THE CHANCES.  

Actus primus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter two Serving-men, Peter and Anthony. Peter. 
I Would we were removed from this Town, Anthony  
That we might taste some quiet: for mine own part,  
I'm almost melted with continual trotting  
After inquiries, dreams, and revelations,  
Of who knows, whom or where? serve wenching soldiers,  
That know no other Paradise but Plackets:  
I'll serve a Priest in Lent, first and eat Bell-ropes.  Anth. 
Thou art the froward'st fool—  Pet. 
Why good tame Anthony?  
Tell me but this: to what end came we hither?  An. 
To wait upon our Masters.  Pet. 
But how Anthony?  
Answer me that; resolve me there good Anthony?  An. 
To serve their uses.  Pet. 
Show your uses Anthony.  An. 
To be employed in any thing.  Pet. 
No Anthony,  
Not any thing I take it; nor that thing  
We travel to discover, like new Islands;  
A salt itch serve such uses; in things of moment,  
Concerning things I grant ye, not things errant,  
Sweet Ladies things, and things to thank the Surgeon:  
In no such things, sweet Anthony, put case—  An. 
Come, come, all will be mended: this invisible woman  
Of infinite report for shape and virtue,  
That bred us all this trouble to no purpose,  
They are determined now no more to think on,  
But fall close to their studies.  Pet. 
Was there ever  
Men known to run mad with report before?  
Or wonder after that they know not where  
To find? or if found, how to enjoy? are men's brains  
Made nowadays of Malt, that their affections  
Are never sober? but like drunken people  
Founder at every new fame? I do believe too  
That men in love are ever drunk, as drunken men  
Are ever loving.  An. 
Prithee be thou sober,  
And know, that they are none of those, not guilty  
Of the least vanity of love, only a doubt  
Fame might too far report, or rather flatter  
The graces of this woman, made them curious  
To find the truth, which since they find so blotted  
And locked up from their searches, they are now settled  
To give the wonder ever.  Pet. 
Would they were settled  
To give me some new shoes too: for I'll be sworn  
These are e'en worn out to the reasonable souls  
In their good worship's business: and some sleep  
Would not do much amiss, unless they mean  
To make a Bellman on me: and what now  
Mean they to study, Anthony, Moral Philosophy  
After their mar-all women?  An. 
Mar a fool's head.  Pet. 
'Twill mar two fools heads, & they take not heed,  
Besides the Giblets to 'em.  An. 
Will you walk Sir,  
And talk more out of hearing? your fool's head  
May chance to find a wooden nightcap else.  Pet. 
I never lay in any. Enter Don John and Fredrick.  An. 
Then leave your lying,  
And your blind Prophesying: here they come,  
You had best tell them as much.  Pet. 
I am no tell-tale. Exeunt.  John. 
I would we could have seen her though: for sure  
She must be some rare creature, or report lies,  
All men's reports too,  Fred. 
I could well wish I had seen her;  
But since she is so concealed, so beyond venture  
Kept and preserved from view, so like a Paradise,  
Placed where no knowledge can come near her; so guarded  
As 'twere impossible, though known to reach her,  
I have made up my belief.  Joh. 
Hang me from this hour  
If I more think upon her, or believe her,  
But as she came a strong report unto me,  
So the next Fame shall lose her.  Fred. 
'Tis the next way:  
But whither are you walking?  Joh. 
My old round  
After my meat, and then to bed.  Fred. 
'Tis healthful.  Joh. 
Will not you stir?  Fred. 
I have a little business.  Jo. 
Upon my life this Lady still—  Fr. 
Then you will lose it.  Jo. 
Pray let's walk together.  Fr. 
Now I cannot.  Jo. 
I have something to impart.  Fr. 
An hour hence  
I will not miss to meet you.  Jo. 
Where?  Fr. 
i'th' high street;  
For not to lie, I have a few Devotions  
To do first, than I am yours.  Jo. 
Remember. Exeunt.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Petruchio, Antonio, and two Gent. Ant. 
Cut his windpipe, I say.  1 Gent. 
Fie Antonio.  Ant. 
Or knock his brains out first, then forgive him  
If you do thrust, be sure it be to th' hilts,  
A Surgeon may see through him.  1. 
You are too violent,  2. 
Too open, undiscreet.  Pet. 
Am I not ruined?  
The honour of my house cracked? my blood poisoned?  
My credit, and my name?  2. 
Be sure it be so,  
Before ye use this violence. Let not doubt,  
And a suspecting anger so much sway ye,  
Your wisdom may be questioned.  Ant. 
I say kill him,  
And then dispute the cause; cut off what may be,  
And what is, shall be safe.  2. 
Hang up a true man,  
Because 'tis possible he may be thievish:  
Alas, is this good Justice?  Petr. 
I know as certain,  
As day must come again; as clear as truth.  
And open as belief can lay it to me,  
That I am basely wronged, wronged above recompense;  
Maliciously abused, blasted for ever  
In name and honour, lost to all remembrance,  
But what is smeared, and shameful; I must kill him,  
Necessity compels me.  1. 
But think better  Petr. 
There is no other cure left: yet witness with me  
All that is fair in man, all that is noble,  
I am not greedy of this life I seek for,  
Nor thirst to shed man's blood; and would 'twere possible  
I wish it with my soul, so much I tremble  
To offend the sacred Image of my Maker,  
My sword could only kill his crimes: no 'tis honour,  
Honour, my noble friends, that idol honour,  
That all the world now worships, not Petruchio  
Must do this justice.  Ant. 
Let it once be done,  
And 'tis no matter, whether you, or honour,  
Or both be accessary.  2. 
Do you weigh Petruchio  
The value of the person, power, and greatness,  
And what this spark may kindle?  Petr. 
To perform it,  
So much I am tied to reputation,  
And credit of my house, let it raise wild-fires,  
That all this Dukedom smoke, and storms that toss me  
Into the storms of everlasting ruin,  
Yet I must through; if ye dare side me.  Ant. 
Dare?  Petr. 
You're friends indeed, if not.  2. 
Here's none flies from you,  
Do it in what design ye please, we'll back ye.  1. 
But then be sure ye kill him.  2. 
Is the cause  
So mortal, nothing but his life?  Pet. 
Believe me,  
A less offence has been the desolation  
Of a whole name.  1. 
No other way to purge it?  Pet. 
There is, but never to be hoped for,  2. 
Think an hour more,  
And if then ye find no safer road to guide ye,  
we'll set up our rests too.  Ant. 
Mine's up already,  
And hang him for my part,  
Goes less than life.  2. 
If we see noble cause, 'tis like our swords  
May be as free and forward as your words. Exeunt.   

Scene. 3.  Enter Don John. John. 
The civil order of this Town Bellonia  
Makes it beloved, and honoured of all travellers,  
As a most safe retirement in all troubles;  
Beside the wholesome seat, and noble temper  
Of those minds that inhabit it, safely wise,  
And to all strangers virtuous: But I see  
My admiration has drawn night upon me,  
And longer to expect my friend may pull me  
Into suspicion of too late a stirrer,  
Which all good Governments are jealous of.  
I'll home, and think at liberty: yet certain,  
'Tis not so far night as I thought; for see,  
A fair house yet stands open, yet all about it  
Are close, and no lights stirring: there may be foul play:  
I'll venture to look in: if there be knaves,  
I may do a good office. Woman within.  Within. 
Signieur?  John. 
What? how is this?  Within. 
Signieur Fabritio?  John. 
I'll go nearer.  Within. 
Fabritio?  Joh. 
This is a woman's tongue, here may be good done.  Within. 
Who's there?  
Fabritio?  Joh. 
I.  Within. 
Where are ye?  Joh. 
Here.  Within. 
O come, for heaven's sake!  Joh. 
I must see what this means,  Enter Woman with a child. Within. 
I have stayed this long hour for you, make no noise,  
For things are in strange trouble: here, be secret,  
'Tis worth your care; begone now; more eyes watch us,  
Then may be for our safeties.  Joh. 
Hark ye?  Within. 
Peace: good night.  Joh. 
She is gone, and I am loaden; fortune for me;  
It weighs well, and it feels well; it may chance  
To be some pack of worth: by th' mass 'tis heavy;  
If it be Coin or Jewels, 'tis worth welcome:  
I'll ne'er refuse a fortune: I am confident  
'Tis of no common price: now to my lodging:  
If it hit right, I'll bless this night. Exit.   

Scene 4.  Enter Fredrick. Fred. 
'Tis strange,  
I cannot meet him; sure he has encountered  
Some light o' love or other, and there means  
To play at In and In for this night. Well Don John,  
If you do spring a leak, or get an itch,  
Till ye claw off your curled pate, thank your night-walks:  
You must be still a-boot-haling: one round more,  
Though it be late, I'll venture to discover ye,  
I do not like your outleaps.   

Scene 5.  Enter Duke, and 3. Gentlemen. Duke. 
Welcome to Town, are ye all fit?  1. 
To point Sir,  Duke. 
Where are the horses?  2. 
Where they were appointed.  Duk. 
Be private, and whatsoever fortune  
Offer itself, let's stand sure.  3. 
Fear not us,  
'Ere ye shall be endangered, or deluded,  
we'll make a black night on't.  Du. 
No more, I know it;  
You know your Quarters?  1. 
Will you go alone sir?  Du. 
Ye shall not be far from me, the least noise  
Shall bring ye to my rescue.  2. 
We are counselled. Exeunt.   

Scene 6.  Enter Don John. john. 
Was ever man so paid for being curious?  
Ever so bobbed for searching out adventures,  
As I am? did the devil lead me? must I needs be peeping  
Into men's houses where I had no business,  
And make myself a mischief? 'Tis well carried;  
I must take other men's occasions on me,  
And be I know not whom: most finely handled:  
What have I got by this now? what's the purchase?  
A piece of evening Arras work, a child,  
Indeed an Infidel: this comes of peeping:  
A lump got out of laziness; good white bread  
Let's have no bawling with ye: 'sdeath, have I  
Known Wenches thus long, all the ways of wenches,  
Their snares and subtleties? have I read over  
All their School learnings, dived into their quiddits,  
And am I now bumfiddled with a Bastard?  
Fetched over with a Card of five, and in mine old days,  
After the dire massacre of a million  
Of Maidenheads? caught the common way, i'th' night too  
Under another's name, to make the matter  
Carry more weight about it? well Don john,  
You will be wiser one day, when ye have purchased  
A bevy of these Butter prints together,  
With searching out concealed iniquities,  
Without commission: why, it would never grieve me,  
If I had got this Gingerbread: never stirred me,  
So I had had a stroke for't: 't had been Justice  
Then to have kept it; but to raise a dairy  
For other men's adulteries, consume myself in candles,  
And scouring works, in Nurse's Bells and Babies,  
Only for charity, for mere I thank you,  
A little troubles me: the least touch for it,  
Had but my breeches got it, had contented me.  
Whose e'er it is, sure 't had a wealthy mother,  
For 'tis well clothed, and if I be not cozened,  
Well lined within: to leave it here were barbarous,  
And ten to one would kill it: a more sin  
Than his that got it: well, I will dispose on't,  
And keep it, as they keep deaths heads in rings,  
To cry, memento to me; no more peeping.  
Now all the danger is to qualify  
The good old gentlewoman, at whose house we live,  
For she will fall upon me with a Catechism  
Of four hours long: I must endure all;  
For I will know this mother: Come good wonder,  
Let you and I be jogging: your starved treble  
Will waken the rude watch else: All that be  
Curious night-walkers, may they find my fee. Exit.   

Scaen. 7.  Enter Fredrick, Fred. 
Sure he's gone home:  
I have beaten all the purlieus,  
But cannot bolt him: if he be a bobbing  
'Tis not my care can cure him: Tomorrow morning  
I shall have further knowledge from a surgeon's—  
Where he lies moored, to mend his leaks.  Enter Constantia. Con, 
I'm ready,  
And through a world of dangers am flown to ye.  
Be full of haste and care, we are undone else:  
Where are your people? which way must we travel?  
For heaven sake stay not here sir.  Fred. 
What may this prove?  Con. 
Alas I am mistaken, lost, undone.  
For ever perished. Sir, for heaven sake tell me,  
Are ye a Gentleman?  Fred. 
I am.  Con. 
Of this place?  Fred. 
No, borne in Spain.  Con. 
As ever you loved honour,  
As ever your desires may gain their ends,  
Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit,  
For I am forced to trust ye.  Fred. 
Y'ave charmed me,  
Humanity and honour bids me help ye;  
And if I fail your trust.—  Con. 
The time's too dangerous  
To stay your protestations: I believe ye,  
Alas, I must believe ye: From this place,  
Good noble Sir, remove me instantly,  
And for a time, where nothing but yourself,  
And honest conversation may come near me,  
In some secure place settle me. What I am,  
And why thus boldly I commit my credit  
Into a stranger's hand, the fears and dangers,  
That force me to this wild course, at more leisure  
I shall reveal unto you.  Fred. 
Come, be hearty,  
He must strike through my life that takes ye from me.  Exi  

Scene 8.  Enter Petruchio, Antonio, and 2. Gent. Petr. 
He will sure come. Are ye well armed?  Ant. 
Never fear us.  
Here's that will make 'em dance without a Fiddle.  Petr. 
We are to look for no weak foes, my friends,  
Nor unadvised ones.  Ant. 
Best gamesters make the best game,  
We shall fight close and handsome then.  1 Gent. 
Antonio,  
You are a thought too bloody.  Ant. 
Why? all Physicians  
And penny Almanacs allow the opening  
Of veins this month: why do ye talk of bloody?  
What come we for, to fall to cuffs for apples?  
What, would ye make the Cause a Cudgel quarrel?  
On what terms stands this man? is not his honour  
Opened to his hand, and picked out like an Oyster?  
His credit like a quart pot knocked together,  
Able to hold no liquour? clear but this point.  Petr. 
Speak softly, gentle Cousin.  Ant. 
I'll speak truly;  
What should men do allied to these disgraces,  
Lick o'er his enemy, sit down, and dance him?  2. 
You are as far o'th' bow hand now.  Ant. 
And cry;  
That's my fine boy, thou wilt do so no more child.  Pet. 
Here are no such cold pities.  Ant. 
By Saint Jaques  
They shall not find me one: here's old tough Andrew,  
A special friend of mine, and he but hold,  
He strike 'em such a hornpipe: knocks I come for,  
And the best blood I light on; I profess it,  
Not to scar Costermongers; If I lose mine own,  
Mine audits lost, and farewell five and fifty.  Pet. 
Let's talk no longer, place yourselves with silence,  
As I directed ye; and when time calls us,  
As ye are friends, so show yourselves.  Ant. 
So be it. Exeunt.   

Scaena. 9.  Enter Don John and his Landlady. Land. 
Nay Son, if this be your regard.  Jo. 
Good mother.  Lan. 
Good me no goods; your cousin, and yourself  
Are welcome to me, whilst you bear yourselves  
Like honest and true Gentlemen: Bring hither  
To my house, that have ever been reputed  
A gentlewoman of a decent, and fair carriage,  
And so behaved myself?  Jo. 
I know ye have.  Lan. 
Bring hither, as I say, to make my name  
Stink in my neighbour's nostrils? your devices,  
Your Brats, got out of Alligant, and broken oaths?  
Your Linsey Woolsey work, your hasty puddings?  
I fosler up your filched iniquities?  
You're deceived in me, Sir, I am none  
Of those receivers.  Jo. 
Have I not sworn unto you,  
'Tis none of mine, and showed you how I found it?  Land. 
Ye found an easy fool that let you get it,  
She had better have worn pasterns.  Jo. 
Will ye hear me?  Lan. 
Oaths? what do you care for oaths to gain your ends,  
When ye are high and pampered? What Saint know ye?  
Or what Religion, but your purposed lewdness,  
Is to be looked for of ye? nay, I will tell ye,  
You will then swear like accused Cutpurses,  
As far of truth too; and lie beyond all falconers:  
I'm sick to see this dealing.  Jo. 
Heaven forbid Mother.  Lat. 
Nay, I am very sick.  Jo. 
Who waits there?  Ant. 
Sir. within.  Jo. 
Bring down the bottle of Canary wine.  La. 
Exceeding sick, heaven help me.  Jo. 
Haste ye sirrah,  
I must e'en make her drunk; nay gentle mother;  Lan. 
Now fie upon ye, was it for this purpose  
You fetched your evening walks for your digestions,  
For this pretended holiness? no weather,  
Not before day could hold ye from the Matins.  
Were these your bopeep prayers? ye have prayed well,  
And with a learned zeal: watched well too; your Saint  
It seems was pleased as well: still sicker, sicker.  Enter Anthony with a bottle of wine. Jo. 
There is no talking to her till I have drenched her.  
Give me: here mother take a good round draught,  
'Twill purge spleen from your spirits: deeper mother.  Lan. 
ay, ay, son; you imagine this will mend all.  Jo. 
All i'faith Mother.  Lan. 
I confess the Wine  
Will do his part.  Jo. 
I'll pledge ye.  La. 
But son John.  Jo. 
I know your meaning mother; touch it once more,  
Alas you look not well; take a round draught,  
It warms the blood well, and restores the colour,  
And then we'll talk at large.  Land. 
A civil gentleman?  
A stranger? one the Town holds a good regard of?  Jo. 
Nay I will silence there.  Lan. 
One that should weigh his fair name? oh, a stichl  Jo. 
There's nothing better for a stitch, good mother,  
Make no spare of it, as you love your health,  
Mince not the nutter.  Land. 
As I said, a gentleman,  
Lodge in my house? now heavens my comfort, Signior!  Jo. 
I looked for this.  Lan. 
I did not think you would have used me thus;  
A woman of my credit: one, heaven knows,  
That loved you but too tenderly.  Jo. 
Dear mother,  
I ever found your kindness, and acknowledge it.  Lan. 
No, no, I am a fool to counsel ye. Where's the infant?  
Come, let's see your Workmanship.  Jo. 
None of mine, Mother.  
But there 'tis, and a lusty one.  Land. 
Heaven bless thee,  
Thou hadst a hasty making; but the best is,  
'Tis many a good man's fortune: as I live  
Your own eyes Signior, and the nether lip  
As like ye, as ye had spit it.  Jo. 
I am glad on't.  Lan. 
Bless me, what things are these?  Jo. 
I thought my labour  
Was not all lost, 'tis gold, & these are jewels,  
Both rich, and right I hope.  Lan. 
Well, well son john,  
I see ye are a woodman, and can choose  
Your Dear, though it be i'th' dark, all your discretion  
Is not yet lost; this was well clapped aboard:  
Here I am with you now; whenas they say  
Your pleasure comes with profit; when ye must needs do,  
Do where ye may be done to, 'tis a wisdom  
Becomes a young man well: be sure of one thing,  
Lose not your labour and your time together,  
It seasons of a fool, son, time is precious,  
Work wary whilst ye have it; since ye must traffic  
Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold Signior,  
Trade with no broken Merchants, make your lading,  
As you would make your rest, adventurously,  
But with advantage ever.  Io. 
All this time mother,  
The child wants looking too, wants meat and Nurses.  Lan. 
Now blessing o' thy care; it shall have all,  
And instantly; I'll seek a Nurse myself, son;  
'Tis a sweet child: ah my young Spaniard;  
Take you no further care sir.  Io. 
Yes of these Jewels,  
I must by your leave Mother: these are yours,  
To make your care the stronger: for the rest  
I'll find a Master; the gold for bringing up on't,  
I freely render to your charge.  Lan. 
No more words,  
Nor no more children, (good son) as you love me,  
This may do well.  Ioh. 
I shall observe your Morals.  
But where's Don Ferdinand (Mother)  Lan. 
Ten to one  
About the like adventure: he told me.  
He was to find you out. Exit.  Io. 
Why should he stay thus?  
There may be some ill chance in't: sleep I will not,  
Before I have found him: now this woman's pleased,  
I'll seek my friend out, and my care is eased. Exit.   

Scaena. 10.  Enter Duke and Gent. 1 Gen. 
Believe sir, 'tis as possible to do it,  
As to remove the City; the main faction,  
Swarm through the streets like hornets, armed with angers  
Able to ruin States: no safety left us,  
Nor means to die like men, if instantly  
You draw not back again,  Duk. 
May he be drawn  
And quartered too, that turns now; were I surer  
Of death than thou art of thy fears, and with death  
More than those fears are too.  1. 
Sir, I fear not.  Du. 
I would not crack my vow, start from my honour,  
Because I may find danger; wound my soul,  
To keep my body safe.  1. 
I speak not sir,  
Out of a baseness to you.  Du. 
No, nor do not  
Out of a baseness leave more: what is danger,  
More than the weakness of our apprehensions?  
A poor cold part o'th' blood? who takes it hold of?  
Cowards, and wicked livers: valiant minds  
Were made the Masters of it, and as hearty Seamen  
In desperate storms, stem with a little Rudder  
The tumbling ruins of the Ocean:  
So with their cause & swords do they do dangers.  
Say we year sure to die all in this venture,  
As I am confident against it: is there any  
Amongst us of so fat a sense, so pampered,  
Would choose luxuriously to lie a-bed,  
And purge away his spirit, send his soul out  
In Sugar-lops, and Syrups? give me dying,  
As dying out to be, upon mine enemy,  
Parting with mankind, by a man that's manly:  
Let 'em be all the world, and bring along  
Cain's envy with 'em, I will on.  2. 
You may sir,  
But with what safety?  1. 
Since 'tis come to dying,  
You shall perceive sir, here be those amongst us  
Can die as decently as other men,  
And with as little ceremony: on brave sir.  Duk. 
That's spoken heartily.  1. 
And he that flinches  
May he die lousy in a ditch.  Du. 
No more dying,  
There's no such danger in it:  
What's o'clock?  3. 
Somewhat above your hour.  Du. 
Away then quickly,  
Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us. Exeunt.   

Scaena. 11.  Enter Frederick, and Peter, (with a candle.) Fred. 
Give me the candle: so go you out that way.  Pet. 
What have we now to do?  Fred. 
And o' your life sirrah,  
Let none come near the door without my knowledge,  
No not my Land lady, nor my friend.  Pet. 
'Tis done sir.  Fr. 
Nor any serious business that concerns me.  Pet. 
Is the wind there again?  Fr. 
Be gone.  Pet. 
I am sir. Exit.  Enter Constantia with a Jewel. Fr. 
Now enter without fear.— And noble Lady  
That safety and civility ye wished for  
Shall truly here attend you: no rude tongue  
Nor rough behaviour knows this place, no wishes  
Beyond the moderation of a man,  
Dare enter here: your own desires and Innocence,  
Joined to my vowed obedience, shall protect you,  
Were dangers more than doubts.  Coast. 
Ye are truly noble,  
And worth a woman's trust: let it become me,  
(I do beseech you sir) for all your kindness,  
To render with my thanks, this worthless trifle;  
I may be longer troublesome.  Fred. 
Fair offices  
Are still their own rewards: Heaven bless me Lady  
From selling civil courtesies: may it please ye,  
If ye will force a favour to oblige me,  
Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfy me  
For what good Angel I am engaged,  Const. 
It shall be.  
For I am truly confident ye are honest:  
The Piece is scarce worth looking on.  Fred. 
Trust me  
The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness,  
Defend me honest thoughts, I shall grow wild else:  
What eyes are there, rather what little heavens,  
To stir men's contemplations? what a Paradise  
Runs through each part she has? good blood be temperate:  
I must look off: too excellent an object  
Confounds the sense that sees it Noble Lady,  
If there be any further service to cast on me,  
Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye,  
Or the engagement of whole Families.  Const. 
Your service is too liberal, worthy sir,  
Thus far I shall entreat.  Fred. 
Command me Lady.  
You make your power too poor.  Const. 
That presently  
With all convenient haste, you would retire  
Unto the street you found me in.  Fred. 
'Tis done.  Const. 
There, if you find a gentleman oppressed  
With force and violence, do a man's office,  
And draw your sword to rescue him.  Fred. 
he's safe,  
Be what he will, and let his foes be devils,  
Armed with your pity, I shall conjure 'em.  
Retire, this key will guide ye: all things necessary  
Are there before ye.  Const. 
All my prayers go with ye. Exit.  Fred. 
Ye clap on proof upon me: men say gold  
does all, engages all, works through all dangers:  
Now I say beauty can do more: The king's Exchequer,  
Nor all his wealthy Indies, could not draw me  
Through half those miseries this piece of pleasure  
Might make me leap into: we are all like sea-Cards,  
All our endeavours and our motions,  
(As they do to the North) still point at beauty,  
Still at the fairest: for a handsome woman,  
(Setting my soul aside) it should go hard,  
But I would strain my body: yet to her,  
Unless it be her own free gratitude,  
Hopes ye shall die, and thou tongue rot within me,  
ere I infringe my faith: now to my rescue. Exit.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Duke, pursued by Petruchio, Antonio, and that Faction. Duke. 
YOu will not all oppress me?  Ant. 
Kill him i'th' wanton eye: let me come to him.  Duk. 
Then ye shall buy me dearly.  Petr. 
Say you so sir?  Ant. 
I say cut his Weazand spoil his peeping.  
Have at your love-sick heart sir. Enter Don John.  John. 
Sure 'tis fighting.  
My friend may be engaged: fie gentlemen,  
This is unmanly odds.  Ant. 
I'll stop your mouth sir. Du. falls down, Don Ioh. bestrides him.  John. 
Nay, then have at thee freely:  
there's a plumb sir to satisfy your longing.  Pet. 
Away: I hope I have sped him: here comes rescue.  
We shall be endangered: where's Antonio?  Ant. 
I must have one thrust more sir.  Ioh. 
Come up to me.  Ant. 
A mischief confound your fingers.  Petr. 
How is't?  Ant. 
Well:  
Has given me my quiet us est, I felt him  
In my small guts, I'm sure, has feezed me:  
This comes of siding with ye.  2 Gent. 
Can you go sir?  Ant. 
I should go man, and my head were of,  
Never talk of going.  Pet. 
Come, all shall be well then. Enter the Duke's Faction.  
I hear more rescue coming.  Ant. 
Let's turn back then;  
My skull's uncloven yet, let me but kill.  Pet. 
Away for heaven sake with him.  Ioh. 
How is't?  Du. 
Well sir,  
Only a little staggered.  Faction Du. 
Let's pursue 'em.  Du. 
No not a man, I charge ye: thanks good coat,  
Thou hast saved me a shrewd welcome: 't was put home too,  
With a good mind I'm sure on't.  Ioh. 
Are ye safe then?  Du. 
My thanks to you brave sir, whose timely valour,  
And manly courtesy came to my rescue,  Io. 
Ye 'had foul play offered ye, and shame befall him  
That can pass by oppression.  Du. 
May I crave sir,  
But thus much honour more, to know your name?  
And him I am so bound to?  Ioh. 
For the Bond sir,  
'Tis every good man's tie: to know me further  
Will little profit ye; I am a stranger,  
My Country Spain; my name Don john, a gentleman  
That lies here for my study.  Du. 
I have heard sir,  
Much worthy mention of ye, yet I find  
Fame short of what ye are.  john 
You are pleased sir,  
To express your courtesy: may I demand  
As freely what you are, and what mischance  
Cast you into this danger?  Du. 
For this present  
I must desire your pardon: you shall know me  
Ere it be long sir, and a nobler thanks,  
Then now my will can render.  Ioh. 
Your will's your own sir.  Du. 
What is't you look for sir, have ye lost any thing?  Io. 
Only my hat i'th' scuffle; sure these fellows  
Were night-snaps.  Du. 
No, believe sir: pray ye use mine,  
For 'twill be hard to find your own now.  Ioh. 
No sir.  Du. 
Indeed ye shall, I can command another:  
I do beseech ye honour me.  Io. 
I will sir,  
And so I'll take my leave.  Du. 
Within these few days  
I hope I shall be happy in your knowledge.  
Till when I love your memory. Exit Duke, etc. Enter Fredrick.  Io. 
I yours.  
This is some noble fellow.  Fred. 
'Tis his tongue sure.  
Don john?  Ioh. 
Don Fredrick?  Fred. 
Ye 'are fairly met sir:  
I thought ye had been a Batfowling: prithee tell me,  
What Revelations hast thou had tonight,  
That home was never thought of?  Io. 
Revelations?  
I'll tell thee Fredrick. but before I tell thee,  
Settle thy understanding.  Fred. 
'Tis prepared, sir.  Io. 
Why then mark what shall follow. This night Fredr.  
This bawdy night.  Fred. 
I thought no less.  Ioh. 
This blind night,  
What dost think I have got?  Fred. 
The Pox it may be.  Io. 
Would 'twere no worse: ye talk of Revelations,  
I have got a Revelation will reveal me,  
An arrant Coxcomb while I live.  Fred. 
What is't?  
Thou hast lost nothing?  Io. 
No, I have got I tell thee.  Fr. 
What hast thou got?  Io. 
One of the Infantry, a child.  Fr. 
How?  Io. 
A chopping child, man.  Fr. 
Give ye joy, sir.  Io. 
A lump of lewdness Fredrick, that's the truth on't:  
This Town's abominable.  Fr. 
I still told ye john  
Your whoring must come home; I counselled ye:  
But where no grace is—  Io. 
'Tis none o'mine, man.  Fr. 
Answer the Parish so.  Io. 
Cheated introth.  
Peeping into a house, by whom I know not,  
Nor where to find the place again: no Fredricke,  
Had I but kissed the ring for't; 'tis no poor one,  
That's my best comfort, for't has brought about it  
Enough to make it man.  Fr. 
Where is't?  Io. 
At home.  Fr. 
A saving voyage: But what will you say Signior,  
To him that searching out your serious Worship,  
Has met a stranger fortune?  Joh. 
How, good Frederick?  
A militant girl now to this boy would hit it?  Fred. 
No, mine's a nobler venture: What do you think Sir  
Of a distressed Lady, one whose beauty  
Would oversell all Italy?  Joh, 
Where is she—  Fred. 
A woman of that rare behaviour,  
So qualified, as admiration  
Dwells round about her: of that perfect spirit—  Joh. 
I marry Sir.  Fred. 
That admirable carriage,  
That sweetness in discourse; young as the morning,  
Her blushes staining his.  Joh. 
But where's this Creature?  
Show me but that.  Fred. 
That's all one, she's forth coming,  
I have her sure Boy.  Joh. 
Hark ye Fredrick.  
What truck betwixt my Infant?  Fred. 
'Tis too light Sir,  
Stick to your charges good Don John, I am well.  Joh. 
But is there such a wench?  Fred. 
First tell me this,  
Did ye not lately as ye walked along,  
Discover people that were armed, and likely  
To do offence?  Ioh. 
Yes marry, and they urged it  
As far as they had spirit.  Fred. 
Pray go forward.  Ioh. 
A Gentleman I found engaged amongst 'em,  
It seems of noble breeding, I'm sure brave mettle,  
As I returned to look you, I set in to him,  
And without hurt (I thank heaven) rescued him,  
And came myself off safe too.  Fred. 
My work's done then:  
And now to satisfy you, there is a woman,  
Oh john, there is a woman—  Ioh. 
Oh, where is she?  Fred. 
And one of no less worth than I assure ye;  
And which is more, fall'n under my protection.  Ioh. 
I am glad of that: forward sweet Fredrick.  Fred. 
And which is more than that, by this nights wandering,  
And which is most of all, she is at home too Sir.  Io. 
Come, let's be gone then.  Fred. 
Yes, but 'tis most certain,  
You cannot see her, john.  Ioh. 
Why?  Fred. 
She has sworn me  
That none else shall come near her: not my Mother  
Till some few doubts are cleared.  Ioh. 
Not look upon her? What chamber is she in?  Fred. 
In ours.  Ioh. 
Let's go I say:  
A woman's oaths are wafers, break with making,  
They must for modesty a little: we all know it.  Fred. 
No, I'll assure you Sir.  Ioh. 
Not see her?  
I smell an old dog trick of yours, well Fredrick,  
Ye talked to me of whoring, let's have fair play,  
Square dealing I would wish ye.  Fred. 
When 'tis come.  
Which I know never will be, to that issue,  
Your spoon shall be as deep as mine Sir.  Ioh. 
Tell me,  
And tell me true, is the cause honourable,  
Or for your ease?  Fr. 
By all our friendship, john,  
'Tis honest, and of great end.  Ioh. 
I am answered:  
But let me see her though: leave the door open  
As ye go in.  Fr. 
I dare not.  Io. 
Not wide open,  
But just so, as a jealous husband  
Would level at his wanton wife through.  Fr. 
That courtesy,  
If ye desire no more, and keep it strictly,  
I dare afford ye: come, 'tis now near morning. Ex.   

Scene 2.  Enter Peter and Anthony. Pet. 
Nay the old woman's gone too.  Ant. 
she's a Caterwauling  
Among the gutters: But conceive me, Peter,  
Where our good Masters should be?  Pet. 
Where they should be,  
I do conceive, but where they are, good Anthony—  Ant. 
ay, there it goes: my Master's bopeep with me,  
With his sly popping in and out again,  
Argued a cause, a frippery cause.  Pet. 
Believe me,  
They bear up with some carvel.  Ant. 
I do believe thee,  
For thou hast such a Master for that chase,  
That till he spend his main Mast—  Pet. 
Pray remember  
Your courtesy good Anthony; and withal,  
How long 'tis since your Master sprung a leak,  
He had a sound one since he came. Lute sounds within.  Ant. 
Hark.  Pet. 
What?  Ant. 
Dost not hear a Lute?  
Again?  Pet. 
Where is't?  Ant. 
Above in my Master's chamber.  Pet. 
There's no creature: he hath the key himself man.  An. 
This is his Lute: let him have it. Sing within a little.  Pet. 
I grant you; but who strikes it?  Ant. 
An admirable voice too, hark ye.  Pet. 
Anthony,  
Art sure we are at home?  Ant. 
Without all doubt, Peter.  Pet. 
Then this must be the Devil.  Ant. 
Let it be. Sing again.  
Good Devil sing again: O dainty devil,  
Peter believe it, a most delicate devil,  
The sweetest Devil— Enter Fredrick & Don john.  Fred. 
If ye could leave peeping.  john 
I cannot by no means.  Fred. 
Then come in softly,  
And as ye love your faith, presume no further  
Than ye have promised.  Ioh. 
Basto.  Fr. 
What make you up so early sir?  Io. 
You sir in your contemplations.  Pet. 
O pray ye peace sir.  Fred. 
Why peace sir?  Pet. 
Do you hear?  Ioh. 
'Tis your Lute.  Fred. 
Pray ye speak softly.  
She's playing on't.  Ant. 
The house is haunted sir,  
For this we have heard this half year.  Fred. 
Ye saw nothing;  Ant. 
Not I.  Pet. 
Nor I Sir.  Fred. 
Get us our breakfast then,  
And make no words on't; we'll undertake this spirit,  
If it be one.  Ant. 
This is no devil Peter. Sing. Exeunt Servants.  
Mum, there be Bats abroad.  Fred. 
Stay, now she sings.  Ioh. 
An angel's voice I'll swear.  Fred. 
Why didst thou shrug so?  
Either allay this heat; or as I live  
I will not trust ye.  Ioh. 
Pass: I warrant ye. Exeunt.  Enter Constantia. Con. 
To curse those stars, that men say govern us,  
To rail at fortune, fall out with my Fate,  
And task the general world, will help me nothing:  
Alas, I am the same still, neither are they  
Subject to helps, or hurts: Our own desires  
Are our own fates, our own stars, all our fortunes,  
Which as we sway 'em, so abuse, or bless us.  Enter Fredrick, and Don John peeping. Fred. 
Peace to your meditations.  Joh. 
Pox upon ye,  
Stand out o'th' light.  Const. 
I crave your mercy sir,  
My mind o'ercharged with care made me unmannerly.  Fr. 
Pray ye set that mind at rest, all shall be perfect.  Io. 
I like the body rare; a handsome body,  
A wondrous handsome body: would she would turn:  
See, and that spiteful puppy be not got  
Between me and my light again,  Fr. 
'tis done,  
As all that you command shall be: the gentleman  
Is safely off all danger.  Ioh. 
O de dios.  Const. 
How shall I thank ye sir? how satisfy?  Fr. 
Speak softly, gentle Lady, all's rewarded,  
Now does he melt like marmalade.  Io. 
Nay, 'tis certain,  
Thou art the sweetest woman I e'er looked on:  
I hope thou art not honest.  Fred. 
None disturbed ye?  Const. 
Not any sir, nor any sound came near me,  
I thank your care.  Fred. 
'Tis well.  Ioh. 
I would fain pray now,  
But the Devil and that flesh there, o' the world,  
What are we made to suffer?  Fr. 
he'll enter;  
Pull in your head and be hanged.  Ioh. 
Hark ye Fredricke,  
I have brought ye home your Packsaddle.  Fr. 
Pox upon ye.  Con. 
Nay let him enter: fie my Lord the Duke,  
Stand peeping at your friends.  Fr. 
Ye are cozened Lady,  
Here is no Duke.  Const. 
I know him full well Signior.  Ioh. 
Hold thee there wench.  Fre. 
This mad-brained fool will spoil all.  Con. 
I do beseech your grace come in.  Ioh. 
My Grace,  
There was a word of comfort.  Fred. 
Shall he enter,  
whoe'er he be?  Ioh. 
Well followed Fredrick.  Const. 
With all my heart.  Fred. 
Come in then. Enter Don John.  Jo. 
'Bless ye Lady:  Fr. 
Nay start not, though he be a stranger to ye,  
he's of a Noble strain, my kinsman, Lady,  
My Countryman, and fellow Traveller,  
One bed contains us ever, one purse feeds us,  
And one faith free between us; do not fear him,  
he's truly honest.  Jo. 
That's a lie.  Fred. 
And trusty:  
Beyond your wishes: valiant to defend,  
And modest to converse with, as your blushes.  Jo. 
Now may I hang myself; this commendation  
Has broke the neck of all my hopes: for now  
Must I cry, no forsooth, and I forsooth, and surely,  
And truly as I live, and as I am honest.  
Has done these things for 'nonce too; for he knows,  
Like a most envious Rascal as he is,  
I am not honest, nor desire to be,  
Especially this way: h'as watched his time,  
But I shall quit him.  Const. 
Sir, I credit ye.  Fred. 
Go kiss her John.  Joh. 
Plague o' your commendations.  Con. 
Sir, I shall now desire to be a trouble.  Jo. 
Never to me, sweet Lady: Thus I seal  
My faith, and all my service.  Con. 
One word signior.  Jo. 
Now 'tis impossible I should be honest,  
She kisses with a conjuration  
Would make the devil dance: what points she at?  
My leg I warrant, or my well knit body:  
Sit fast Don Fredrick.  Fred. 
'Twas given him by that gentleman  
You took such care of; his own being lost i'th' scuffle.  Con. 
With much joy may he wear it: 'tis a right one,  
I can assure ye Gentleman, and right happy  
May you be in all fights for that fair service.  Fred. 
Why do ye blush?  Con. 
'T had almost cozened me,  
For not to lie, when I saw that, I looked for  
Another Master of it: but 'tis well. Knock within.  Fr. 
Who's there? Ent. Anthony.  
Stand ye a little close: Come in Sir,  
Now what's the news with you?  Anth. 
There is a gentlemen without,  
Would speak with Don John,  Ioh. 
Who sir?  Ant. 
I do not know Sir, but he shows a man  
Of no mean reckoning.  Fred. 
Let him show his name,  
And then return a little wiser.  Ant. 
Well Sir. Exit Anthony.  Fred. 
How do you like her john?  Ioh. 
As well as you Fredrick,  
For all I am honest: you shall find it so too.  Fred. 
Art thou not honest?  Ioh. 
Art thou an Ass?  
And modest as her blushes? What a blockhead  
Would e'er have popped out such a dry Apology,  
For his dear friend? and to a Gentlewoman,  
A woman of her youth, and delicacy.  
They are arguments to draw them to abhor us.  
An honest moral man; 'tis for a Constable:  
A handsome man, a wholesome man, a tough man,  
A liberal man, a likely man, a man  
Made up like Hercules, unslaked with service:  
The same tonight, tomorrow night, the next night,  
And so to perpetuity of pleasures,  
These had been things to harken too, things catching:  
But you have such a spiced consideration,  
Such qualms upon your worship's conscience,  
such chilblains in your blood, that all things pinch ye,  
Which nature, and the liberal world makes custom,  
And nothing but fair honour, O sweet honour,  
Hang up your Eunuch honour: That I was trusty,  
And valiant, were things well put in; but modest!  
A modest gentleman I o wit where wast thou?  Fred. 
I am sorry John,  John 
My Lady's gentlewoman  
Would laugh me to a Schoolboy, make me blush  
With playing with my Codpiece point: fie on thee,  
A man of thy discretion?  Fred. 
It shall be mended:  
And henceforth ye shall have your due. Enter Anthony.  John 
I look for't: How now, who is't?  An. 
A gentleman of this town  
And calls himself Petruchio. Enter Constantia.  John 
I'll attend him.  Const. 
How did he call himself.  Fred. 
Petruchio,  
does it concern you ought?  Const. 
O gentlemen,  
The hour of my destruction is come on me,  
I am discovered, lost, left to my ruin:  
As ever ye had pity—  John 
Do not fear,  
Let the great devil come, he shall come through me:  
Lost here, and we about ye?  Fred. 
Fall before us?  Const. 
O my unfortunate estate, all angers  
Compared to his, to his—  Fred. 
Let his, and all men's,  
Whilst we have power and life: stand up for heaven sake.  Con. 
I have offended heaven too; yet heaven knows—  john 
We are all evil:  
Yet heaven forbid we should have our deserts.  
What is 'a?  Con. 
Too too near to my offence sir;  
O he will cut me piecemeal.  Fred. 
'tis no Treason?  John 
Let it be what it will: if a cut here,  
I'll find him cutwork.  Fred. 
He must buy you dear,  
With more than common lives.  Joh. 
Fear not, nor weep not:  
By heaven I'll fire the Town before ye perish,  
And then, the more the merrier, we'll jog with ye.  Fred. 
Come in, and dry your eyes.  John 
Pray no more weeping:  
Spoil a sweet face for nothing? my return  
Shall end all this I warrant you.  Con. 
Heaven grant it. Exeunt.   

Scene 3.  Enter Petruchio with a Letter. Petr. 
This man should be of special rank:  
For these commends carry no common way,  
No slight worth with 'em:  
'a shall be he. Ent. Don john.  John 
'Save ye sir: I am sorry  
My business was so unmannerly, to make ye  
Wait thus long here.  Petr. 
Occasions must be served sir:  
But is your name Don John?  Ioh. 
It is Sir.  Petr. 
Then,  
First, for your own brave sake I must embrace ye:  
Next, from the credit of your noble friend  
Hernando de Aluara, make ye mine:  
Who lays his charge upon me in this Letter  
To look ye out, and for the goodness in ye,  
Whilst your occasions make ye resident  
In this place, to supply ye, love and honour ye;  
Which had I known sooner—  john 
Noble sir,  
You'll make my thanks too poor: I wear a sword, sir,  
And have a service to be still disposed of,  
As you shall please command it.  Petr. 
Gentle sir,  
That manly courtesy is half my business:  
And to be short, to make ye know I honour ye,  
And in all points believe your worth like Oracle,  
And how above my friends, which are not few,  
And those not slack, I estimate your virtues,  
Make yourself understand, This day Petruchio,  
A man that may command the strength of this place,  
Hazard the boldest spirits; hath made choice  
Only of you, and in a noble office.  Ioh. 
Forward, I am free to entertain it.  Petr. 
Thus then:  
I do beseech ye mark me.  Ioh. 
I shall do it.  Pet. 
Ferrara's Duke, would I might call him worthy,  
But that he has razed out from his family,  
As he has mine with Infamy, This man,  
Rather this powerful Monster, we being left  
But two of all our house, to stock out memories,  
My Sister, and myself; with arts, and witchcrafts,  
Vows, and such oaths heaven has no mercy for,  
Drew to dishonour this weak maid, by stealths,  
And secret passages I knew not of,  
Oft he obtained his wishes, oft abused her:  
I am ashamed to say the rest: This purchased,  
And his hot blood allayed, as friends forsake us  
At a mile's end upon our way, he left her,  
And all our name to ruin.  Ioh. 
This was foul Play,  
And aught to be rewarded so.  Petr. 
I hope so;  
He scaped me yesternight: which if he dare  
Again adventure for, heaven pardon him,  
I shall with all my heart.  Ioh. 
For me, brave Signior,  
What do ye intend?  Petr. 
Only, fair sir, this trust,  
Which from the commendations of this Letter,  
I dare presume well placed, nobly to bear him  
By word of mouth a single challenge from me,  
That man to man, if he have honour in him,  
We may decide all difference.  Ioh. 
Fair, and noble,  
And I will do it home: When shall I visit ye?  Pet. 
Please you this afternoon, I will ride with ye:  
For at a Castle six mile hence, we are sure  
To find him.  john. 
I'll be ready.  Petr. 
To attend ye,  
My man shall wait: with all my Ex. Petr. Enter Fredr.  John 
My service shall not fail ye.  Fred. 
How now?  John 
All's well: who dost thou think this wench is?  
Guess, and thou canst?  Fred. 
I cannot.  John 
Be it known then,  
To all men by these presents, this is she,  
She, she, and only she, our curious coxcombs  
Were errant two months after.  Fred. 
Who, Constantia?  
Thou talk'st of Cocks and Bulls.  Ioh. 
I talk of wenches,  
Of Cocks and hen's Don Frerdick; this is the Pullet  
We two went proud after.  Fred. 
It cannot be.  john 
It shall be;  
Sister to Don Petruchio: I know all man.  Fred. 
Now I believe.  john 
Go to, there has been stirring,  
Fumbling with Linen Fredrick.  Fred. 
'Tis impossible,  
You know her feign was pure as fire.  Ioh. 
That pure fire  
Has melted out her maidenhead: she is cracked:  
We have all that hope of our side, boy.  Fred, 
Thou tell'st me,  
To my imagination, things incredible:  
I see no loose thought in her.  Ioh. 
That's all one,  
She is loose i'th' hilts by heaven: but the world must know  
A fair way, upon vow of marriage.  Fred. 
There may be such a slip.  john 
And will be Fredrick,  
Whilst the old game's afoot: I fear the boy too  
Will prove hers too I took up.  Fred. 
Good circumstance  
May cure all this yet.  john 
There thou hitst it, Fredrick:  
Come, let's walk in and comfort her: her being here  
Is nothing yet suspected: anon I'll tell thee  
Wherefore her brother came, who by this light  
Is a brave noble fellow, and what honour  
H'as done to me a stranger: there be Irons  
Heating for some, will hist into their heart bloods,  
'Ere all be ended; so much for this time.  Fred. 
Well sir Exeunt.    

Actus Tertius.  

Scaena prima.  Eater Landlady and Peter. Land. 
Come ye do know.  Pet. 
I do not by this hand Mistress.  
But I suspect.  Land. 
What?  Pet. 
That if eggs continue  
At this price, women will ne'er be saved  
By their good works.  Land. 
I will know.  Pet. 
Ye shall, any thing  
Lies in my power: The Duke of Lorraine now  
Is seven thousand strong: I heard it of a fishwife,  
A woman of fine knowledge.  Land. 
Sirrah, sirrah.  Pe. 
The pope's Bulls are broke loose too and 'tis suspected  
They shall be baited in England.  Lan. 
Very well sir.  Pet. 
No, 'tis not so well neither.  Lan. 
But I say to ye,  
Who is it keeps your Master company?  Pet. 
I say to you, Don john.  Lan. 
I say what woman?  Pet. 
I say so too.  Lan. 
I say again, I will know.  Pet. 
I say 'tis fit ye should.  Lan. 
And I tell thee  
He has a woman here.  Pet. 
And I tell thee  
'Tis then the better for him.  Lan. 
You are no Bawd now?  Pet. 
Would I were able to be called unto it:  
A worshipful vocation for my elders;  
For as I understand it is a place  
Fitting my betters far.  Lan. 
Was ever Gentlewoman  
So frumped off with a fool? well saucy sirrah,  
I will know who it is, and for what purpose;  
I pay the rent, and I will know how my house  
Comes by these Inflammations: if this gear hold,  
Best hang a signpost up, to tell the Signiors,  
Here ye may have lewdness at Livery. Ent. Fredrick.  Pet, 
'Twould be a great ease to your age.  Fred. 
How now?  
Why what's the matter Landlady?  Lan. 
What's the matter?  
Ye use me decently among ye gentlemen.  Fr. 
Who has abused her, you sir?  Lan. 
'Ods my witness  
I will not be thus treated, that I will not.  Pet. 
I gave her no ill language.  Lan. 
Thou liest lewdly,  
Thou tookst me up at every word I spoke,  
As I had been a malkin, a flirt Gillian;  
And thou thinkst, because thou canst write & read,  
Our noses must be under thee.  Fr. 
Dare you sirrah?  Pet. 
Let but the truth be known Sir, I beseech ye,  
She raves of wenches, and I know not what sir:  La. 
Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet,  
Thou instrument of evil.  Pet. 
As I live Sir,  
She is ever thus till dinner.  Fr. 
Get ye in,  
I'll answer you anon sir.  Pet. 
By this hand  
I'll break your Posset pan. Exit.  Lan. 
Then by this hood  
I'll lock the meat up.  Fr. 
Now your grief, what is't?  
For I can guess—  Lan. 
Ye may with shame enough,  
If there were shame amongst ye; nothing thought on,  
But how ye may abuse my house: not satisfied  
With bringing home your Bastards to undo me,  
But you must drill your whores here too; my patience  
Because I bear, and bear, and carry, all,  
And as they say am willing to groan under)  
Must be your makesport now.  Fred. 
No more of these words.  
Nor no more murmurings Lady: for you know  
That I know something. I did suspect your anger,  
But turn it presently and handsomely,  
And bear yourself discreetly to this woman,  
For such a one there is indeed.  Land. 
'Tis well son.  Fr. 
Leaving your devils Matins, and your melancholies,  
Or we shall leave our lodgings.  Land. 
You have much need  
To use these vagrant ways, and to much profit:  
Ye had that might content  
(At home within yourselves too) right good gentlemen,  
Wholesome, and ye said handsome: But you gallants,  
Boast that I was to believe ye—  Fr. 
Leave your suspicion:  
For as I live there's no such thing.  Lan. 
Mine honour;  
And 'twere not for mine honour.  Fr. 
Come, your honour,  
Your house, and you too, if you dare believe me  
Are well enough: sleek up yourself, leave crying, Bowl of wipe ready.  
For I must have ye entertain this Lady  
With all civility, she well deserves it,  
Together with all secrecy: I dare trust ye,  
For I have found ye faithful: when you know her  
You will find your own fault; no more words, but do it.  Lan. 
You know you may command me. Ent. Don. Ioh.  Io. 
Worshipful Lady,  
How does thy Velvet scabbard? by this hand  
Thou look'st most amiably: now could I willingly  
And 'twere not for abusing thy Geneva print there,  
Venture my body with thee.  Lan. 
You'll leave this ropery,  
When you come to my years.  Ioh. 
By this light  
Thou art not above fifteen yet, a mere girl,  
Thou hast not half thy teeth: come—  Fred. 
Prithee john  
Let her alone, she has been vexed already:  
she'll grow stark mad man.  Ioh. 
I would see her mad,  
An old mad woman  Fred. 
Prithee be patient.  Ioh. 
Is like a miller's Mare, troubled with toothache.  
she'll make the rarest faces.  Fred. 
Go, and do it,  
And do not mind this fellow.  Lan. 
Well Don John.  
There will be times again; when O good Mother,  
What's good for a carnosity in the Bladder?  
O the green water, mother.  Ioh. 
Doting take ye,  
Do ye remember that?  Fr. 
She has paid ye now sir.  La. 
Clarry, sweet mother, Clarry.  Lan. 
Are ye satisfied?  Lan. 
I'll never whore again; never give Petticoats  
And Waistcoats at five pound a piece; good Mother,  
Quickly Mother: now mock on Son.  Ioh. 
A devil grind your old chaps. Exit Land.  Fr. 
By this hand wench  
I'll give thee a new hood for this.  
Has she met with your Lordship?  
Touchwood rake her. Enter Anthony.  
she's a rare ghostly mother.  Ant. 
Below attends ye  
The Gentleman's man sir that was with ye.  Joh. 
Well Sir;  
My time is come then: yet if my project hold,  
You shall not stay behind: I'll rather trust. Enter Constan.  
A Cat with sweet milk Fredrick; by her face  
I feel her fears are working.  Const. 
Is there no way,  
I do beseech ye think yet, to divert  
This certain danger?  Fr. 
'Tis impossible:  
Their honours are engaged.  Con. 
Then there must be murder,  
Which, Gentlemen, I shall no sooner hear of,  
Then make one in't: you may, if you please sir,  
Make all go less yet.  John. 
Lady were't mine own cause,  
I could dispense: but loaden with my friends trust,  
I must go on; though general massacres  
As much I fear—  Const, 
Do ye hear sir; for heaven's pity  
Let me request one love of you.  Fred. 
Yes any thing.  Con. 
This gentleman I find too resolute,  
Too hot, and fiery for the cause, as ever  
You did a virtuous deed, for honour's sake  
Go with him, and allay him: your fair temper  
And noble disposition, like wished showers,  
May quench those eating fires, that would spoil all else.  
I see in him destruction.  Fred. 
I will do it;  
And 'tis a wise consideration,  
To me, a bounteous favour: hark ye John,  
I will go with ye.  Joh. 
No.  Fred. 
Indeed I will,  
Ye go upon a hazard: no denial;  
For as I live, I'll go.  John. 
Then make ye ready,  
For I am straight a horseback.  Fred. 
My sword on,  
I am as ready as you: what my best labour,  
With all the Art I have can work upon 'em,  
Be sure of, and expect fair end: the old gentlewoman  
Shall wait upon you; she is both grave and private,  
And ye may trust her in all points.  Const. 
Ye are noble:  
And so I kiss your hand.  John. 
That seal for me too,  
And I hope happy issue Lady.  Const. 
All heavens care upon ye, and my prayers.  Joh. 
So,  
Now my mind's at rest.  Fred. 
Away, 'tis late John. Exeunt.   

Scene 2.  Enter Antonio, a Surgeon, and 2. Gent. 1 Gent. 
Come sir, be hearty: all the worst is past.  Ant. 
Give me some Wine.  Sur. 
'Tis death Sir.  Ant. 
'Tis a horse sir.  
'Sblood, to be dressed to the tune of Ale only,  
Nothing but sauces to my sores.  2 Gen. 
Fie Antonio,  
You must be governed.  Ant. 
Has given me a damned Glister,  
Only of sand and snow water, gentlemen,  
Has almost scoured my guts out.  Surg. 
I have given you that sir  
Is fittest for your state.  Ant. 
And here he feeds me  
With rotten ends of rooks, and drowned chickens,  
stewed Pericraniums, and Pia-maters;  
And when I go to bed, by heaven 'tis true gentlemen,  
He rolls me up in Lints, with Labels at 'em,  
That I am just the man i'th' Almanac,  
In head and face, is Aries place.  Surg. 
willt please ye  
To let your friends see ye opened?  Ant. 
Will it please you sir  
To let me have a wench: I feel my body  
Open enough for that yet?  Surg. 
How, a wench?  Ant. 
Why look ye gentlemen; thus I am used still,  
I can get nothing that I want.  1 Gen. 
Leave these things,  
And let him open ye.  Ant. 
d'ye hear Surgeon?  
Send for the Music, let me have some pleasure  
To entertain my friends, beside your Salads,  
Your green salves, and your searches, and some wine too,  
That I may only smell to it: or by this light  
I'll die upon thy hand, and spoil thy custom.  1 Gen. 
Let him have Music. Ent. Rowl. with wine.  Surg. 
'Tis i'th' house, and ready,  
If he will ask no more: but wine— Music.  2 Gent. 
He shall not drink it.  Sur. 
Will these things please ye?  Ant. 
Yes, and let 'em sing  
John Dorrie.  2 Gent. 
'Tis too long.  Ant. 
I'll have John Dorrie,  
For to that warlike tune I will be opened.  
Give me some drink, have ye stopped the leaks well Surgeon,  
All will run out else?  Surg. 
Fear not.  Ant. 
Sit down Gentlemen:  
And now advance your plasters. Song of Joh. Dorry.  
Give 'em ten shillings friends: how do ye find me?  
What Symptoms do you see now?  Sur. 
None Sir, dangerous:  
But if you will be ruled—  Ant. 
What time?  Surg. 
I can cure ye  
In forty days, so you will not transgress me.  Ant. 
I have a dog shall lick me whole in twenty:  
In how long canst thou kill me?  Surg. 
Presently.  Ant. 
Do it; there's more delight in't.  1 Gent. 
You must have patience.  Ant. 
Man, I must have business; this foolish fellow  
Hinders himself: I have a dozen Rascals  
To hurt within these five days: good man mender,  
Stop me up with Parsley, like stuffed Beef,  
And let me walk abroad.  Surg. 
Ye shall walk shortly.  Ant. 
For I must find Petruchio.  2. Gent. 
Time enough.  1 Gent. 
Come lead him in, and let him sleep: within these three days  
we'll beg ye leave to play.  2 Gent. 
And then how things fall,  
we'll certainly inform ye.  Ant. 
But Surgeon promise me  
I shall drink Wine then too.  Surg. 
A little tempered.  Ant. 
Nay, I'll no tempering Surgeon,  Surg. 
Well, as't please ye,  
So ye exceed not.  Ant. 
Farewell: and if ye find  
The Mad slave, that thus slashed me, commend me to him,  
And bid him keep his skin close.  1 Gent. 
Take your rest sir. Exeunt.   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Constantia, and Landlady. Con. 
I have told ye all I can, and more than yet  
Those Gentlemen know of me; ever trusting  
Your Council and concealment: for to me  
You seem a worthy woman; one of those  
Are seldom found in our sex, wise and virtuous,  
Direct me I beseech ye.  Land. 
Ye say well Lady,  
And hold ye to that point; for in these businesses  
A woman's council that conceives the matter,  
(Do ye mark me, that conceives the matter Lady)  
Is worth ten men's engagements: She knows something'  
And out of that can work like wax: when men  
Are giddy-headed, either out of wine,  
Or a more drunkenness, vain ostentation,  
Discovering all: there is no more keep in 'em,  
Then hold upon an Eels tail: nay 'tis held fashion  
To defame now all they can.  Con. 
ay, but these gentlemen—  Land. 
Do not you trust to that: these gentlemen  
Are as all Gentlemen of the same Barrel:  
ay, and the self same pickle too. Be it granted,  
They have used ye with respect and fair behaviour,  
Yet since ye came: do you know what must follow?  
They are Spaniards, Lady, Gennets of high mettle,  
Things that will thrash the devil, or his dam,  
Let 'em appear but cloven.  Con. 
Now heaven bless me.  Lan. 
Mad Colts will court the wind: I know 'em Lady  
To the least hair they have; and I tell you,  
Old is I am, let but the pint pot bless 'em,  
They'll offer to my years—  Con. 
How?  Lan. 
Such rude gambols—  Con. 
To you?  Lan. 
ay, and so handle me, that oft I am forced  
To fight of all four for my safety: there's the younger,  
Don John, the arrantst Jack in all this City:  
The other, time has blasted, yet he will stoop,  
If not o'erflown, and freely on the quarry;  
Has been a Dragon in his days. by'r Tarmont,  
Don Jenkin is the Devil himself, the dog-days,  
The most incomprehensible whoremaster,  
Twenty a night is nothing: Beggars, Broom-women,  
And those so miserable, they look like famine,  
Are all sweet Ladies in his drink.  Con. 
He's a handsome Gentleman.  
Pity he should be master of such follies.  Land. 
he's ne'er without a noise of Syringes  
In's pocket, those proclaim him; birding pills,  
Waters to cool his conscience, in small Viols;  
With thousand such sufficient emblems: the truth is,  
Whose chastity he chops upon, he cares not.  
He flies at all; Bastards upon my conscience,  
He has now in making multitudes; The last night  
He brought home one; I pity her that bore it,  
But we are all weak vessels, some rich woman  
(For wise I dare not call her) was the mother,  
For it was hung with Jewels: the bearing cloth  
No less than Crimson Velvet.  Con. 
How?  Land. 
'Tis true Lady.  Con. 
Was it a Boy too?  Land. 
A brave Boy; deliberation  
And judgement showed in's getting, as I'll say for him,  
He's as well paced for that sport—  Con. 
May I see it?  
For there is a neighbour of mine, a Gentlewoman,  
Has had a late mischance, which willingly  
I would know further of; now if you please  
To be so courteous to me.  Land. 
Ye shall see it:  
But what do ye think of these men now ye know 'em,  
And of the cause I told ye of? Be wise,  
Ye may repent too late else; I but tell ye  
For your own good, and as you will find it Lady.  Con. 
I am advised.  Land. 
No more words then; do that,  
And instantly, I told ye of be ready:  
Don john, I'll fit ye for your frumps,  Con. 
I shall be:  
But shall I see this Child?  Land. 
Within this half hour,  
Let's in, and there think better; she that's wise,  
Leaps at occasion first; the rest pay for it. Exeunt.   

Scene 4.  Enter Petruchio, Don john. and Fredrick. john 
Sir, he is worth your knowledge; and a Gentleman  
If I that so much love him, may commend him,  
Of free and virtuous parts; and one, if soul play  
Should fall upon us, for which fear I brought him,  
Will not fly back for Phillip's.  Pet. 
Ye much honour me,  
And once more I pronounce ye both mine.  Fred. 
Stay, what Troop  
Is that below i'th' valley there?  john 
Hawking I take it.  Pet. 
They are so; 'tis the Duke, 'tis even he Gentlemen,  
Sirrah, draw back the Horses till we call ye,  
I know him by his company.  Fred. 
I think too  
He bends up this way.  Pet. 
So he does.  john 
Stand you still  
Within that Covert till I call: you Fredrick,  
By no means be not seen, unless they offer  
To bring on odds upon us; he comes forward,  
Here will I wait him fairly: to your Cabins.  Pet. 
I need no more instruct ye?  john 
Fear me not,  
I'll give it him, and boldly. Ex: Pet. and Fred.  Enter Duke and his faction. Duke 
Feed the Hawks up,  
we'll fly no more today: O my blessed fortune,  
Have I so fairly met the man!  john 
Ye have Sir,  
And him you know by this,  Duke 
Sir all the honour,  
And love—  john 
I do beseech your Grace stay there,  
(For I know you too now) that love and honour  
I come not to receive; nor can you give it,  
Till ye appear fair to the world; I must beseech ye  
Dismiss your train a little.  Duke 
Walk aside,  
And out of hearing I command ye: Now Sir,  john 
Last time we met, I was a friend.  Duke 
And Nobly  
You did a friend's office: let your business  
Be what it may, you must be still—  john 
Your pardon,  
Never a friend to him, cannot be friend  
To his own honour.  Duke 
In what have I transgressed it?  
Ye make a bold breach at the first Sir.  john 
Bolder,  
You made that breach that let in infamy  
And ruin, to surprise a noble stock.  Duke 
Be plain Sir.  john 
I will, and short;  
Ye have wronged a Gentleman  
Little behind yourself, beyond all justice,  
Beyond mediation of all friends.  Duke 
The man, and manner of wrong?  
john Petruchio,  
The wrong, ye have whored his Sister.  Duke 
What's his will in't?  john 
His will is to oppose you like a Gentleman,  
And single, to decide all.  Duke 
Now stay you Sir,  
And hear me with the like belief: this Gentleman  
His Sister that you named, 'tis true I have long loved,  
Nor was that love lascivious, as he makes it;  
As true, I have enjoyed her: no less truth  
I have a child by her: But that she, or he,  
Or any of that family are tainted  
Suffer disgrace, or ruin, by my pleasures,  
I wear a Sword to satisfy the world no,  
And him in this cause when he please; for know Sir,  
She is my wife, contracted before Heaven,  
(Witness I owe more tie to, than her Brother)  
Nor will I fly from that name, which long since  
Had had the church's approbation,  
But for his jealous danger.  john 
Sir, your pardon,  
And all that was my anger, now my service.  Duke 
Fair sir, I knew I should convert ye; had we  
But that rough man herd now too—  john 
And ye shall Sir  
Whoa, hoa, ho.  Duke 
I hope ye have laid no Ambush? Enter Petru.  john 
Only friends.  Duke 
My noble Brother welcome:  
Come put your Anger off, we'll have no fighting,  
Unless you will maintain I am unworthy  
To bear that name.  Pet. 
Do you speak this heartily?  Duke 
upon my soul, and truly; the first Priest  
Shall put you out of these doubts.  Pet. 
Now I love ye;  
And I beseech you pardon my suspicions,  
You are now more than a Brother, a brave friend too.  john 
The good man's overjoyed Enter Fred.  Fred. 
How now, how goes it?  john 
Why, the man 'has his mare again, and all's well Fredrick,  
The Duke professes freely he's her husband.  Fred. 
'Tis a good hearing.  john 
Yes, for modest Gentlemen.  
I must present ye: may it please your Grace  
To number this brave Gentleman, my friend  
And noble kinsman, amongst those your servants.  Duke 
O my brave friend! you shower your bounties on me  
Amongst my best thoughts Signior, in which number  
You being worthily disposed already,  
May place your friend to honour me.  Fred. 
My love sir,  
And where your Grace dares trust me, all my service.  Pet. 
Why? this is wondrous happy: But now Brother,  
Now comes the bitter to our sweet: Constantia.  Duke 
Why, what of her?  Pet. 
Nor what, nor where, do I know?  
Winged with her fears last night, beyond my knowledge,  
She quit my house, but whether—  Fred. 
Let not that—  Duke 
No more good Sir, I have heard too much.  Pet. 
Nay sink not,  
She cannot be so lost.  john 
Nor shall not Gentlemen;  
Be free again, the lady's found; that smile Sir,  
Shows ye distrust your Servant.  Duke 
I do beseech ye.  john 
Ye shall believe me: by my soul she is safe.  Duke. 
Heaven knows, I would believe Sir.  Fred. 
Ye may safely.  john 
And under noble usage: this fair Gentleman  
Met her in all her doubts last night, and to his guard  
(Her fears being strong upon her) she gave her person,  
who waited on her, to our lodging; where all respect,  
Civil and honest service now attend her.  Pet 
Ye may believe now.  Duke 
Yes, I do, and strongly:  
Well my good friends, or rather my good Angels,  
For ye have both preserved me; when these virtues  
Die in your friend's remembrance—  john 
Good your grace  
Lose no more time in compliment, 'tis too precious,  
I know it by myself, there can be no hell  
To his that hangs upon his hopes; especially  
In way of lustily pleasures.  Pet. 
He has hit it.  Fred. 
To horse again then, for this night I'll crown  
With all the joys ye wish for.  Pet. 
Happy Gentlemen. Exeunt.  Enter Francisco. Fran. 
This is the maddest mischief: never fool  
Was so fobbed off, as I am; made ridiculous,  
And to myself, mine own Ass: trust a woman,  
I'll trust the Devil first; for he dare be  
Better than's word sometime: what faith have I broke?  
In what observance failed? Let me consider, Enter Don john. and Fred.  
For this is monstrous usage.  Fred. 
Let them talk,  
we'll ride on fair and softly.  Fran. 
Well Constantia,  Fred. 
Constantia, what's this fellow? stay by all means.  Fran. 
Ye have spun yourself a fair thread now.  Fred. 
Stand still john.  Fran. 
What cause had you to fly? what fear possessed ye?  
Were you not safely lodged from all suspicion?  
Used with all gentle means? did any know  
How ye came thither, or what your sin was.  Fred. 
john.  
smell some juggling John.  John 
Yes, Fredricks, I fear it will be found so.  Fran. 
So strangely,  
Without the counsel of your friends; so desperately  
To put all dangers on ye?  Fred. 
'Tis she.  Fran. 
So deceitfully  
After a stranger's lure?  John 
Did ye mark that Fredrick?  Fran. 
To make ye appear more monster; and the Law  
More cruel to reward ye? to leave all,  
All that should be your safeguard, to seek evils?  
Was this your wisdom? this your promise? well  
He that incited ye—  Fred. 
Mark that too.  John 
Yes Sir.  Fran. 
'Had better have ploughed farther off; now Lady,  
What will your last friend, he that should preserve ye,  
And hold your credit up, the brave Antonio,  
Think of this slip? he'll to Petruchio,  
And call for open justice.  John 
'Tis she Fredrick.  Fred. 
But what that he is John.  Fran. 
I do not doubt yet  
To bolt ye out, for I know certainly  
Ye are about the Town still: ha, no more words. Ex.  Fred. 
Well.  john 
Very well.  Fred. 
Discreetly.  john 
Finely carried.  Fred. 
You have no more of these tricks?  john 
Ten to one Sir,  
I shall meet with 'em if ye have.  Fred. 
Is this honest?  john 
Was it in you a friend's part to deal double?  
I am no ass Don Fredrick.  Fred. 
And Don john,  
It shall appear I am no fool;  
Disgrace me to make yourself a lecher?  
'Tis boyish, 'tis base.  john 
'Tis false, and most unmanly to upbraid me,  
Nor will I be your bolster Sir,  Fred. 
Thou wanton boy, thou hadst better have been Eunuch,  
Thou common woman's courtesy, then thus  
Lascivious, basely to have bent mine honour.  
A friend? I'll make a horse my friend first!  john 
Holla, holla,  
Ye kick to fast sir: what strange brains have you got,  
That dare crow out thus bravely? I better been a Eunuch?  
I privy to this dog trick? clear yourself,  
For I know where the wind sits, and most nobly,  
Or as I have a life—  Fred. 
No more: they're horses. A noise within like horses.  
Nor show no discontent: tomorrow comes;  
Let's quietly away: if she be at home,  
Our jealousies are put off.  john 
The fellow Enter Duke, Petruchio.  
We have lost him in our spleens, like fools.  Duke 
Come Gentlemen,  
Now set on roundly; suppose ye have all mistresses,  
And mend your pace according,  Pet. 
Then have at ye. Exeunt    

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Duke, Petruchio, Fredrick, and john. Pet. 
NOw to Bologna, my most honoured brother,  
I dare pronounce yea hearty, and safe welcome,  
Our loves shall now waylay ye; welcome Gentlemen.  john 
The same to you brave Sir; Don Fredrick  
Will ye step in, and give the Lady notice  
Who comes to honour her?  Pet. 
Bid her be sudden,  
We come to see no curious wench: a nightgown  
Will serve the turn: here's one that knows her nearer.  Fred. 
I'll tell her what ye say Sir. Ex. Fred.  Duke 
My dear brother,  
Ye are a merry Gentleman.  Pet. 
Now will the sport be  
To observe her alterations; how like wildfire  
She'll leap into your bosom; then seeing me,  
Her conscience, and her fears creeping upon her  
Dead as a foul at sauce, she'll sink.  Duke 
Fair brother,  
I must entreat you—  Pet. 
I conceive your mind Sir,  
I will not chide her: yet ten ducats Duke,  
She falls upon he knees, ten more she dare not—  Duke 
I must not have her frighted.  Pet. 
Well you shall not: Enter Fred. and Peter.  
But like a summer's evening against heat,  
Mark how I'll guild he cheeks?  john 
How now.  Fred. 
Ye may Sir:  
Not to abuse your patience, noble friends,  
Nor hold ye off with tedious circumstance,  
For you must know,—  Petr. 
What?  Duke 
Where is she?  Fred. 
Gone Sir.  Duke 
How?  Petr. 
What did you say Sir?  Fred. 
Gone, by heaven removed,  
The woman of the house too.  john 
Well Don Fredrick.  Fred. 
Don john, it is not well, but—  Pet. 
Gone?  Fred. 
This fellow  
Can testify I lie not.  Peter 
Some four hours after  
My Master was departed with this Gentleman,  
My fellow and myself, being sent of business,  
(As we must think) of purpose—  Petr. 
Hang these circumstances,  
They appear like owls, to ill ends.  john 
Now could I eat  
The devil in his own broth, I am so tortured.  
Gone?  Petr. 
Gone?  Fred. 
Directly gone, fled, shifted: what would you have me say?  Duke 
Well Gentlemen,  
Wrong not my good opinion.  Fred. 
For your Dukedom  
I will not be a knave Sir.  john 
He that is  
A rot run in his blood.  Petr. 
But hark ye Gentlemen,  
Are ye sure ye had her here, did ye not dream this.  john 
Have you your nose Sir?  Petr. 
Yes Sir.  john 
Then we had her.  Petr. 
Since you are so short, believe your having her  
Shall suffer more construction.  john 
Let it suffer,  
But if I be not clear of all dishonour,  
Or practice that may taint my reputation,  
And ignorant of where this woman is,  
Make me your City's monster.  Duke 
I believe ye.  John 
I could lie with a witch now, to be revenged  
Upon that Rascal did this.  Fred. 
Only thus much  
I would desire your Grace, for my mind gives me  
Before night yet she is yours: stop all opinion,  
And let no anger out, till full cause call it,  
Than every man's own work's to justify him,  
And this day let us give to search: my man here  
Tells me, by chance he saw out of a window  
(Which place he has taken note of) such a face  
As our old Landladies, he believes the same too,  
And by her hood assures it: Let's first thither,  
For she being found, all's ended.  Duke 
Come, for heaven's sake,  
And Fortune, and thou be'st not ever turning,  
If there be one firm step in all thy reelings,  
Now settle it, and save my hopes: away friends. Exeunt.   

Scene 2.  Enter Antonio and his Servant. Ant. 
With all my jewels?  Ser. 
All Sir.  Ant. 
And that money  
I left i'th' trunk?  Ser. 
The Trunk broke, and that gone too.  Ant. 
Franscisco of the plot?  Ser. 
Gone with the wench too.  Ant. 
The mighty pox go with 'em: belike they thought  
I was no man of this world, and those trifles  
Would but disturb my conscience.  Ser. 
Sure they thought Sir,  
You would not live to persecute 'em.  Ant. 
Whore and Fiddler,  
Why, what a consort have they made? Hen and bacon?  
Well my sweet Mistress, well good Madam martaile?  
You that have hung about my neck, and licked me,  
I'll try how handsomely your Ladyship  
Can hang upon a Gallows, there's your Masterpiece;  
But hark ye Sirrah, no imagition Bawd ready above.  
Of where they should be?  Ser. 
None Sir, yet we have searched  
All places we suspected; I believe Sir,  
They have taken towards the Ports.  Ant. 
Get me a conjurer,  
One that can raise a water devil, I'll port 'em;  
Play at duck and drake with my money? take heed Fidler;  
I'll dance ye by this hand, your Fiddlestick  
I'll grease of a new fashion, for presuming  
To meddle with my degamboys: get me a Conjurer,  
inquire me out a man that lets out devils:  
None but my C. Cliff serve your turn?  Ser. 
I know not—  Ant. 
In every street, Tom fool, any blear-eyed people  
With red heads, and flat noses can perform it;  
Thou shalt know 'em by their half gowns & no breeches:  
Mount my mare Fidler? ha boy? up at first dash?  
Sit sure, I'll clap a nettle, and a smart one,  
Shall make your filly firk: I will find Fidler,  
I'll put you to your plunge boy: Sirrah meet me  
Some two hours hence at home; In the mean time  
Find out a conjurer and know his price,  
How he will let his devils by the day out,  
I'll have 'em, and they be above ground. Exit Ant.  Ser. 
Now bless me,  
What a mad man is this? I must do something  
To please his humour: such a man I'll ask for,  
And tell him where he is: but to come near him,  
Or have any thing to do with his done devils,  
I thank my fear, I dare not, nor I will not. Exit.   

Scene 3.  Enter Duke, Petruchio, Fredrick, John, Peter, Servant with bottles. Fred. 
Whether wilt thou lead us?  Pet. 
'Tis hard by sir.  
And ten to one this wine goes thither.  Duke. 
Forward.  Petr. 
Are they grown so merry.  Duke 
'Tis most likely  
She has heard of this good fortune, and determines  
To wash her sorrows off.  Pet. 
'Tis so; that house sir  
Is it: out of that window certainly  
I saw my old Mistress's face.  Petr. 
They are merry indeed, Music.  
Hark I hear Music too.  Duke 
Excellent Music.  John 
Would I were e'en among 'em and alone how,  
A  for the purpose in a corner,  
And good rich wine within me; what gay sport  
Could I make in an hour now? Song.  Fred. 
Hark a voice too;  
Let's not stir yet by any means.  John 
Was this her own voice?  Duke 
Yes sure.  Fred. 
'Tis a rare one. Enter Bawd (above)  Du. 
The Song confirms her here too: for if ye mark it,  
It spoke of liberty, and free enjoying  
The happy end of pleasure.  Petr. 
Look ye there sir,  
Do ye know that head?  Fred. 
'Tis my good Landlady,  
I find fear has done all this.  John 
she I swear,  
And now do I know by the hanging of her hood,  
She is parcel drunk: shall we go in?  Duke 
Not yet Sir.  Pet. 
No, let 'em take their pleasure,  Duke 
When it is highest, Music.  
we'll step in, and amaze 'em: peace more Music.  John 
This Music murders me; what blood have I now?  Fred. 
I should know that face. Enter Fran. and Exit.  John 
By this light 'tis he Fredricks,  
That bred our first suspicions, the same fellow.  Fred. 
He that we overtook, and overheard too  
Discoursing of Constantia.  John 
Still the same;  
Now he slips in.  Du. 
What's that?  Fred. 
She must be here Sir:  
This is the very fellow, I told your Grace Enter Fran.  
We found upon the way; and what his talk was.  Petr. 
Why, sure I know this fellow; yes, 'tis he,  
Francisco, Antonio's Boy, a rare Musician,  
He taught my Sister on the Lute, and is ever  
(She loves his voice so well) about her: certain,  
Without all doubt she is here: it must be so.  John 
Here? that's no question: what should our hen o'th' game else  
Do here without her? if she be not here  
(I am so confident) let your Grace believe,  
We two are arrant Rascals, and have abused ye.  Fred. 
I say so too.  John 
Why there's the hood again now,  
The guard that guides us; I know the fabric of it.  
And know the old tree of that saddle yet, 'twas made of  
A hunting hood, observe it.  Du. 
Who shall enter?  Petr. 
I'll make one.  John 
ay, another.  Du. 
But so carry it,  
That all her joys flow not together.  John 
If we told her,  
Your Grace would none of her?  Du. 
By no means Signior,  
'Twould turn her wild, stark frantic.  john 
Or assured her—  Du. 
Nothing of that? starve nature? this ye may sir.  
That the conditions of our fear yet stand  
On nice and dangerous knittings: or that a little  
I seem to doubt the child.  john 
Would I could draw her  
To hate your Grace with these things.  Petr. 
Come let's enter, Exit. Pet. and Ioh. Music.  
And now he sees me not, I'll search her soundly.  Du. 
Now luck of all sides.  Fred 
Doubt it not: more Music:  
Sure she has heard some comfort.  Du. 
Yes, stand still sir.  Fred. 
This is the maddest song.  Du. 
Applied for certain clapping of a door.  
To some strange melancholy she is laden with.  Fred. 
Now all the sport begins— hark?  Du. 
They are amongst'em,  
The fears now, and the shakings? Trampling above.  Fred. 
Our old Lady  
(Hark how they run) is even now at this instant Cease Music Petr. and john within.  
Ready to lose her head piece by Don john,  
Or creeping through a Cat hole.  Petr. 
Bring 'em down,  
And you sir, follow me.  Du. 
he's angry with 'em,  
I must not suffer this.  
Bowl down the Bawd there john within.  
Old Erra mater: you Lady lechery  
For the good will I bear toth' game, most tenderly  
Shall be led out, and lashed.  Enter Petruchio, john, Whore, and Bawd, with Francisco. Du. 
Is this Constantia?  
Why Gentlemen? what do you mean? is this she?  Whore 
I am Constantia sir.  Du. 
A Whore ye are sir.  Whore 
'Tis very true: I am a Whore indeed sir.  Petr. 
She will not lie yet, though she steal.  Whore 
A plain whore,  
If you please to employ me.  Du. 
And an impudent—  Whore 
Plain dealing now is impudence.  
One if you will sir, can show ye as much sport  
In one half hour, and with as much variety,  
As a far wiser woman can in half a year:  
For there my way lies.  Du. 
Is she not drunk too?  Whore 
A little guilded o'er sir,  
Old sack, old sack boys.  Petr. 
This is salient.  john 
A brave bold quean.  Du. 
Is this your certainty?  
Do ye know the man ye wrong thus, Gentlemen?  
Is this the woman meant?  Fred. 
No.  Du. 
That your Landlady?  john 
I know not what to say.  Du. 
Am I a person  
To be your sport Gentlemen?  john 
I do believe now certain  
I am a knave; but how, or when—  Du. 
What are you?  Petr. 
Bawd to this piece of pie meat.  Bawd 
A poor Gentlewoman  
That lies in Town, about Law business,  
an't like your worships.  Petr. 
You shall have Law, believe it.  Bawd 
I'll show your mastership my case.  Petr. 
By no means,  
I had rather see a Custard.  Bawd 
My dead husband  
Left it even thus sir.  john 
Bless mine eyes from blasting,  
I was never so frighted with a case.  Bawd 
And so sir—  Petr. 
Enough, put up good velvet head.  Du. 
What are you two now,  
By your own free confessions?  Fred. 
What you shall think us,  
Though to myself I am certain, and my life  
Shall make that good and perfect, or fall with it.  Io. 
We are sure of nothing (Fred) that's the truth on't:  
I do not think my name's Don John, nor dare not  
Believe any thing that concerns me, but my debts,  
Nor those in way of payment: things are so carried,  
What to entreat your Grace, or how to tell ye  
We are, or we are not, is past my cunning,  
But I would fain imagine we are honest,  
And o' my conscience, I should fight in't—  Du. 
Thus then,  
For we may be all abused.  Petr. 
'Tis possible,  
For how should this concern them?  Du. 
Here let's part—  
Until tomorrow this time: we to our way,  
To make this doubt out, and you to your way;  
Pawning our honours then to meet again,  
When if she be not found.  Fred. 
We stand engaged  
To answer any worthy way we are called to.  Du. 
We ask no more.  Whore 
Ye have done with us then?  Petr. 
No Dame.  Du. 
But is her name Constantia?  Petr. 
Yes a movable  
Belonging to a friend of mine: come out Fiddler,  
What say you to this Lady; be not fearful?  Fran. 
Saving the reverence of my Master's pleasure,  
I say she is a whore, and that she has robbed him,  
Hoping his hurts would kill him.  Whore. 
Who provoked me?  
Nay sirrah squeak, I'll see your treble strings  
Tied up too; if I hang, I'll spoil your piping,  
Your sweet face shall not save ye.  Petr. 
Thou damned impudence,  
And thou dried devil; where's the Officer?  Peter 
he's here sir. Enter Officer.  Petr. 
Lodge these safe till I send for 'em;  
Let none come to 'em, nor no noise be heard  
Of where they are, or why: away.  John. 
By this hand  
A handsome whore: Now will I be arrested,  
And brought home to this officers: a stout whore,  
I love such stirring ware: pox o' this business,  
A man must haunt out morsels for another,  
And starve himself: a quick-eyed whore, that's wildfire,  
And makes the blood dance through the veins like billows.  
I will reprieve this whore.  Duke. 
Well, good luck with ye.  Fred. 
As much attend your Grace.  Petr. 
Tomorrow certain—  John 
If we outlive this night sir.  Fred. 
Come Don John,  
We have something now to do.  Ioh. 
I am sure I would have.  Fred. 
If she be not found, we must fight.  Joh. 
I am glad on't,  
I have not fought a great while.  Fred. 
If we die—  Jo. 
there's so much money saved in lechery. Exeunt.    

Actus Quintus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Duke, Petruchio below, and Vechio above. Duke. 
IT should be hereabouts.  Petr. 
Your grace is right,  
This is the house I know it.  Voch. 
Grace?  Duke 
'Tis further  
By the description we received.  Petr. 
Good my Lord the Duke,  
Believe me, for I know it certainly,  
This is the very house.  Vech. 
My Lord the Duke?  Duk. 
Pray heaven this man Prove right now.  Petr. 
Believe it, he's a most sufficient Scholar,  
And can do rare tricks this way; for a figure,  
Or raising an appearance, whole Christendom  
Has not a better; I have heard strange wonders of him.  Duke. 
But can he show us where she is?  Petr. 
Most certain,  
And for what cause too she departed.  Du. 
Knock then,  
For I am great with expectation,  
Till this man satisfy me: I fear the Spaniards,  
Yet they appear brave fellows: can he tell us?  Petr. 
With a wet finger, whether they be false.  Duke. 
Away then.  Petr. 
Who's within here? Enter Vechio.  Vech. 
Your Grace may enter.  Du. 
How can he know me?  Petr. 
He knows all.  Vech. 
And you sir. Exeunt.   

Scene. 2.  Enter Don John, and Fredrick. John 
What do you call his name?  Fred. 
Why, Peter Vechio.  john 
They say he can raise devils,  
Can he make 'em  
Tell truth too, when he has raised 'em? for believe it,  
These devils are the lyingst Rascals.  Fred. 
He can compel 'em.  John 
With what? can he  
Tie squibs in their tails, and fire the truth out?  
Or make 'em eat a bawling Puritan,  
Whose sanctified zeal shall rumble like an Earthquake?  Fred. 
With Spells man?  John 
I with spoons as soon, dost thou think  
The devil such an Ass as people make him?  
Such a poor coxcomb? such a penny foot post?  
Compelled with cross and pile to run of errands?  
With Asteroth, and Behemoth, and Belfagor?  
Why should he shake at sounds, that lives in a smith's forge?  
Or if he do—  Fred. 
Without all doubt he does john.  john 
Why should not Bilbo raise him, or a pair of bullions,  
They go as big as any? or an unshod Car,  
When he goes tumble, tumble o'er the stones,  
Like Anacreon's drunken verses, make us tremble?  
These make as fell a noise; methinks the colic  
Well handled, and fed with small beer—  Fred. 
'Tis the virtue—  john 
The virtue? nay, and goodness fetch him up once,  
Has lost a friend of me; the wise old Gentleman  
Knows when, and how; I'll lay this hand to two pence,  
Let all the Conjurers in Christendom,  
With all their spells, and virtues call upon him,  
And I but think upon a wench, and follow it,  
He shall be sooner mine than theirs; where's virtue?  Fred. 
Thou art the most sufficient, (I'll say for thee)  
Not to believe a thing—  john 
O sir, slow credit  
Is the best child of knowledge; I'll go with ye,  
And if he can do any thing, I'll think  
As you would have me.  Fred. 
Let's inquire along,  
For certain we are not far off.  John 
Nor much nearer. Exeunt.   

Scene 3.  Enter Duke, Petrachio, and Vechio. Vech. 
You lost her yesternight.  Pet. 
How think you sir?  Du. 
Is your name Vechio?  Vech. 
Yes sir.  Du. 
And you can show me  
These; things you promise.  Vech. 
Your grace's word bound to me,  
No hand of Law shall seize me.  Du. 
As I live sir—  Petr. 
And as I live, that can do something too sir.  Vech. 
I take your promises: stay here a little,  
Till I prepare some Ceremonies, and I'll satisfy ye.  
The lady's name's Constantia?  Pet. 
Yes  Vech. 
I come straight. Exit Vech.  Du. 
Sure he's a learned man.  Petr. 
The most now living;  
Did your grace mark when we told all these circumstances,  
however and anon he bolted from us  
To use his studies help?  Du. 
Now I think rather  
To talk with some familiar.  Petr. 
Not unlikely,  
For sure he has 'em subject.  Du. 
How could he else  
Tell when she went, and who went with her?  Petr. 
True.  Du. 
Or hit upon mine honour: or assure me  
The Lady loved me dearly?  Enter Vechio in his habiliments. Pet. 
'Twas so.  Vech. 
Now,  
I do beseech your Grace sit down, and you sir;  
Nay pray sit close like brothers.  Petr. 
A rare fellow.  Vech. 
And what ye see, stir not at, nor use a word,  
Until I ask ye; for what shall appear  
Is but weak apparition and thin air  
Not to be held, nor spoken too. Knocking within.  John, Frederick, and a Servant within. Du. 
We are counselled—  Vech. 
What noise is that without there?  Fred. Within. 
We must speak with him.  Ser. Within. 
he's busy Gentlemen.  john. Within. 
That's all one friend,  
We must, and will speak with him.  Du. 
Let 'em in sir,  
We know their tongues and business, 'tis our own,  
And in this very cause that we now come for,  
They also come to be instructed.  Vech. 
Let 'em in then:  
Sit down, I know your meaning.  Enter Frederick, john, and Servant. Fred. 
The Duke before us,  
Now we shall sure know something.  Vech. 
Not a question,  
But make your eyes, your tongues—  john 
This is a strange juggler,  
Neither indent before hand for his payment,  
Nor know the breadth of the business; sure his devil  
Comes out of Lapland were they sell men winds,  
For dead drink, and old doublets.  Fred. 
Peace, he conjures.  john 
Let him, he cannot raise my devil.  Fred, 
Prithee peace.  Vech. 

Appear, appear,  
And you soft winds so clear,  
That dance upon the leaves, and make them sing  
Gentle love-lays to the Spring,  
Gilding all the vales below  
With your verdure as ye blow,  
Raise these forms from under ground  
With a soft and happy sound.   Soft Music. john. 
This is an honest Conjurer, and a pretty Poet;  
I like his words well, there's no bombast in 'em,  
But do you think now, he can cudgel up the devil,  
With this short staff of Verses?  Fred. 
Peace the spirits— 2. Shapes of women pass by.  john 
Nay, and they be no worse—  Vech. 
Do ye know these faces?  Duke 
No.  Vech. 
Sit still upon your lives then: and mark what follows:  
Away, away.  john 
These devils do not paint sure?  
Have they no sweeter shapes in hell? Constantia passes by.  Fred. 
Hark now john.  john 
I marry, this moves something like, this devil  
Carries some metal in her gate.  Vech. 
I find ye,  
You would see her face unveiled?  Du. 
Yes.  Vech. 
Be uncovered.  Du. 
O heaven!  Vech. 
Peace.  Petr. 
See how she blushes.  john 
Fredrick,  
This devil for my money; this is she Boy,  
Why thou shake? I burn.  Vech. 
Sit still, and silent.  Du. 
She looks back at me; now she smiles sir.  Vech. 
Silence.  Du. 
I must rise, or burst. Exit. Const.  Vech. 
Ye see what follows—  Du. 
O gentle sir this shape again.  Vech. 
I cannot,  
'Tis all dissolved again: this was the figure.  Du. 
The very same sir.  Petr. 
No hope once more to see it?  Ve. 
You might have kept it longer, had ye spared it,  
Now 'tis impossible.  Du. 
No means to find it?  Ve. 
Yes that there is: sit still a while, there's wine  
To thaw the wonder from your hearts: drink well sir.  Ex. Vech. john 
This Conjurer is a right good fellow too,  
A lad of mettle; two such devils more  
Would make me a Conjurer: what wine is it?  Fred. 
Hollock.  john. 
The devil's in it then, look how it dances?  
Well, if I be—  Petr. 
We are all before ye,  
That's your best comfort sir.  john 
byth' mass brave wine;  
Nay, and the Devils live in this hell, I dare venture  
Within these two months yet to be delivered  
Of a large legion of 'em. Enter Vechio.  Du. 
Here 'a comes,  
Silence of all sides Gentlemen.  Vec. 
Good your grace,  
Observe a stricter temper, and you too gallants,  
You'll be deluded all else. This merry devil  
That next appears, for such a one you'll find it,  
Must be called up by a strange incantation,  
A Song, and I must sing it: pray bear with me,  
And pardon my rude pipe; for yet ere parting  
Twenty to one I please ye.  Du. 
We are armed Sir.  Pet. 
Nor shall you see us more transgress.  Fred. 
What think'st thou  
Now john?  john 
Why, now do I think Fredrick,  
(And it I think amiss heaven pardon me,)  
This honest Conjurer, with some four or five  
Of his good fellow devils, and myself,  
Shall be yet drunk ere midnight. Song.  Fred. 
Peace, he conjures.  john 
Why, this is the Song Fredrick: twenty pound now  
To see but our Don Gillian.  Enter Landlady and the Child. Fred. 
Peace it appears.  john 
I cannot peace: devils in French hoods Fredrick?  
Satan's old Sirings?  Du. 
What's this?  Vech. 
Peace.  john 
She, Boy.  Fred. 
What dost thou mean?  john 
She, Boy, I say.  Fred. 
Ha?  john 
She, boy.  
The very child too Fredrick;  Fred. 
She laughs on us  
Aloud john, has the devil these affections?  
I do believe 'tis she indeed.  Vech. 
Stand still.  john. 
I will not;  
Who calls Jeronimo from his naked bed?  
Sweet Lady, was it you? If thou be'st the devil,  
First, having crossed myself, to keep out wildfire,  
Then said some special prayers to defend me  
Against thy most unhallowed hood: have at thee.  Land. 
Hold sir, I am no devil.  john 
That's all one.  Land. 
I am your very Landlady.  john 
I defy thee:  
Thus as St. Dunstan blew the devil's nose  
With a pair of tongs, even so right worshipful—  Land. 
Sweet son, I am old Gillion.  Du. 
This is no spirit.  john 
Art thou old Gillian, flesh and bone?  Land. 
I am Son.  Vech. 
Sit still sir, now I'll show you all. Ex. Vech.  john 
Where's thy bottle?  Land. 
Here, I beseech ye son—  john 
For I know the devil  
Cannot assume that shape.  Fred. 
'tis she john, certain—  john 
A hog's pox o'your mouldy chaps, what make you  
Tumbling and juggling here?  Land. 
I am quit now Signior,  
For all the pranks you played, and railings at me,  
For to tell true, out of a trick I put  
Upon your high behaviours, which was a lie,  
But then it served my turn, I drew the Lady  
Unto my kinsman's here, only to torture  
Your Donships for a day or two; and secure her  
Out of all thoughts of danger: here she comes now.  Enter Vechio, and Constantia. Du. 
May I yet speak?  Vech. 
Yes, and embrace her too,  
For one that loves you dearer—  Du. 
O my sweetest.  Petr. 
Blush not, I will not chide ye.  Const. 
To add more  
Unto the joy I know, I bring ye, see sir,  
The happy fruit of all our vows.  Du. 
heaven's blessing  
Be round about thee ever.  john 
Pray bless me to,  
For if your grace be well instructed this way,  
You'll find the keeping half the getting.  Du. 
How sir?  john 
I'll tell ye that anon.  Const. 
'Tis true this Gentleman  
'Has done a charity worthy your favour,  
And let him have it dear sir.  Du. 
My best Lady  
She has, and ever shall have: so must you sir,  
To whom I am equal bound, as to my being.  Fred. 
Your grace's humble servants—  Du. 
Why kneel you sir?  Ve. 
For pardon for my boldness: yet 'twas harmless  
And all the art I have sir; those your grace saw  
Which you thought spirits, were my neighbour's children  
Whom I instruct in Grammar, here, and Music;  
Their shapes, the people's fond opinions,  
Believing I can conjure, and oft repairing  
To know of things stolen from 'em, I keep about me,  
And always have in readiness; by conjecture  
Out of their own confessions, I oft tell 'em  
Things, that by chance have fallen out so: which way  
(Having the persons here, I knew you sought for)  
I wrought upon your grace: my end is mirth,  
And pleasing, if I can, all parties.  Du. 
I believe it,  
For you have pleased me truly: so well pleased me,  
That when I shall forget it—  Petr. 
Here's old Antonio,  
I spied him at a window, coming mainly  
I know about his whore, the man you light on,  
As yond discovered unto me: good your Grace,  
Let's stand by all, 'twill be a mirth above all,  
To observe his pelting fury.  Vech. 
About a wench sir?  Petr. 
A young whore that has robbed him,  Vech. 
But do you know sir,  
Where she is?  Petr. 
Yes, and will make that perfect—  Vech. 
I am instructed well then.  john 
If he come  
To have a devil showed him, by all means  
Let me be he, I can roar rarely.  Petr. 
Be so,  
But take heed to his anger.  Vech. 
Slip in quickly,  
There you shall find suits of all sorts: when I call,  
Be ready and come forward. Ex. all but Vech.  
Who's there come in?  Enter Antonio. Ant. 
Are you the Conjurer?  Vech. 
Sir I can do a little  
That way, if you please to employ me.  Ant. 
Presently show me a devil that can tell—  Vech. 
Where your wench is.  Ant. 
You are i'th' right; as also where the Fiddler  
That was consenting to her.  Vech. 
Sit ye there sir,  
Ye shall know presently: can ye pray heartily?  Ant. 
Why, is your devil so furious?  Vech. 
I must show ye  
A form, may chance affright ye.  Ant. 
He must fart fire then:  
Take you no care for me.  Vech. 
Ascend Asterth, Enter Don John like a Spirit.  
Why, when, appear I say— Now question him.  Ant. 
Where is my whore Don devil?  john 
Gone to China,  
To be the great cham's Mistress.  Ant. 
That's a lie devil:  
Where are my jewels?  john 
Pawned for Petticoats.  Ant. 
That may be; where's the Fiddler?  john 
Condemned to th' Gallows,  
For robbing of a Mill.  Ant. 
The lyingst devil  
That e'er I dealt withal, and the unlikeliest:  
What was that Rascal hurt me?  john 
I.  Ant. 
How?  john 
I.  Ant. 
Who was he?  John 
I.  Ant. 
Do ye here conjurer,  
Dare you venture your devil?  Vech. 
Yes.  Ant. 
Then I'll venture my dagger;  
Have at your devils pate; do ye mew? Enter all.  Vech. 
Hold.  Pet. 
Hold there,  
I do command ye hold.  Ant. 
Is this the devil?  
Why Conjurer—  Pet. 
'Has been a devil to you sir.  
But now you shall forget all: your whores safe,  
And all your Jewels: your Boy too.  John 
Now the devil indeed  
Lay his ten claws upon thee, for my pate  
Finds what it is to be a fend.  Ant. 
All safe?  Pet. 
Pray ye know this person: all's right now.  Ant. 
Your grace  
May now command me then: but where's my whore?  Petr. 
Ready to go to whipping.  Ant. 
My whore whipped?  Petr. 
Yes, your whore without doubt Sir.  Ant. 
Whipped? pray Gentlemen.  Du. 
Why, would you have her once more rob ye? the young boy  
You may forgive, he was enticed.  john 
The Whore sir,  
Would rather carry pity: a handsome Whore.  Ant. 
A Gentleman I warrant thee.  Petr. 
Let's in all.  
And if we see contrition in your whore sir,  
Much may be done.  Duke 
Now my dear fair, to you,  
And the full consummation of my Vow.     

Prologue.  
aptness for mirth to all, this instant night  
Thalia hath prepared for your delight,  
Her choice and curious Viands, in each part,  
Seasoned with rarities of wit, as Art;  
Nor fear I to be taxed for a vain boast,  
My promise will find credit with the most,  
When they know Ingenuous Fletcher made it, he  
Being in himself a perfect Comedy.  
And some sit here, I doubt not dare a verre,  
Living he made that house a Theater  
Which he pleased to frequent; and thus much we  
Could not but pay to his loud memory.  
For ourselves we do entreat that you would not  
Expect strange turns, and windings in the Plot,  
Objects of State, and now and then a rhyme,  
To gall particular persons, with the time;  
Or that his to wring Muse hath made her flight  
Nearer your apprehension than your sight:  
But if that sweet expressions, quick conceit,  
Familiar language, fashioned to the weight  
Of such as speak it, have the power to raise  
Your grace to us, with Trophies to his praise:  
We may profess, presuming on his skill,  
If his Chances please not you, our fortune's ill.   

Epilogue.  
WE have not held you long, nor do I see  
One brow in this selected company  
Assuring a dislike, our pains were eased.  
Could we be confident that all rise pleased:  
But such ambition soars too high: If we  
Have satisfied the best, and they agree  
In a fair censure, We have our reward;  
And in them armed, desire no surer guard.  
FINIS.