tis sweet,  
Which streams from hence, if thou dost bear them hence,  
My angry breasts will swell, and as mine eyes  
Lets fall salt drops, with these white nectar tears,  
They will be mixed: this sweet will then be brine,  
They'll cry I'll chide and say the sin is thine.  Fu. 
Mine arms ache mightily.  
And my heart aches.  Marq. 
And so doth mine: sweet sounds this discord makes.  Fu. 
Here madam take one, I am weary of both, touch it and kiss it to, it's a sweet child, I would I were rid of my misery, for I shall drown my heart, with my tears that fall inward.  Gris. 
Oh this is gently done this is my boy.  
My first borne care: thy feet that never felt ground,  
Have traveled longest in this land of woe,  
This world's wilderness, and hast most need,  
Of my most comfort: oh I thank thee Furio,  
I know I should transform thee with my tears,  
And melt thy adamantive heart like wax,  
What wrong shall these have to be ta'en from me,  
Mildly entreat their Nurse to touch them mildly,  
For my soul tells me, that my honoured Lord,  
Does but to try poor Grissel's constancy,  
he's full of mercy justice, full of love.  Marq. 
My cheeks do glow with shame to hear her speak,  
Should I not weep for joy my heart would break,  
And yet a little more I'll stretch my trial.  Enter Mario and Lepido. 
Mario, Lepido?  Both 
My gracious Lord?  Marq. 
You shall be witness of this open wrong,  
I gave straight charge, she should not touch these brats,  
Yet has she tempted with lascivious tears,  
The heart of Furio, see she dandles them,  
Take that child from her: stay, stay, i'll commend,  
That pity in thee which I'll reprehend.  Fu. 
Do.  Marq. 
Dare you thus contradict our straight command  
But here's a trusty groom, out hypocrite,  
I shall do justice wrong to let thee breath,  
For disobeying me.  Gris. 
My gracious Lord,  Marq. 
Tempt me not Siren, since you are so loving,  
Hold you take both your children, get you gone,  
Derobe her of these rich habiliments,  
Take down her hat, her pitcher and her gown,  
And as she came to me in beggary,  
So drive her to her fathers.  Mari. 
My dear Lord.  Marq. 
Vex me not good Mario if you woo me,  
(Or if you shed one tear) to pity her,  
Or if by any drift you succour her,  
You lose my favour everlastingly,  Both. 
We must obey since there's no remedy,  Marq. 
You must be villains there's no remedy,  
Mario, Lepido, you two shall help,  
To bear her children home.  Gri. 
It shall not need I can bear more.  Marq. 
Thou bearest too much indeed.  Gri. 
Come, come sweet lambs we'll laugh and live content  
Though from the Court we live in banishment,  
These rich attires are for your mother fit,  
But not your nurse, therefore I'll off with it.  Marq 
Away with her I say.  Gris. 
Away, away?  
Nothing but that cold comfort we'll obey,  
Heaven smile upon my Lord with gracious eye,  Marq. 
Drive her hence Lepido.  Lep. 
Good madam hence.  Gri. 
Thus tyranny oppresseth innocence,  
Thy looks seem heavy, but thy heart is light,  
For villains laugh when wrong oppresseth right. Run to him  
Must we then be driven hence: Oh see my Lord,  
Sweet pretty fools they both smiled at that word.  
They smile as who should say indeed indeed,  
Your tongue cries hence, but your heart's not agreed,  
Can you thus part from them? in truth I know,  
Your true love cannot let these infants go.  Marq. 
she'll triumph over me do what I can.  Turns from her. Mari. 
Good madam hence.  Gri. 
Oh send one gracious smile  
Before we leave this place: turn not away,  
Do but look back, let us but once more see  
Those eyes, whose beams shall breathe new souls in three,  
It is enough now we'll depart in joy,  
Nay be not you so cruel, should you two  
Be thus driven hence, trust me I'd pity you.  Marq. 
Disrobe her presently.  Both. 
It shall be done.  Grissi. 
To work some good deed thus you would not run. Exeunt.  Marq. 
Oh Grissel in large Characters of gold,  
Thy virtuous sacred fame shall be enrolled,  
Tell me thy judgement Furio of my wife?  Fur. 
I think my Lord she's a true woman, for she loves her children, a rare wife, for she loves you, (I believe you'll hardly find her match) and I think she's more than a woman, because she conqueres all wrongs by patience.  Mar. 
Yet once more will I try her, presently  
I'll have thee go to old Ianicola's,  
And take her children from her, breed some doubt,  
(By speeches) in her, that her eyes shall never  
Behold them more: bear them to Pavia,  
Commend us to our brother, say from us,  
That we desire him with all kind respect,  
To nurse the infants, and withal conceal,  
Their parentage from any mortal ear,  
I charge thee on thy life reveal not this,  
I charge thee on thy life, be like thy name,  
(When thou comest to her) rough and furious.  Fur. 
Well, I will: It's far from Saluce to Pavia, the children will cry, I have no teats you know, 'twere good you thought upon it.  Marq. 
There's gold.  Fu. 
That's good.  Marq. 
Provide them nurses.  Fu. 
That's better, I will and I can. Exit Furio.  Marq. 
Away, though I dare trust thy secrecy,  
Yet will I follow thee in some disguise,  
And try thy faith, and Grissel's constancy:  
If thou abide unblemished, than I swear,  
A have found two wonders that are seldom rise,  
A trusty servant, and a patient wife. Exit.  Enter janicola and Laureo, with burdens of Osiers. Lau. 
Father how fare you?  Ian. 
Very well my son,  
This labour is a comfort to my age,  
The marquis hath to me been merciful,  
In sending me from Courtly delicates,  
To taste the quiet of this country life.  Lau. 
Call him not merciful, his tyranny  
Exceeds the most inhuman.  Ian. 
Peace my son,  
I thought by learning thou hadst been made wise,  
But I perceive it puffeth up thy soul,  
Thou tak'st a pleasure to be counted just,  
And kick against the faults of mighty men:  
Oh 'tis in vain, the earth may even as well  
Challenge the potter to be partial,  
For forming it to sundry offices:  
Alas the error of ambitious fools,  
How frail are all their thoughts, how faint, how weak?  
Those that do strive to justle with the great,  
Are certain to be bruised, or soon to break.  
Come, come mell with our Osiers, here let's rest,  
This is old homely home, & that's still best.  Enter Babulo with a bundle of Osiers in one arm and a child in another, Grissill after him with another child. Bab. 
Hush, hush, hush, hush, and I dance mine own child and I dance mine own child, etc.: ha ha, whoop old Master, so ho ho, look here, and I dance mine own child, etc.: here's sixteen pence a week, and sixteen pence a week, eight groats, soap and candle, I met her in Osier grove, crying hush, hush, hush, hush: I thought it had been some beggar woman, because of her pitcher, for you know they bear such household stuff, to put drink and porridge together, and I dance mine, etc.  Lau. 
Oh father now forswear all patience,  
Grissel comes home to you in poor array,  
Grissel is made a drudge, a castaway.  Ian. 
Grissel is welcome home to poverty,  
How now my child are these thy pretty babes?  Ba. 
And I dance mine own child; art thou there? art thou there?  jan 
Why art thou thus come home, who sent thee hither?  Gri 
It is the pleasure of my princely Lord,  
Who taking some offence, to me unknown,  
Hath banished me from care to quietness.  Ba. 
A fig for care, old Master, but old grandsire, take this little Pope Innocent, we'll give over basket making and turn nurses; she has uncled Laureo: It's no matter, you shall go make a fire, Grandsire you shall dandle them, Grissel shalt go make Pap, and I'll lick the skillet, but first I'll fetch a cradle, it's a sign 'tis not a dear year, when they come by two at once, here's a couple quoth Jack daw, art thou there? sing Grandsire.  Exit jan 
What said the marquess when he banished thee?  Gri 
He gave me gentle language, kissed my cheek,  
For God's sake therefore speak not ill of him,  
Tears trickling from his eyes and sorrows hand  
Stopping his mouth, thus did he bid adieu,  
Whilst many a deep fetched sigh from his breast flew.  
Therefore for God's sake speak not ill of him.  
Good Lord how many a kiss he gave my babes,  
And with wet eyes bade me be patient.  
And by my truth (if I have any truth)  
I came from Court more quiet and content,  
By many a thousand part then when I went:  
Therefore for God's love speak not ill of him.  Lau 
O vile dejection of too base a soul,  
Hast thou beheld the Paradise of Court,  
Fed of rich several meats, bathed in sweet streams,  
Slep on the bed of pleasure, sat enthroned,  
Whilst troops of Saintlike have adored thee:  
And being now thrown down by violence  
Dost thou not envy those that drive thee hence?  Gri 
Far be it from my heart from envying my Lord  
In thought, much less either in deed or word.  Lau 
Then has not true love, for I would curse  
From the suns rising to his western fall,  
The marquess and his flattering minions  Gri 
By day and night, kind heaven protect them all,  
What wrong have they done me? what hate to you?  
Have I not fed upon the Prince's cost?  
Been clothed in rich attires, lived on his charge?  
Look here my russet gown is yet unworn,  
And many a winter more may serve my turn,  
By the preserving it so many months:  
The Pitcher unhurt, see it is filled  
With crystal water the crisped spring.  
If you remember on my wedding day,  
You sent me with this pitcher to the well,  
And I came empty home, because I met  
The gracious marquess and his company.  
Now hath he sent you this cup full of tears,  
You'll say the comfort's cold, well be it so,  
Yet every little comfort helps in woe  
 
 jan 
True model of true virtue, welcome child,  
Thou and these tender babes to me are welcome.  
We'll work to find them food, come kiss them soon,  
And let's forget these wrongs as never done.  Enter Babulo with a cradle. Ba. 
Come, where be these infidels? here's the cradle of security, and pillow of idleness for them, and their Grandsire's cloak (not of hypocrisy) but honesty to cover them.  jan 
Lay them both softly down, Grissel sit down,  
Laureo fetch my lute, rock thou the cradle.  
Cover the poor fools arm, I'll charm their eyes,  
To take a sleep by sweet tuned lullabies.  The Song. 

GOlden slumbers kiss your eyes,  
Smiles awake you when you rise:  
Sleep pretty wantons do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby,  
Rock them rock them lullaby.   

Care is heavy therefore sleep you,  
You are care and care must keep you:  
Sleep pretty wantons do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby,  
Rock them rock them lullaby.   Enter Furio and marquess aloof disguised with baskets. Fur. 
Leave singing.  Ba. 
We may choose, Grandsire sol fa once more, we'll alla mire him, and he we wail in woe, and who can hinder us?  Fur. 
Sirrah Scholar read there, it's a commission for me to take away these children.  Ba. 
Nay then you're welcome, there's four groats, and here's four more.  Gri. 
To take away my children gentle Furio,  
Why must my babes bear this ungentle doom?  Fur. 
Go look.  Lau. 
O misery, O most accursed time,  
When to be foes to guilt is held a crime,  
Sister this fiend must bear your infants hence.  Ia. 
Good Grissel bear all wrongs with patience. Weeps  Gri. 
Good father let true patience cure all woe,  
You bid me be content, oh be you so.  Lau. 
Father why do you weep?  Ian. 
What can I do,  
Though her he punish, he might pity you.  Lau. 
Let's fret and curse the marquis cruelly.  Ba. 
I by my troth that's a good way, we may well do it, now we are out of his hearing.  Gri. 
Must I then be divorced? and lose this treasure,  
I must and am content, since 'tis his pleasure,  
I pry thee tell we whither they must go?  Fu. 
No.  Gri. 
Art thou commanded to conceal the place?  Fur. 
I.  Gri. 
Then will not I inquire, thou dost but jest  
I know thou must not rob me, 'tis to try  
If I love them: no, no, here I read,  
That which strikes blind mine eyes, makes my heart bleed,  
Farewell, farewell, dear souls, adieu adieu,  
Your father sends and I must part from you,  
I must oh God I must, must is for Kings,  
And lo obedience for lo underlings.  Lau. 
He shall not hale them thus, keep them perforce,  
This slave looks on them with a murdering eye.  Ba. 
No, he shall not have them, knock out his brains, and save the little hop a my thumbs.  Fa. 
Do if you dare.  Marq. 
How now my hearts, what's the matter?  Fu. 
What carest thou.  Lau. 
This is poor Grissel, wife unto our Duke,  
And these her children, thus he sends her home,  
And thus he sends a serpent to devour,  
Their precious lives he brings commission,  
To hale them hence, but whither none can tell.  Gris. 
Forbear, forbear.  Marq. 
Take them from him perforce,  
Are these his children?  Ba. 
So she says.  Marq. 
Two sweet Ducks, and is this his wife?  Ba. 
Yes, he has line with her.  Mar. 
A pretty soul, sirrah thou wilt be hanged for this.  Fu. 
Hang thyself.  Mar. 
Beat him, but first take these two from his arms,  
I am a basket maker, and I swear  
I'll die before he bear away the babes.  Ba. 
Oh rare, cry prentices and clubs, the corporation cannot be() sirrah set down thy baskets and to't pell-mell.  Fu. 
Would I were rid of my office?  Gri. 
What will you do, drive this rash fellow hence?  Marq. 
The marquis is a tyrant and does worng.  Gri. 
I would not for the world that he should hear thee.  Mar. 
I would not for ten worlds but hear my Grissel.  Gri. 
A tyrant, no he's mercy even herself,  
justice in triumph rides in his two eyes,  
Take heed how thou profanest high deities:  
Go Furio, get thee gone: good father help me  
To guard my dear Lords servant from this place,  
I know he'll do my pretty babes no harm,  
For see Furio looks gently: oh get thee gone,  
Pity sits on thy cheeks, but God can tell,  
My heart says my tongue lies, farewell farewell.  Marq. 
Stay sirrah take thy purse.  Fur. 
I let none fall.  Ba. 
Half part.  Ia. 
A purse of gold Furio is fallen from thee.  Fu. 
It's none of mine, sirrah basketmaker, if my arms were not full, thou should have thy hands full: farewell Grissel, if thou never see thy children more, curse me, if thou dost see them again, thank God, adieu. Exit.  Ba. 
Farewell and be hanged.  Gri. 
I will thank God for all, why should I grieve,  
To lose my children? no no, I ought rather  
Rejoice, because they are borne to their Father.  Ia. 
Daughter, here's nothing in this purse but gold.  Ba. 
So much the better, Master we'll quickly turn it into silver.  Ia. 
This purse that fellow did let fall, run run,  
Carry it him again, run Babulo,  
Away with it, 'tis laid to do us wrong.  Lau. 
Try all their golden baits, stay never run,  
They can do no more wrong than they have done.  Ia. 
What ails my Grissel? comfort my child.  Ba. 
I'll fetch Rosa solis.  Marq. 
Poor soul her grief burns inward, yet her tongue  
Is loath to give it freedom: I do wrong,  
Oh Grissel I do wrong thee and, lament,  
That for my sake thou feel'st this languishment.  
I came to try a servant and a wife,  
Both have I proved true, that purse of gold I brought,  
And let if fall of purpose to relieve her,  
Well may I give her gold that so much grieve her,  
As I came in by stealth, so I'll away,  
joy has a tongue, but knows not what to say. Exit.  Gri. 
So father I am well, I am well indeed,  
I should do wondrous ill, should I repine,  
At my babe's loss for they are none of mine.  Ia. 
I am glad thou tak'st this wound so patiently.  Ba. 
Whoop whether is my brother basketmaker gone: ha let me see, I smell a rat, sneaked hence and never take leave, either he's a crafty knave, or else he dogs Furio to bite him, for when a quarrel enters into a trade it serves seven years before it be free.  Ia. 
Let him be whom he will, he seemed our friend,  
Grissel lay up this gold 'tis Furio's sure,  
Or it may be thy Lord did give it him,  
To let it fall for thee, but keep it safe,  
If he disdain to love thee as a wife,  
His gold shall not buy food to nourish thee,  
Grissel come in, time swiftly runs away,  
The greatest sorrow hath an ending day. Exeunt.  Enter Gwenthyan and Rice, she meanly, he like a Cook. Gwen. 
Rees, lay her table, and set out her fittailes, and preades, and wines, and ale, and pear, and salt for her guess.  Ri. 
Yes forsooth my Lady but what shall I do with all yonder beggars?  Gwe. 
Send out the peggers into her Lady, go.  Ri. 
How? the beggars in, we shall have a lousy feast madam. Exit Rees.  Gwen. 
You rascals prate no more, but fetch them in: shall pridle Sir Owen a good teal well enough, is warrant her. Sir Owen is gone to bid her cozen marquis and a meinie to dine at her house, but Gwenthyan shall kive her dinner I warrant her, for peggers shall have all her meat.  Enter Rees with a company of beggars: a Table is set with meat. Ri. 
Come my hearts, troup, troup, every man follow his leader, here's my Lady.  All. 
God bless your Ladyship, God bless your Ladyship.  Gwen. 
I thang you my good peggers, Rees pring stools, sid awl down, Rees pring more meat.  Ri. 
Here madam, I'll set it on, take't off who will.  Beg. 
Let us alone for that, my Lady shall we scramble or eat mannerly?  Gwen. 
Peggers I hobe have no manners, but first hear me pray you now, and then fall to out a cry.  Beg. 
Peace hear my Lady, jacke-mumble-crust steal no penny loaves.  Gwen. 
Peggers, awl you know Sir Owen?  All. 
Passing well, passing well, God bless his worship.  1 Beg. 
madam, we know him as well as a beggar knows his dish.  Gwe. 
Awl these fittels is made for Cousin marquess: Sir Owen is gone to fetch him, but Sir owen has anger her Lady.  1 Beg. 
More shame for him, he's not a Knight, but a knitter of caps for it.  Gwe. 
Sir Owen has anger her Lady, and therefore her Lady is anger Sir Owen  1 Beg. 
Make him a cuckold madam, and upon that I drink to you: helter-skelter here rogues, top and top gallant, pell-mell, hufty-tufty, hem, God save the Duke, and a fig for the hangman.  Gwen. 
Rees fetch wine and pears enough, and fall to pegger, and eat awl her sheer, and tomineere, see you now, pray do.  A drunken feast, they quarrel and grow drunk, and pocket up the meat, the dealing of cans like a set a Maw. Exit Rees. Gwe. 
Nay I pray peggers be quiet, tag your meats, you have trinkes enough I see, and get you home now good peggers.  1 Beg. 
Come your rogues, let's go tag and rag, cut and long tail, I am victualled for a month, God bye Madame, pray God Sir owen and you may fall out every day: Is there any harm in this now? heigh tri-lill, give the dog a loaf, fill the other pot you whore & God save the Duke. Exeunt.  Gwe. 
I thang you good peggers, ha ha, this is fine sport, by God is have peggers eat her fittales all day long.  Enter Sir Owen and Rees. Ow. 
Where is the sheer Rees? cod's plude where?  Ri. 
I beseech you sir be patient, I tell you the beggars have it.  Owen. 
Wad a pogs is do with peggers? wad is peggers do at Knight's house? Is beggars Sir Owen's guess Rees?  Ri. 
No Sir Owen they were my Ladies guess.  Owe 
Ha? you hungry rascals, where's her Lady Gwenthyan? Cod's plude beggars eat her shear and cousin marquess come.  Ri. 
I know not where my Lady is, but there's a beggar woman, ask her, for my Lady dealt her alms amongst them herself.  Owe 
A pox on your pegger whore, where's their bread and shear? Cod judge me I'll pegger you for fittels.  Gwe 
Hawld, hawld, hawld, what is mad now? here is her Lady: is her Lay pegger you rascals?  Ri. 
No sweet Madam, you are my Lady, a man is a man though he have but a hose on his head, and you are my Lady though you want a hood.  Owe 
How now? How now? ha ha, her Lady in tawny coat, and tags and rags so? where is her meat Gwenthian? where is her shear: her cousin marquess is here and great teal of Shentlefolkes and Laties and Lawdes pie and pie.  Gwe 
What care her for Laties or cousin too, fittles is awl gone.  Owe 
Owe gone? is her Lady mad?  Gwen 
No, our Lord is mad, you tear her ruffs and repatoes, and pridle here, is her pridled now? is her repatoed now? is her tear in pieces now? I'll tedge her pridle her Lady again, her cousin marquess shall eat no bread and meat here, and her Lady Gwenthyan's will go in tags and rags, and like pegger to vex and chafe sir Owen, see you now?  Owen 
A pox see her, Cod's plude what is do now Rees?  Ri. 
Speaker her fair Master for she looks wildly.  Owen. 
Is look wildly indeed, Gwenthian pray go in, and put praverie upon her pack and belly, Cod vudge me is pie new repatoes and ruffs for her Lady, pray do so, pray good Ladies.  Ri. 
Do good Madam.  GW. 
Cartho, crogge, Cartho crogge, Gwenthian scorns her flatteries, her Lady go no better Sir Owen hang herself.  Owe 
O mon jago, her Pritish plude is not endure it by Cod: a pox on her, put on her fine coats is pest, put on go to, put on.  Ri. 
Put off Sir Owen and she'll put on.  Gwe 
AS pox on her, is put one none, but go like pegger.  Owe 
Rees go mag more fire, and let have more shear.  Gwen 
Rees mag fire, and I'll scaled her like pig, see you now.  Ri. 
I shall be peppered how ere the market goes.  Owe 
Madge great teal of fires, or Sir Owen shall knog your ears.  GWEN. 
Make little teal of fire, or Gwenthian shall cut off your ears: and pob you, pob you Rees, see you now?  Ri. 
Hold good Madam, I see you and feel you too, you're able to set stones together by th'ears: I beseech you be quiet both, I'll make a fire Sir Owen to please you.  Owe 
Do Rees I'll pridle her Ladies well enough  Gwen 
Will you, you rascals?  Ri. 
Nay but hear you sweet Madam, I'll make a fire to please Sir Owen. and when it burns, I'll quench it to please you.  Enter Farnezie apace Far 
Ha ha ha, why how now Sir Owen, your Cousin the marquess and all your guests are at hand, and I see no meat towards.  Owe 
Is no meat toward, but her Laty is far untoward  Far 
What baggage is thy stands laughing thus?  Owe 
A pox on her, 'tis our Laty baggage tis Gwenthyan,  Fa. 
How my Lady Gwenthian? ha ha ha.  Enter marquess, julio, Onophria, Urcenze, Mario. Marq. 
You see Sir Owen we are soon invited,  
Where is your wife the Lady Gwenthian?  Owen. 
Is come pie and pie, Cod udge me Gwenthian pray put on your bravery and fine knags, and shame not Sir Owen, yes truly Gwenthian is come out pie and pie, Man grass worth whee cozen marquess, Man grass worth whee cozen jolia is welcome awl.  Fa 
Ha ha welcome, come come madam appear in your likeness, or rather in the likeness of another, my Lord you're best send back to your own Cooks, if you mean to set your teeth a work today.  Marq. 
Why Farneze what's the matter?  Fa. 
Nay there's no matter in it, the fire's quenched, the victuals given to beggars, Sir Owen's kitchen looks like the first Chaos, or like a broker's stall, full of odd ends: or like the end of some terrible battle, for upon every dresser lies legs and feathers, and heads of poor Capons and wild foul that have been drawn and quartered, and now mourn that their carcases are carried away: his are not rheumatic, for there's no spitting here lie fish in a pitiful pickle, there stands the coffins of pies, wherein the dead bodies of birds should have been buried, but their ghosts have forsaken their graves & walked abroad: the best sport is to see the scullions, some laughing, some crying, & whilst they wipe their eyes they black their faces, the Cooks curse her Lady, and some pray for our Lord.  Marq. 
Sir Owen Meredith is all this true?  Ow. 
True, et is true I warrant her pogs on her too true.  Ono. 
You told his Grace you had tamed your wife.  Owen. 
By Cod is tell her a lie then, her wise has pridled & tamed her indeed: cozen marquis pecause Grissel is made fool and turn away, Gwenthian mag fool of sir owen: is good? ha, is good?  Gwen. 
'tis lie cozen marquess, is terrible lie: rawsone en Ennoh Twewle, 'tis lie, 'tis lie, sit Owen tear her repatoes and ruffs, and pridle her Latie, & bid her hang herself, but is pridled I warrant her, is not Sir Owen?  owe. 
Adologg whee bethogh en Thlonigh, en Moyen due, Gwenthian.  Gwe. 
x vetho en Thlonigh, Gna watha gethla Tee.  Vrc. 
What says she sir Owen?  Owe. 
I pray & pray her for cod's love be quiet, 'sploud her say her will not be quiet, do what Sir owen can: mon due Gwenthian, Me knock the pen, en umbleth, pobe des, and pobe nose.  Gwe. 
Gwenogh olcha vessagh whee, en herawgh, ee.  Iu. 
Stand between them Farneze.  Far. 
You shall bob no nose here.  Gwe. 
En herawgh Ee? Me gravat the Legatee, athlan i'th' pendee, adroh ornymee on dictar, en hecar Ee.  Ono. 
Doth she threaten you Sir Owen? bind her to the peace.  owe. 
By Cod is threaten her indeed, her says she'll scratch out Sir Owen's eyes, and her frown upon her, a pogs on her nails.  Marq. 
Oh my dear Grissel, how much different  
Art thou to this cursed spirit here, I say  
My Grissel's virtues shine Sir Meredith.  
And Cousin Gwenthian come I'll have you friends,  
This dinner shall be saved, and all shall say,  
'tis done, because 'tis Gwenthyan's fasting day.  Gwe. 
Gwenthian scorns to be friends, her Lady will be Master Sir owen.  ow. 
By Cod i'll see her Latie hanged first: cozen marquess & cozens awl, pray tag time & stay here, Rees shall dress more fittels, and shall dine her in spite of her Lady: Cod 'sploud Rees Rees. Exit.  Gwe. 
Will you? Is try that pie and pie: Stethe whee lawer, Cousin marquess Stethe whee lawer Shentlemen, Gwenthian is not pridled so soon. Exit.  Marq. 
I'll see the peace kept sure, do what he can, I doubt his wife will prove the better man. Exit.  Iul. 
signor Mario you say nothing, how like you this interlude?  Mari. 
So well madam, that I rather with to play the beggar, than a kings part in it in Sir Owen's apparel.  Iul. 
Why this it is to be married, thus you see those that go to woo, go to woe, oh for a Drum to summon all my lovers, my suitors, my servants together.  Fa. 
I appear sweet mistress without summons.  Ono. 
So does Onophrio.  Vrc. 
So does Urcenze.  Iul. 
signor Emulo I see will not be seen without calling.  Far. 
No faith madam, he's blown up, no calling can serve him, he has ta'en another manner of calling upon him, and I hope repents the folly of his youth.  Iu. 
If he follow that vocation well, he'll prove wealthy in wit.  Vrc. 
He had need for his head is very poor.  Far. 
Well mistress we appear without drumming, what's your parley (and yet not so) your eyes are the drums that summons us.  Vrc. 
And your beauty the colours we fight under.  Ono. 
And the touch of your soft hand, arms us at all points with devotion to serve you, desire to obey you, and vows to love you.  Iu. 
Nay then in faith make me all soldier, mine eyes a drum, my beauty your colours, and my hand your armour: what becomes of the rest?  Far. 
It becomes us to rest, before we come to the rest, yet for a need we could turn you into an armoury: as for example, your lips (let me see) no point of war for your lips? can I put them to no use but kissing? oh yes, if you change them to shoot out unkind language to us that stand at your mercy, they are two culverins to destroy us.  Iul. 
That i'll try: my tongue shall give fire to my words presently.  All. 
Oh be more merciful fair julia.  Iul. 
Not I, would you have me pity you and punish myself? would you wish me to love? when love is so full of hate? how unlovely is love? how bitter? how full of blemishes, my Lord and brother insults our Grissel, that makes me glad, Gwenthyan curbs Sir Owen, that makes you glad, Sir Owen is mastered by his Mistress that makes you mad, poor Grissel is martyred by her Lord that makes you merry, for I always wish that a woman may never meet better bargains, when she'll thrust her sweet liberty into the hands of a man: fie upon you, you're nothing but wormwood, and oak, and glass: you have bitter tongues, hard hearts, and brittle faith.  Ono. 
Condemn us not till you try our loves.  Iul. 
Sweet servant speak not in this language of love, Gwenthyan's peevishness and Grissel's patience, make me here to defy that Ape Cupid, if you love stand upon his laws, I charge you leave it, I charge you neither to sigh for love nor speak of love, nor frown for hate: if you sigh i'll mock you, if you speak i'll stop mine ears, if you frown i'll bend my fist.  Far. 
Then you'll turn warrior in deed.  Iul. 
Had I not need encountering with such enemies? but say will you obey and follow me or disobey, and I'll fly you.  Ono. 
I obey since it is your pleasure.  Vrc. 
I obey though I taste no pleasure in it.  Farn. 
I obey to, but so God help me mistress I shall show you a fair pair of heels and cry a new Mistress anew, if any pitiful creature will have me.  Iul. 
Better lost than found if you be so wavering.  Enter marquess Lepido, Sir owen, Gwenthyan brave, and Furio. Marq. 
Furio hie thee to old Ianicola's,  
Charge him, his daughter Grissel, and his Son  
To come to Court, to do such office,  
Of duty to our marriage, as shall like  
Our state to lay upon them.  Iul. 
Oh my Lord,  
Vex not poor Grissel more, alas her heart,  Marq. 
Tut tut, i'll have my will and tame her pride,  
I'll make her be a servant to my bride,  
julia I'll bridle her.  Iul. 
You do her wrong.  Marq. 
Sister correct that error, come Sir owen,  
Is not this better music than your brawls?  ow. 
Yes as Cod udg me is: how cozen julia, is out a cry friends now, Gwenthyan is laugh & be ferie patience now Sir Owen kiss her Lady, a great teal now: see else?  Far. 
ay but Sir owen, the kissing her Lady is no mirth to us, if we kiss the post.  owe. 
Owe her cozen marquess has terrible mighty news for tell her, or else is made ready a great banquet at home for awl, pray come home, is all ready for her, her Lady say not bopeep now: but first hear her cozen marquess news.  Marq. 
julia and Gentlemen these are the news,  
Brought on the wings of haste and happiness,  
By trusty Lepido our endeared brother,  
Is hard at hand who in his company,  
Brings my fair second choice a worthy bride,  
Attended by the States of Pavia,  
she's daughter to the Duke of Brandenburg,  
Now shall no subjects envious soul repine,  
And call her base whom now I will make mine,  
None shall upbraid me now, (as they have done)  
That I will slay a daughter and a Son,  
Grissel's, two babes are dead, and killed by scorn,  
But that fair issue that shall now be borne  
Shall make a satisfaction of all wrongs.  
Come gentlemen we will go meet this train,  
Let every one put on a smiling brow,  
Sir Owen I will have your company,  
And yours fair cozen: well remembered to,  
Bring your three wands Sir Owen to the Court,  
Though Gwenthyan look with a smother eye,  
I'll teach you how to win the sovereignty.  Ow. 
Is glad of that, ha, ha, ha, tag heed of wands  
Lady,  Gwen. 
Tag heed of nails knight,  Marq. 
We play the unthrifts in consuming time,  
Though your cursed wife make some afraid to woe  
Yet I'll woe once more and be married to.  Ow. 
Cod udge me Sir Owen would hang before her marry once more, if I were another Patcheler: marry owe. Exeunt omnes.  Enter Laureo reading and Babulo with him. Bab. 
Come I have left my work to see what matins you mumble to yourself, faith Laureo I would you could leave this latin, and fall to make baskets, you think 'tis enough if at dinner you tell us a tale of Pigmies, and then munch up our victuals, but that fits not us: or the history of the well Helicon, & then drink up our bear we cannot live upon it.  Lau. 
A Scholar doth disdain to spend his spirits, Upon such base employments as hand labours.  Ba. 
Then you should disdain to eat us out of house& home: you stand all day peeping into an ambrie there, and talk of monsters and miracles, and countries to no purpose: before I fell to my trade I was a traveller, and found more in one year than you can by your poets and paltries in seven years.  Lau 
What wonders hast thou seen, which are not here?  Ba. 
Oh God, I pity thy capacity good scholar: as a little wind makes a sweet ball smell, so a crumb of learning makes your trade proud: what wonders? wonders not of nine days, but 1599 I have seen under john Prester and Tamer Cams people, with heads like Dogs.  Lau 

Alas of such there are too many here,  
All Italy is full of them that snarl,  
And bay and bark at other men's abuse  
Yet live themselves like beasts in all abuse.   Bab 
It's true I know many of that complexion, but I have seen many without heads, having their eyes nose and mouths in their breasts.  Lau 

Why that's no wonder, every street with us,  
Swarms full of such,   Ba. 
I could never see them.  Lau 

Dost though not see our wine-bellie drunkards reel?  
Our fat fed gluttons wallow in the streets,  
Having no eyes but to behold their guts,  
No heads but brainless scalps, no sense to smell,  
But where full feasts abound in all excess  
These Epimoei be our Epicures.   Ba. 
I have seen monsters of that colour to: but what say you to them that have but one leg, and yet will out run a horse?  Lau 

such are our bankrupts and our fugitives,  
Scarce having one good leg, or one good limb,  
Out run their creditors, and those they wrong.   Ba. 
Mass 'tis true there was a cripple in our village, beyond Venice, and his Creditors with their best legs could never since take him, but let me descend& grow lower and lower, what say you to the little little pigmies, no higher than a boy's gig and yet they tug& fight with the long necked Cranes.  Lau 

Oh poor and wretched people are the Pigmies,  
Oh rich oppressors the devouring Cranes,  
Within my father's house I'll show thee Pigmies,  
Thou seest my sister Grissel she's a Pigmy.   Ba. 
she's a pretty little woman indeed, but too big for a Pigmy  Lau 
I am a Pigmy  Ba. 
Fie fie, worse and worse.  Lau 
My old father's one.  Ba. 
No no no, Giants all.  Lau 

The marquess is the rich devouring Crane,  
That makes us less than Pigmies, worse than worms.   Enter janicola with an Angling rod, Grissel with a reel, and Furio Ba. 
Yonder they come and a Crane with them.  Fur 
janicola, Leave your fish-catching, and you your reeling, you and you sirrah you must trudge to Court presently.  jan 

Must we again be harried from content?  
To live in a more grievous banishment.   Lau 

Me thinks my Lord the marquess should be pleased  
With marriage of another, and forbear,  
With trumpets to proclaim this injury,  
And to vex Grissel with such a lawless wrong,   Gri 

'tis no vexation, for what pleaseth him,  
Is the contentment of his handmaides heart.   Fur 
Will you go?  jan 

Yes we will go,  
To fly from happiness to find out woe.   Ba. 
Good Furio vanish, we have no appetite, tell your Master, Clowns are not for the Court, we'll keep Court ourselves, for what do Courtiers but we do the like: you eat good cheer, and we eat good bread and cheese: you drink wine, and we strong bear: at night you are as hungry slaves as you were at noon, why so are we: you go to bed, you can but sleep, why and so do we: in the morning you rise about eleven of the clock, why there we are your betters, for we are going before you: you wear silks, and we sheepskins, innocence carries it away in the world to come, and therefore vanish good Furio, torment us not good my sweet Furio.  Fur. 
Ass I'll have you snaffled,  Ba. 
It may be so, but then Furio I'll kick.  Fu. 
Will you go, or shall I force you?  Gri. 
You need not, for I'll run to serve my Lord,  
Or if I wanted legs, upon my knees  
I'll creep to Court so I may see him pleased,  
Then courage Father.  Ian. 
Well said patience,  
Thy virtues arm mine age with confidence,  
Come son, bondmen must serve, shall we away?  Lau. 
ay, ay, but this shall prove a fatal day.  Gri. 
Brother, for my sake do not wrong yourself.  Lau. 
Shall I in silence bury all our wrongs?  Gri. 
Yes when your words cannot get remedy,  
Learn of me Laureo I that share most woe,  
Am the least moved, father lean on mine arm,  
Brother lead you the way, whilst wretched I  
Uphold old age, and cast down misery.  Fu. 
Away.  Ba, 
Old M. you have fished fair & catched a frog. Exeunt  Enter marquess, Pavia Lepido, Onophrio, Urcenze, Farnezi, and Mario. Marq. 
Lords as you love our State, affect our loves,  
Like of your own content, respect your lives,  
Urge us no further, Gualther is resolved,  
To marry the half heir of Brandenburg,  
My brother Pavia with no small expense,  
Hath brought the Princess out of Germany.  
Together with Prince Gualther her young brother,  
Now they are come, learn of the rising Sun,  
Scatter the cloudy mists of discontent,  
As he disperseth vapours with his beams.  Pau. 
Brother, there is no eye but brightly shines,  
Gladness doth lodge in your Nobles looks,  
Nor have they any cause to cloud their brows.  Enter Sir Owen, Gwenthian, and Rees with wandes: Far 
Oh here comes Sir Owen, and my Lady patience, come there.  owen. 
Tardaugh Cousin marquess & Lawrdes awl.  Mar. 
Welcome good cousin Gwenthian, will you please Go in, and lend your presence to my bride?  Gwe. 
cousin, 'tis her intentions so to do, but I swear and I were Grissel, I would pull her eyes out, & she were as many Sharmaines daughter is there be cows in Cambria and that is above twenty score and a lidle more, you know Sir Owen?  Ow. 
Yes truly above a dozen more is warrant her.  Marq. 
Grissel is patient madam, be you pleased.  Gwen. 
Well, and she be so baselies minded 'tis well, but I know whad I know Sir Owen here thinks to make Gwenthyan's so patience, sir owen 'tis awl in veins, well I go to her Brides. Exit.  Ow. 
You prade and you taug Gwenthyan's, but I made you put on parrels for awl your taug and prade: Rees, where's Rees spring the wands here Rees.  Ri. 
They are here sir, in the twinkling of an eye.  owe. 
cousin, when her weddings are done and at leisures, I will learn your medicines to tame shrews.  Marq. 
You shall anon good Cousin Meredith.  Ow. 
Stand by Rees, walk in the halls among the servingman's, keep her wands till I call, hear you now?  Inter Furio. Ri. 
Yes Sir. Exit.  Marq. 
Furio are Grissel and the other come?  Fur. 
Yes, they are come.  Marq. 
Are they employed according to our charge?  Fu. 
They are.  Marq. 
How does her brother take it?  Fu. 
III.  Marq. 
How her Father?  Fu. 
Well.  Marq. 
How herself?  Fu. 
Better.  Marq. 
Furio, go call out Grissel from the Bride.  Fu. 
I will. Exit Furio.  Farn. 
It's pity that fellow was not made a Soldier, he should have but a word and a blow at his hands.  Enter lanicola and Babulo carrying coals, Laureo with wood, Grissill with wood. Ba. 
Master go you but under the cowl-staff, Babulo can bear all, staff basket and all.  Ian. 
It is the marquis pleasure I must drudge,  
Load me I pray thee, I am borne to bear.  Lau. 
But I'll no longer bear a logger head,  
Thus I'll cast down his fuel in despite,  
So, though my heart be sad, my shoulder's light.  Gri. 
Alas what do you brother, see you not  
Our dread Lord yonder▪ come perform his will,  
Oh in a subject this is too too ill.  Marq. 
What mean'st thou fellow to cast down thy load?  Lau. 
I have cast down my burden not my load,  
The load of your gross wrongs lies here like lead.  Marq. 
What fellow is this?  Gris. 
Your handmaid Grissel's brother,  Marq. 
Take him away into the Posters lodge,  Lau. 
Lodge me in dungeons, I will still exclaim,  
On Gualther's cursed acts and hated name. Exit. with Marq.  Marq. 
Grissel Take you his load and bear it in.  Ba. 
Oh tiger minded monstrous marquess, make thy Lady a collier?  Marq. 
What's that that villain prates so?  Bab. 
God bless the noble marquis,  Marq. 
Sirrah take you his coals, Grissel depart,  
Return but bear that first,  Gris. 
With all my heart. Exeunt. Gris. and Ba. grinning at him.  Marq. 
Stay you janicola, I have heard you sing,  jan 
I could have sung when I was free from care.  Marq. 
What grief can in your aged bosom lie?  Ian. 
Grief that I am ungracious in your eye,  Ba. 
Then would he not desire your company.  Enter Grissill. Marq. 
janicola here is a bridal song,  
Play you the Lark to greet my blessed sun,  
Grissel are you returned? play you the morning,  
To lead forth Gratiana my bright bride  
Go in and wait on her janicola.  
Sing Hymeneus hymns, Music I say. Exit. Grissill.  Ow. 
Tawsone Tawsone cousins aul, and here harmonies and sol faes.  The Song. 
Song. Beauty arise, show forth thy glorious shining,  
Thine eyes feed Love, for them he standeth pining,  
Honour and youth attend to do their duty,  
To thee (their only sovereign) Beauty.  
Beauty arise, whilst we thy servants sing,  
jove to Hymen wedlock jocund King.  
joto Hymen lo lo sing.  
of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen King.  
Beauty arise, beauty arise, thy glorious lights display,  
Whilst we sing so, glad to see this day,  
Io Io Io Hymen Io Io sing,  
Of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen King.  Marq. 
Art thou as glad in soul as in thy song?  Ian. 
Who can be glad when he endureth wrong?  Ow. 
As Cod udge me Ian Niclas is honest man, he does not flatter and sembles, but tell his intentions: owe more melodies, owe here come her new pride.  Music sounds, enter Grissill alone, after her the marquis Son and daughter, julia, Gwenthian and other Ladies, and Mario and Furio. Marq. 
Salute my beauteous love.  All. 
All joy betide to Gratiana our dear marquis Bride.  Marq. 
Bring me a crown of gold to crown my love,  
A wreath of willow for despised Grissel.  Gri. 
Grissel is not despised in your eye,  
Sithence you name her name so gently.  Ow. 
Gwenthyan's there's wives, there's patient wives  Gwe 
Fuh fuh is fools, Tawsone is arrant pobie fools.  Marq. 
Grissel place you this crown upon her head,  
Put these embroidered slippers on her feet.  
'tis well, deliver me your wedding ring,  
Circle her finger with it, now stand by,  
Art thou content with all?  Gris. 
Content with all.  Marq. 
My Bride is Crowned, now tell me all of you,  
Which of you ever saw my love before?  
What is her name, her birth, place, or estate,  Lep. 
Till now I never beheld her beauty.  Ono. 
Nor I.  Vrc. 
Trust me nor I.  Far. 
By my troth nor I.  Mari. 
We hear that she was borne in Germany,  
And half heir to the Duke of Brandenburg.  Marq. 
You all hear this, and all think this?  All. 
We do.  Marq 
Then Fu. stand thou forth, Lords in his breast  
A loyal servants true soul doth rest,  
Furio shall be appareled in a rob.  Fur. 
I shall not become it.  Marq. 
Some that are great put robes on Parasites,  
Mario, Lepido come you two hither,  
Are not you richly clad? have I done so?  Both. 
What means your grace by this?  Marq. 
Graceless, have done,  
Truth, seldom dwells in a still talking tongue,  
Furio bring Laureo from the porter's lodge,  
Take in janicola, and cloth them both  
In rich habiliments, they shall awhile  
Be flattered with false fortunes wanton smiles.  Ia. 
Fortune can do no more than she hath done,  
They that are marked to woe, to woe must run. Exit Futio & janicola.  Marq. 
How do you like my Bride?  Gri. 
I think her blessed.  
To have the love of such a noble Lord.  Marq. 
You flatter me.  Grissi. 
Indeed I speak the truth,  
Only I prostrately beseech your grace,  
That you consider of her tender years,  
Which as a flower in spring may soon be nipped,  
With the least frost of cold adversity.  Marq 
Why are not you then nipped? you still seem fresh  
As if adversities cold icy hand,  
Had never laid his fingers on your heart.  Gri. 
It never touched my heart, adversity  
Dwells still with them that dwells with misery,  
But mild content hath eased me of that yoke,  
Patience hath borne the bruise and I the stroke.  Enter Furio, janicola, and Laureo, striving about attire. Lau. 
Give him his silks they shall not touch my back  Marq. 
What strife is there, what aileth Laureo?  Lau. 
I will not wear proud trappings like a beast,  
Yet hourly feel the scornful rider's spur,  Marq. 
Cloth old janicola in rich attire,  Ian. 
Do, load me, for to bear is my desire.  Marq. 
Do ye repine, nay then i'll vex you more,  
Grissel I will receive this second wife  
From none but from thy hands: come give her me,  Gris. 
I here present you with an endless bliss,  
Rich honour, beauteous virtue, virtuous youth,  
Long live my Lord with her contentedly.  owe. 
Marg patience there Gwenthyan see you thade.  Marq. 
Grissel dost thou deliver me this maid,  
As an untainted flower which I shall keep,  
Despite of envies canker, till the rust,  
Of all consuming death finish her life?  Gri. 
I do my dear Lord, and as willingly  
As I delivered up my maiden youth.  Marq. 
What says janicola?  Ia. 
I say but thus,  
Great men are Gods, and they have power over us,  Marq. 
Grissel hold fast the right hand of my bride,  
Thou wear'st a willow wreath and she a crown,  
True bride take thou the crown and she the wreath,  Mari. 
My gracious Lord you do mistake yourself.  Marq. 
Peace peace, thou sycophant Grissel receive  
Large interests for thy love and sufferance.  
Thou gav'st me this fair maid, I in exchange,  
Return thee her: and this young Gentleman  
Thy Son and daughter kiss with patience,  
And breathe thy virtuous spirit into their souls.  Gwe. 
Owe Sir Owen mark you now, the man is yielded to her Latie, learn now Sir owen learn, learn Knight your duty, see you thade?  Marq. 
Why stands my wronged Grissel thus amazed?  Gris. 
joy fear, love hate, hope doubts encompass me.  
Are these my children I supposed slain?  Ia. 
Are these my nephews that were murdered?  Gri. 
Blessing distill on you like morning dew,  
My soul knit to your souls, knows you are mine.  Ma. 
They are, & I am thine: Lords look not strange,  
These two are they, at whose births envies tongue,  
Darted envenomed stings, these are the fruit  
Of this most virtuous tree, that multitude,  
That many headed beasts, nipped their sweet hearts,  
With wrongs, with bitter wrongs, all you have wronged her,  
myself have done most wrong, for I did try  
To break the temper of true constancy:  
But these whom all thought murdered are alive,  
My Grissel lives, and in the book of Fame,  
All worlds in gold shall register her name.  Le. Mar. 
Most dreaded Lord.  Marq. 
Arise flatterers get you gone, Exeunt Lep. Ma.  
Your souls are made of black confusion.  
Father janicola.  Ia. 
Oh pardon me,  
Though dumb betwixt my grief and joy I be.  Marq. 
Who stands thus sad, what brother Laureo?  Eau. 
Pardon me my gracious Lord, for now I see,  
That Scholars with weak eyes, poor on their books,  
But want true souls to judge on Majesty:  
None else but Kings can know the hearts of Kings,  
Hence forth my pride shall fly with humbler wings.  Marq. 
Our pardon and our love circle thee round,  
Let's all to banquet, mirth our cares confound.  Ow. 
Hold, hold, hold, banquet? if you banquet so, Sir Owen is like to have sheer, her Latie here is cog a hoop now at this, pray Cousin keep your promise, Rees the wands Rees, your medicines and fine trigs to tame shrews.  Marq. 
Furio where be the wands that I bound up?  Fur. 
Here my Lord.  Marq. 
I wreathed them then sir Owen, and you see  
They still continue so, wreath you these three.  Ow. 
Owe wind them, yes is wind them and mag good mighty cudgel, to tame and knog her Latie, and she prawle, or cry, or give preade and meat to peggers, or tear ponds, by God is well remembered too, Cousin you promised to help her to her Duckegs, for all her paper and ponds is torn?  Mar. 
And I will keep my promise, wreath your wands  Owen. 
Owe God's lid mine is stubborn like Gwenthyan's, God's plude see it preakes in snipsnap pieces, what now Cousin?  Marq. 
But cozen these you see did gently bow,  
I tried my Grissel's patience when 'twas green,  
Like a young Over, and I moulded it  
Like wax to all impressions: married men  
That long to tame their wives must curb them in,  
Before they need a bridle, than they'll prove  
All Grissel's full of patience, full of love,  
Yet that old trial must be tempered so,  
lest seeking to tame them they master you.  Owen. 
By God is true as Pistol and Gospel, oh true out a cry.  Marq. 
But you Sir Owen giving her the head,  
As you gave liberty to those three wands,  
she'll break as those do if you bend her now,  
And then you're passed all help, for if you strive,  
You'll gain as gamesters do that seldom thrive.  owe. 
What shall do to her Latie then? is pest run away cozen, or knog her brains out? for is as faliant as Mars if I be anger.  Iul. 
That were a shame either to run away from a woman or to strike her, your best Physic Sir Owen, is to wear a velvet hand, leaden ears, and no tongue, you must not fight howsoever she quarrels, you must be deaf whensoever she brawls, and dumb when yourself should brabble: take this caudle next your heart every morning, and if your wife be not patient, the next remedy that I know is, to buy your winding sheet.  Gwe. 
cousin marquess, cozen julia, and Lawrds and Laties all, it shall not need as her cozen has tried Grissel, so Gwenthian has Sir Owen,  Ow. 
Owe, by Cod is thought should pull her down, ah ha.  Gwe. 
Is not pulled down neither, but sir Owen shall be her head, and is sorry has anger her head and mag it ache, but pray good Knight be not proud & triumph too much & freade her Latie down, God udge me will tag her will again do what her can.  Ow. 
By Cod is love her out a cry now, sir owen could tame her before, but Prittish ploude scorns to side with Laties, yes faith scorns out a cry, a pogs on't 'tis nought: Gwenthian shall no more be called Gwenthian but patient Grissel, ah ha is.  Marq. 
Our joys are complete, forward to our feast, Patience hath won the prize and now is blessed.  Iu. 
Nay brother your pardon awhile: beside ourselves there are a number here, that have beheld Grissel's patience, you own trials, and Sir Owen's sufferance, Gwenthyan's frowardness, these Gentlemen lovertine and myself a hater of love: amongst this company I trust there are some maiden bachelors, and virgin maidens, those that live in that freedom & love it, those that know the war of marriage and hate it, set their hands to my bill, which is rather to die a maid and lead Apes in hell, than to live a wife and be continually in hell.  Gwen. 
julia by your leaves a lidle while, you taug and you prabble about shidings in marriages, and you abuse young men's and damsels, & frayed them from good sports and honourable states: but hear you now, awl that be sembled here, know you that discords mag good music, and when loners fall out is soon fallen in, and 'tis good you knaw: pray you all be married, for wedlock increases peoples and cities, awl you then that have husbands that you would pridle, set your hands to Gwenthyan's pill, for 'tis not fid that poor women's should be kept always under.  Marq. 
Since julia of the maids, and Gwenthian  
Of froward wives, entreat a kind applaud,  
See Grissel among all this multitude,  
Who will be friend to gentle patience?  Ow. 
Ha ha ha, Grissel is weary, pray let sir owen speag Grissel is patient, and her cozen is patient, therefore is speage for two, God's plude you see her Latie is spride of buttery, yet sir owen tame her and tear her ruffs, & mag her cry and put ou her parrels, and say is sorry Sir owen, mark that well: if sir owen was not patient, her Latie had not been pridled, if Grissel had not been patient her cozen marquess had not been pridled: well now if you love sir Owen's Latie, I hope you love sir owen too, or is grow mighty angry, sir owen love you as God udge me out a cry, a terrible feal, do you hear now, then pray awl that have crabbed husbands and cannot mend them, as Grissel's had, and awl that have fixen wives, and yet is tame her well enough as sir owen does, & awl that have scolds as sir owen does, and awl that love fair Laties as sir owen does, to said her two hands to his pill, and by God shall have sir Owen's herd and soul in his pellie: and so God save you all. Man grass wortha whee, Man grass wortha whee. God night cousin's awl. Exeunt.  
FINIS.