THE woman's PRIZE: OR, The Tamer Tamed.  

Actus Primus  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Moroso, Sophocles, and Tranio, with Rosemary, as from a wedding. Moroso. 
GOd give 'em joy.  Tra. 
Amen.  Soph. 
Amen, say I to:  
The Puddings now i'th' proof; alas poor wench,  
Through what a mine of patience must thou work,  
Ere thou know'st good hour more?  Tra. 
'tis too true: Certain,  
methinks her father has dealt harshly with her,  
Exceeding harshly, and not like a Father,  
To match her to this Dragon; I protest  
I pity the poor Gentlewoman.  Mor. 
methinks now,  
He's not so terrible as people think him.  Soph. 
This old thief flatters, out of mere devotion,  
To please the father for his second daughter.  Tra. 
But shall he have her?  Soph. 
Yes, when I have Rome.  
And yet the father's for him.  Mor. 
I'll assure ye,  
I hold him a good man.  Soph. 
Yes sure a wealthy,  
But whether a good woman's man, is doubtful.  Tra. 
Would 'twere no worse.  Mor. 
What though his other wife,  
Out of her most abundant soberness,  
Out of her daily hue and cries upon him,  
(For sure she was a Rebel) turned his temper,  
And forced him blow as high as she? dost follow  
He must retain that long since buried Tempest,  
To this soft maid?  Soph. 
I fear it.  Tra. 
So do I too:  
And so far, that if God had made me woman,  
And his wife that must be—  Mor. 
What would you do sir?  Tra. 
I would learn to eat Coals with an angry Cat,  
And spit fire at him: I would (to prevent him)  
Do all the ramping, roaring tricks, a whore  
Being drunk, and tumbling ripe, would tremble at:  
There is no safety else, nor moral wisdom,  
To be a wife, and his.  Soph. 
So I should think too.  Tra. 
For yet the bare remembrance of his first wife  
(I tell ye on my knowledge, and a truth too)  
Will make him start in's sleep, and very often  
Cry out for Cudgels, Colstaves, any thing;  
Hiding his Breeches, out of fear her Ghost  
Should walk, and wear 'em yet. Since his first marriage,  
He is no more the still Petruchio,  
Than I am Babylon.  Soph. 
He's a good felloW,  
And on my word I love him: but to think  
A fit match for this tender soul—  Tra. 
His very frown, if she but say her prayers  
Louder than men talk treason, makes him tinder;  
The motion of a Dial, when he's testy,  
Is the same trouble to him as a waterwork;  
She must do nothing of herself; not eat,  
Drink, say sir how do ye, make her ready, unready,  
Unless he bid her.  Soph. 
He will bury her  
Ten pound to twenty shillings, within these three weeks.  Tra: 
I'll be your half.  Enter Jaques with a pot of Wine. Mor. 
He loves her most extremely,  
And so long 'twill be honeymoon. Now Jaques  
You are a busy man I am sure.  Jaq. 
Yes certain,  
This old sport must have eggs,  Soph. 
Not yet this ten days.  Jaq. 
Sweet Gentlemen with muskadel.  Tra. 
That's right sir.  Mor. 
This fellow broods his Master: speed ye Jaques.  Soph. 
We shall be for you presently.  Jaq. 
Your worships  
Shall have it rich and neat: and o' my conscience  
As welcome as our Lady day: O my old sir,  
When shall we see your worship run at Ring?  
That hour a standing were worth money  Mor. 
So sir.  Jaq. 
Upon my little honesty, your Mistress,  
If I have any speculation, must think  
This single thrumming of a Fiddle,  
Without a Bow, but e'en poor sport.  Mor. 
You're merry.  Ja. 
Would I were wise too: so God bless your worship.  Tra. 
The fellow tells you true. Exit Jaq.  Soph. 
When is the day man?  
Come, come, you'll steal a marriage.  Mor. 
Nay believe me:  
But when her father pleases I am ready,  
And all my friends shall know it.  Tra. 
Why not now?  
One charge had served for both.  Mor. 
There's reason in't.  Soph. 
Called Rowland.  Mor. 
Will ye walk?  
They'll think we are lost: Come Gentlemen.  Tra. 
You have wiped him now.  Soph. 
So will he never the wench I hope.  Tra. 
I wish it. Exeunt.   

Scaena secunda.  Enter Rowland, and Livia. Row. 
Now Livia, if you'll go away tonight,  
If your affections be not made of words.  Liv. 
I love you, and you know how dearly Rowland,  
Is there none near us? my affections ever  
Have been your servants; with what superstition  
I have ever Sainted you—  Row. 
Why then take this way.  Liv. 
'twill be a childish and a less prosperous course,  
Than his that knows not care: why should we do  
Our honest and our hearty love such wrong,  
To overrun our fortunes?  Row. 
Then you flatter.  Liv. 
Alas you know I cannot.  Row. 
What hopes left else  
But flying to enjoy ye?  Liv. 
None so far,  
For let it be admitted we have time,  
And all things now in other expectation,  
My father's bent against us; what but ruin,  
Can such a by-way bring us? if your fears  
Would let you look with my eyes, I would show you,  
And certain, how our staying here would win us  
A course, though somewhat longer, yet far surer.  Row. 
And than Moroso h'as ye.  Liv. 
No such matter:  
For hold this certain, begging, stealing, whoring,  
Selling, (which is a sin unpardonable)  
Of counterfeit Cods, or musty English Cracas,  
Switches, or stones for th'toothache sooner finds me,  
Then that drawn Fox and Moroso.  Row. 
But his money,  
If wealth may win you—  Liv. 
If a Hog may be  
High Priest among the jews: his money Rowland?  
Oh Love forgive me, what faith hast thou?  
Why, can his money kiss me?  Row. 
Yes.  Liv. 
Behind,  
Laid out upon a Petticoat: or grasp me  
While I cry, O good thank you? o' my troth  
Thou mak'st me merry with thy fear: or lie with me,  
As you may do? alas, what fools you men are?  
His mouldy money? half a dozen Riders,  
That cannot sit but stamped fast to their Saddles?  
No Rowland, no man shall make use of me;  
My beauty was born free, and free I'll give it  
To him that loves, not buys me. You yet doubt me.  Row. 
I cannot say I doubt ye.  Liv. 
Go thy ways,  
Thou art the prettiest puling piece of passion:  
i'faith I will not fail thee.  Row. 
I had rather—  Liv. 
Prithee believe me, if I do not carry it,  
For both our goods—  Row. 
But—  Liv. 
What but?  Row. 
I would tell you.  Liv. 
I know all you can tell me; all's but this,  
You would have me, and lie with me; is't not so?  Row. 
Yes.  Liv. 
Why you shall; will that content you? Go.  Row. 
I am very loath to go. Enter Byancha, and Maria.  Liv. 
Now o' my conscience  
Thou art an honest fellow: here's my sister;  
Go, prithee go; this kiss, and credit me,  
Ere I am three nights older, I am for thee:  
You shall hear what I do.  
Farewell.  Row. 
Farewell. Exit Rowland.  Liv. 
Alas poor fool, how it looks?  
It would e'en hang itself, should I but cross it.  
For pure love to the matter I must hatch it.  Bya. 
Nay never look for merry hour Maria,  
If now you make it not; let not your blushes,  
Your modesty, and tenderness of spirit,  
Make you continual Anvil to his anger:  
Believe me, since his first wife set him going,  
Nothing can bind his rage: Take your own Council,  
You shall not say that I persuaded you.  
But if you suffer him—  Mar. 
Stay, shall I do it?  Bya. 
Have you a stomach to't?  Mar. 
I never showed it.  Bya. 
'twill show the rarer, and the stronger in you.  
But do not say I urged you.  Mar. 
I am perfect,  
Like Curtius to redeem my Country, have I  
leapt into this gulf of marriage, and I'll do it.  
Farewell all poorer thoughts, but spite & anger,  
Till I have wrought a miracle. Now x,  
I am no more the gentle tame Maria;  
Mistake me not; I have a new soul in me  
Made of a Northwind, nothing but tempest;  
And like a tempest shall it make all ruins,  
Till I have run my will out.  Bya. 
This is brave now,  
If you continue it; but your own will lead you.  Mar. 
Adieu all tenderness, I dare continue;  
Maids that are made of fears and modest blushes,  
View me, and love example.  Bya. 
Here is your sister.  Mar. 
Here is the brave old man's love.  Bya. 
That loves the young man.  Mar. 
I and hold thee there wench: what a grief of heart is't,  
When Paphos' Rebels should up rouse old night,  
To sweat against a Cork; to lie and tell  
The clock o'th' longs, to rise sport-starved?  Liv. 
Dear sister,  
Where have you been you talk thus?  Mar. 
Why at Church, wench;  
Where I am tide to talk thus: I am a wife now.  Liv. 
It seems so, and a modest.  Mar. 
You are an ass;  
When thou art married once, thy modesty  
Will never buy thee Pins.  Liv. 
'Bless me.  Mar. 
From what?  Bya. 
From such a tame fool as our cousin Livia?  Liv. 
You are not mad.  Mar. 
Yes wench, and so must you be,  
Or none of our acquaintance, mark me Livia.  
Or indeed sit for our sex: 'tis bed time.  
Pardon me yellow Hymen, that I mean  
Thine offerings to protract, or to keep fasting  
My valiant Bridegroom.  Liv. 
Whether will this woman?  Bya. 
You may perceive her end.  Liv. 
Or rather fear it.  Mar. 
Dare you be partner in't?  Liv. 
Leave it Maria,  
I fear I have marked too much, for goodness leave it;  
divest you with obedient hands to bed.  Mar. 
To bed? No Livia, there are Comets hang  
Prodigious over that yet; there's a fellow  
Must yet before I know that heat (never start wench)  
Be male a man, for yet he is a monster;  
Here must his head be Livia.  Liv 
Never hope it.  
'tis as easy with a Sieve to scoop the Ocean, as  
To tame Petruchio.  Mar. 
Stay: Lucina hear me,  
Never unlock the treasure of my womb  
For humane fruit, to make it capable;  
Nor never with thy secret hand make brief  
A mother's labour to me; if I do  
Give way unto my married husbands will,  
Or be a wife, in any thing but hopes,  
Till I have made him easy as a child,  
And tame as fear, he shall not win a smile,  
Or a pleased look, from this austerity,  
Though it would pull another Jointure from him,  
And make him every day another man;  
And when I kiss him, till I have my will,  
May I be barren of delights, and know  
Only what pleasures are in dreams, and guesses.  Liv. 
A strange Exordium.  Bya. 
All the several wrongs  
Done by imperious husbands to their wives  
These thousand years and upwards, strengthen thee:  
Thou hast a brave cause.  Mar. 
And I'll do it bravely  
Or may I knit my life out ever after.  Liv. 
In what part of the world got she this spirit?  
Yet pray Maria, look before you truly,  
Besides the obedience of a wife,  
Which you will find a heavy imputation,  
Which yet I cannot think your own, it shows  
So distant from your sweetness.  Mar. 
'tis I swear.  Liv. 
Weigh but the person, and the hopes you have,  
To work this desperate cure.  Mar. 
A weaker subject  
Would shame the end I aim at, disobedience.  
You talk too tamely: By the faith I have  
In mine own Noble will, that childish woman  
That lives a prisoner to her husband's pleasure,  
Has lost her making, and becomes a beast,  
Created for his use, not fellowship.  Liv. 
His first wife said as much.  Mar. 
She was a fool,  
And took a scurvy course; let her be named  
'Mongst those that wish for things, but dare not do 'em:  
I have a new dance for him.  Liv. 
Are you of this faith?  Bya. 
Yes truly, and will die in't.  Liv. 
Why then let's all wear breeches.  Mar. 
Now thou com'st near the nature of a woman;  
Hang these tame hearted Eyasses, that no sooner  
See the Lure out, and hear their husbands halla,  
But cry like Kites upon 'em: The free Haggard  
(Which is that woman, that hath wing, and knows it,  
Spirit, and plume) will make an hundred checks,  
To show her freedom, sail in every air,  
And look out every pleasure; not regarding  
Lure, nor quarry, till her pitch command  
What she desires, making her foundered keeper  
Be glad to fling out trains, and golden ones,  
To take her down again.  Liv. 
You are learned sister;  
Yet I say still take heed.  Mar. 
A witty saying;  
I'll tell thee Livia, had this fellow tired  
As many wives as horses under him,  
With spurring of their patience; had he got  
A Patent, with an Office to reclaim us  
Confirmed by Parliament; had he all the malice  
And subtlety of Devils, or of us,  
Or any thing that's worse than both.  Liv. 
hay, heigh boys, this is excellent.  Mar. 
Or could he  
Cast his wives new again, like Bells to make 'em  
Sound to his will; or had the fearful name  
Of the first breaker of wild women: yet,  
Yet would I undertake this man, thus single,  
And spite of all the freedom he has reached to,  
Turn him and bend him as I list, and mould him  
Into a babe again; that aged women,  
Wanting both teeth & spleen, may Master him.  Bya. 
Thou wilt be chronicled.  Mar. 
That's all I aim at.  Liv 
I must confess, I do with all my heart  
Hate an imperious husband, and in time  
Might be so wrought upon.  Bya. 
To make him cuckold?  Mar. 
If he deserve it.  Liv. 
Then I'll leave ye Ladies.  Bya. 
Thou hast not so much Noble anger in thee.  Mar. 
Go sleep, go sleep, what we intend to do,  
Lies not for such starved souls as thou hast Livia.  Liv. 
Good night: the Bridegroom will be with you presently.  Mar. 
That's more than you know.  Liv. 
If ye work upon him,  
As you have promised, ye may give example,  
Which no doubt will be followed.  Mar. 
So.  By. 
Good night: we'll trouble you no further.  Mar. 
If you intend no good, pray do no harm.  Liv. 
None, but pray for you. Exit Livia.  Bya. 
'Cheer wench?  Mar. 
Now Byancha,  
Those wits we have let's wind 'em to the height,  
My rest is up wench, and I pull for that  
Will make me ever famous. They that lay  
Foundations, are half bvilders all men say.  Enter Jaques. Jaq. 
My Master forsooth.  Mar. 
Oh how does thy Master? prithee commend me to him.  Jaq. 
How's this? my Master stays forsooth.  Mar. 
Why let him stay, who hinders him forsooth?  Jaq. 
The Revel's ended now,  
To visit you.  Mar. 
I am not sick.  Jaq. 
I mean to see his chamber, forsooth.  Mar. 
Am I his Groom? where lay he last night, forsooth?  Jaq. 
In the low matted Parlour.  Mar. 
There lies his way by the long Gallery.  Jaq. 
I mean your chamber: you're very merry Mistress.  Mar. 
'tis a good sign I am sound hearted Jaques:  
But if you'll know where I lie, follow me;  
And what thou seest, deliver to thy Master.  Bja. 
Do gentle Jaques. Exeunt.  Ja. 
Ha, is the wind in that door?  
By'r Lady we shall have foul weather then:  
I do not like the shuffling of these women,  
They are mad beasts when they knock their heads together:  
I have observed them all this day; their whispers,  
One in another's ear, their signs, and pinches,  
And breaking often into violent laughters:  
As if the end they purposed were their own.  
Call you this weddings? Sure this is a knavery,  
A very trick, and dainty knavery,  
Marvellous finely carried, that's the comfort:  
What would these women do in ways of honour,  
That are such Masters this way. Well, my Sir  
Has been as good at finding out these toys,  
As any living; if he lose it now,  
At his own peril be it. I must follow. Exit.   

Scena tertia.  Enter Servants with lights, Petruchio, Petronius, Moroso, Tranio, and Sophocles. Petru. 
You that are married, Gentlemen, home at ye  
For a round wager now.  Soph. 
Of this night's Stage?  Petru. 
Yes.  Soph. 
I am your first man: a pair of Gloves of twenty shillings.  Petru. 
Done: who takes me up next? I am for all bets.  Mor. 
Well lusty Laurence, were but my night now,  
Old as I am, I would make you clap on Spurs,  
But I would reach you, and bring you to your trot too:  
I would Gallants.  Petru. 
Well said good Will; but where's the staff boy, ha?  
Old father time, your hourglass is empty.  Tra. 
A good tough train would break thee all to pieces;  
Thou hast not breath enough to say thy prayers.  Petron. 
Set how these boys despise us. Will you to bed son?  
This pride will have a fall.  Petru. 
Upon your daughter;  
But I shall rise again, if there be truth  
In Eggs, and buttered Parsnips.  Petro. 
will you to bed son, & leave talking;  
Tomorrow morning we shall have you look,  
For all your great words, like St. George at Kingston,  
Running a footback from the furious Dragon,  
That with her angry tail belabours him  
For being lazy.  Tra. 
His courage quenched, and so far quenched—  Petru. 
'tis well sir.  
What then?  Saph. 
Fly, fly, quoth then the fearful dwarf;  
Here is no place for living man.  Petru. 
Well my masters, if I do sink under my business, as I find 'tis very possible, I am not the first that has miscarried; So that's my comfort, what may be done without impeach or waste, I can and will do.  Enter Jaques. 
How now is my fair Bride a-bed?  Jaq. 
No truly sir.  Petron. 
Not a-bed yet? body o' me: we'll up and rifle her: here's a coil with a maidenhead, 'tis not entailed, is it?  Petru. 
If it be, I'll try all the Law i'th' Land, but I'll cut it off: let's up, let's up, come.  Jaq. 
That you cannot neither.  Petru. 
Why?  Jaq. 
Unless you'll drop through the Chimney like a Daw, or force a breach i'th' windows: you may untile the house, 'tis possible.  Petru. 
What dost thou mean?  Jaq. 
A moral sir, the Ballad will express it:  
The wind and the rain has turned you back again,  
And you cannot be lodged there. The truth is all the doors  
Are barricaded; not a Cathole, but holds a murderer in't.  
She's victualled for this month.  Petru. 
Art not thou drunk?  Soph. 
He's drunk, he's drunk; come, come, let's up.  Jaq. 
Yes, yes, I am drunk: ye may go up, ye may Gentlemen, but take heed to your heads: I say no more.  Soph. 
I'll try that. Exit Soph.  Petron. 
How dost thou say? the door fast locked fellow?  Jaq. 
Yes truly sir, 'tis locked, and guarded too; and two as desperate tongues planted behind it, as ere yet battered: they stand upon their honours, and will not give up without strange composition, I'll assure you; marching away with their Pieces cocked, and Bullets in their mouths will not satisfy them.  Petru. 
How's this? how's this they are?  
Is there another with her?  Jaq. 
Yes marry is there, and an Engineer.  Mor. 
Who's that for heaven's sake?  Jaq. 
Colonel Byancha, she commands the works: Spinala's but a ditcher to her, there's a half-moon; I am but a poor man, but if you'll give me leave, I'll venture a years' wages, draw all your force before it, and mount your ablest piece of battery, you shall not enter it these three nights yet.  Enter Sophocles. Petru. 
I should laugh at that good Jaques.  Soph. 
Beat back again, she's fortified for ever.  Jaq. 
Am I drunk now sir?  Soph. 
He that dares most, go up now, and be cooled.  
I have scaped a pretty scouring.  Petru. 
What are they mad? have we another Bedlam? They do not talk I hope?  Soph. 
Oh terribly, extremely fearful, the noise at London-bridge is nothing near her.  Petru. 
How got she tongue?  Soph. 
As you got tail, she was born to't.  Petru. 
Locked out a doors, and on my wedding-night?  
Nay, and I suffer this, I may go graze:  
Come Gentlemen, I'll batter; are these virtues?  Soph. 
Do, and be beaten off with shame, as I was: I went up, came to th' door, knocked, nobody answered; knocked louder, yet heard nothing: would have broke in by force; when suddenly a waterwork flew from the window with such violence, that had I not ducked quickly like a friar, caetera quis nescit? The chamber's nothing but a mere Ostend, in every window Pewter cannons mounted, you'll quickly find with what they are charged, sir.  Petru. 
Why then tantara for us.  Soph. 
And all the lower works lined sure with small shot, long tongues with Firelocks, that at twelve score blank hit to the heart: now and ye dare go up  Enter Maria and Byanca above. Mor. 
The window opens, beat a parley first;  
I am so much amazed my very hair stands.  Petron. 
Why how now daughter: what intrenced?  Mar. 
A little guarded for my safety sir.  Petru. 
For your safety Sweetheart why who offends you?  
I come not to use violence.  Mar. 
I think you cannot sir, I am better fortified.  Petru. 
I know your end,  
You would fain reprieve your Maidenhead  
A night, or two.  Mar. 
Yes, or ten, or twenty, or say an hundred;  
Or indeed, till I list lie with you.  Soph. 
That's a shrewd saying; from this present hour,  
I never will believe a silent woman.  
When they break out they are bonfires.  Petro. 
Till you list lie with him? why who are you Madam?  Bya. 
That trim Gentleman's wife, sir.  Petru. 
Cry you mercy, do you command too?  Mar. 
Yes marry does she, and in chief.  Bya. 
I do command, and you shall go without:  
(I mean your wife, for this night)  Mar. 
And for the next too wench, and so as't follows.  Petro. 
Thou wilt not, wilt 'a?  Mar. 
Yes indeed dear father,  
And till he seal to what I shall set down,  
For any thing I know, for ever.  Soph. 
Indeed these are Bugs-words.  Tra. 
You hear sir, she can talk, God be thanked.  Petru. 
I would I heard it not sir.  Soph. 
I find that all the pity bestowed upon this woman,  
Makes but an Anagram of an ill wife,  
For she was never virtuous.  Petru. 
You'll let me in I hope, for all this jesting.  Mar. 
Hope still Sir.  Petron. 
You will come down I am sure.  Mar. 
I am sure I will not.  Petron. 
I'll fetch you then.  Bya. 
The power of the whole County cannot sir,  
Unless we please to yield, which yet I think  
We shall not; charge when you please, you shall  
Hear quickly from us.  Mar. 
Bless me from a Chicken of thy hatching,  
Is this wiving?  Petru. 
Prithee Maria tell me what's the reason,  
And do it freely, you deal thus strangely with me?  
You were not forced to marry, your consent  
Went equally with mine, if not before it:  
I hope you do not doubt I want that mettle  
A man should have to keep a woman waking;  
I would be sorry to be such a Saint yet:  
My person, as it is not excellent,  
So 'tis not old, nor lame, nor weak with Physic,  
But well enough to please an honest woman,  
That keeps her house, and loves her husband.  Mar. 
'tis so.  Petru. 
My means and my conditions are no shamers  
Of him that owes 'em, all the world knows that,  
And my friends no reliers on my fortunes.  Mar. 
All this I believe, and none of all these parcels  
I dare except against; nay more, so far  
I am from making these the ends I aim at,  
These idle outward things, these women's fears,  
That were I yet unmarried, free to choose  
Through all the Tribes of man, I'd take Petruchio  
In's shirt, with one ten Groats to pay the Priest,  
Before the best man living, or the ablest  
That e'er leapt out of Lancashire, and they are right ones.  Petron. 
Why do you play the fool then, and stand prating  
Out of the window like a broken Miller!  Petru. 
If you will have me credit you Maria,  
Come down, and let your love confirm it.  Mar. 
Stay there sir, that bargain's yet to make.  Bya. 
Play sure wench, the packs in thine own hand.  Soph. 
Let me die lousy, if these two wenches  
Be not brewing knavery to stock a Kingdom.  Petru. 
Why this is a Riddle:  
I love you, and I love you not.  Mar. 
It is so:  
And till your own experience do untie it,  
This distance I must keep.  Petru. 
If you talk more,  
I am angry, very angry.  Mar. 
I am glad on't, and I will talk.  Petru. 
Prithee peace,  
Let me not think thou art mad. I tell thee woman,  
If thou goest forward, I am still Petruchio.  Mar. 
And I am worse, a woman that can fear  
Neither Petruchio Furius, nor his fame,  
Nor any thing that tends to our allegiance;  
There's a short method for you, now you know me.  Petru. 
If you can carry't so, 'tis very well.  Bya. 
No you shall carry it, sir.  Petru. 
Peace gentle Low-bel.  Petron. 
Use no more words, but come down instantly,  
I charge thee by the duty of a child.  Petru. 
Prithee come Maria, I forgive all.  Mar. 
Stay there; That duty, that you charge me by  
(If you consider truly what you say)  
Is now another man's, you gave't away  
I'th' Church, if you remember, to my husband:  
So all you can exact now, is no more  
But only a due reverence to your person,  
Which thus I pay: Your blessing, and I am gone  
To bed for this night.  Petron. 
This is monstrous:  
That blessing that St. Dunstan gave the Devil,  
If I were near thee, I would give thee—  
Pull thee down by th' nose.  Bya. 
Saints should not rave, sir;  
A little Rhubarb now were excellent.  Petru. 
Then by that duty you owe to me Maria,  
Open the door, and be obedient: I am quiet yet.  Mar. 
I do confess that duty; make your best on't.  Petru. 
Why give me leave, I will.  Bya. 
Sir, there's no learning  
An old stiff Jade to trot: you know the moral.  Mar. 
Yet as I take it sir, I owe no more  
Than you owe back again.  Petru. 
You will not Article?  
All I owe, presently, let me but up, I'll pay.  Mar. 
You're too hot, and such prove Jades at length;  
You do confess a duty or respect to me from you again:  
That's very near, or full the same with mine?  Petru. 
Yes.  Mar. 
Then by that duty, of respect, or what  
You please to have it, go to bed and leave me,  
And trouble me no longer with your fooling;  
For know, I am not for you.  Petru. 
Well, what remedy?  Petron. 
A fine smart Cudgel. Oh that I were near thee.  Bya. 
If you had teeth now, what a case were we in?  Mor. 
These are the most authentic Rebels, next Tyrone, I ever read of.  Mar. 
A week hence, or a fortnight, as you bear you,  
And as I find my will observed, I may  
With intercession of some friends be brought  
May be to kiss you; and so quarterly  
To pay a little rent by composition,  
You understand me?  Soph. 
Thou Boy, thou.  Petru. 
Well there are more Maids than Maudlin, that's my comfort.  Mar. 
Yes, and more men than Michael.  Petru. 
I must not to bed with this stomach, and no meat Lady.  Mar. 
Feed where you will, so it be sound, and wholesome,  
Else live at livery, for I'll none with you.  By. 
You had best back one of the dairy maids, they'll carry.  
But take heed to your girths, you'll get a bruise else.  Petru. 
Now if thou wouldst come down, and tender me:  
All the delights due to a marriage bed,  
Study such kisses as would melt a man,  
And turn thyself into a thousand figures,  
To add new flames unto me, I would stand  
Thus heavy, thus regardless, thus despising  
Thee, and thy best allurings: all thy beauty  
That's laid upon your bodies, mark me well,  
For without doubt your mind's are miserable,  
You have no masks for them: all this rare beauty,  
Lay but the Painter, and the silk worm by,  
The Doctor with his diets, and the tailor,  
And you appear like flayed Cats, not so handsome.  Mar. 
And we appear like her that sent us hither,  
That only excellent and beauteous nature;  
Truly ourselves, for men to wonder at,  
But too divine to handle; we are Gold,  
In our own natures pure; but, when we suffer  
The husband's stamp upon us then alleys,  
And bas ones of you, men are mingled with us,  
And make us blush like Copper.  Petru. 
Then, and never  
Till then are women to be spoken of,  
For till that time you have no souls I take it:  
Good night: come Gentlemen; I'll fast for this night,  
But by this hand— well: I shall come up yet?  Mar. 
Noah.  Petru. 
There will I watch thee like a withered Jewry,  
Thou shalt neither have meat, fire, nor Candle,  
Nor any thing that's easy: do you rebel so soon?  
Yet take mercy.  By. 
Put up your Pipes; to bed sir; I'll assure you  
A month's siege will not shake us.  Moro. 
Well said Colonel.  Mar. 
To bed to bed Petruchio: good night Gentlemen,  
You'll make my Father sick with sitting up:  
Here you shall find us any time these ten days,  
Unless we may march off with our contentment.  Petru. 
I'll hang first.  Mar. 
And I'll quarter if I do not,  
I'll make you know, and fear a wife Petruchio,  
There my cause lies.  
You have been famous for a woman tamer,  
And bear the feared-name of a brave wife-breaker:  
A woman now shall take those honours off,  
And tame you; nay, never look so big, she shall believe me,  
And I am she: what think ye; good night to all,  
Ye shall find Centines.  By. 
If ye dare sally. Exeunt above.  Petro. 
The devil's in 'em, e'en the very devil, the down right devil.  Petru. 
I'll devil 'em: by these ten bones I will: I'll bring it to the old Proverb no sport no pie:— taken down i'th' top of all my speed; this is fine dancing: Gentlemen, stick to me. You see our Freehold's touched, and by this light, we will beleaguer' em, and either starve 'em out, or make 'em recreant.  Petro. 
I'll see all passages stopped, but those about 'em:  
If the good women of the Town dare succour 'em,  
We shall have wars indeed.  Soph. 
I'll stand perdue upon 'em.  Mor. 
My regiment shall lie before.  Iaq. 
I think so, 'tis grown too old to stand.  Petru. 
Let's in, and each provide his tackle,  
We'll fire'em out, or make'em take their pardons,  
Hear what I say, on their bare knees—  
Am I Petruchio, feared, and spoken of,  
And on my wedding night am I thus jaded? Exe. Omnes.   

Scaena quarta.  Enter Rowland, and Pedro, at several doors. Row. 
Now Pedro?  Ped. 
Very busy Master Rowland.  Row. 
What haste man?  Ped. 
I beseech you pardon me,  
I am not mine own man.  Row. 
Thou art not mad?  Ped. 
No; but believe me, as hasty—  Row. 
The cause good Pedro?  Ped. 
There be a thousand sir; you are not married?  Row. 
Not yet.  Ped. 
Keep yourself quiet then.  Row. 
Why?  Ped. 
You'll find a Fiddle  
That never will be tuned else: from all women— Exit. Enter jaques,  Row. 
What ails the fellow trow? jaques?  Iaq. 
Your friend sir.  
But very full of business.  Row. 
Nothing but business?  
Prithee the reason, is there any dying?  Jaq. 
I would there were sir.  Row. 
But thy business?  Iaq. 
I'll tell you in a word,  
I am sent to lay  
An imposition upon souse and Puddings,  
Pasties, and Penny Custards, that the women  
May not relieve you Rebels: Fare ye well sir.  Row. 
How does my Mistress?  Iaq. 
Like a resty jade.  
She's spoiled for riding. Exit jaques.  Row. 
What a devil ail they? Enter Sophocles.  
Custards, and penny Pasties, Fools and Fiddles,  
What's this toth' purpose? O well met.  Soph. 
Now Rowland.  
I cannot stay to talk long.  Row. 
What's the matter?  
Here's stirring, but to what end? whether go you?  Soph. 
To view the works.  Row. 
What works?  Soph. 
The women's Trenches.  Row. 
Trenches? are such to see?  Soph. 
I do not jest sir.  Row. 
I cannot understand you.  Soph. 
Do not you hear  
In what a state of quarrel the new Bride  
Stands with her husband?  Row. 
Let him stand with her, and there's an end.  Soph. 
It should be, but by'r Lady  
She holds him out at Pikes end, and defies him,  
And now is fortified; such a Regiment of Rutters  
Never defied men braver: I am sent  
To view their preparation.  Row. 
This is news  
Stranger than Arms in the air, you saw not  
My gentle Mistress?  Soph. 
Yes, and meditating  
Upon some secret business, when she had found it  
She leapt for joy, and laughed, and straight retired  
To shun Moroso.  Row. 
This may be for me.  Soph. 
Will you along?  Row. 
No.  Soph. 
Farewell. Exit Sophocles.  Row. 
Farewell sir.  
What should her musing mean, and what her joy in't,  
If not for my advantage? stay ye; may not Enter Livia at one door, and Moroso at another harkening.  
That Bobtail Jade Moroso, with his Gold,  
His gew-gauds, and the hope she has to send him  
Quickly to dust, excite this? here she comes,  
And yonder walks the Stallion to discover:  
Yet I'll salute her: save you beauteous mistress.  Livi. 
The Fox is kenneled for me: save you sir.  Row. 
Why do you look so strange?  Liv. 
I use to look sir  
Without examination.  Moro. 
Twenty Spur-Royals for that word.  Row. 
Belike then  
The object discontents you?  Liv. 
Yes it does.  Row. 
Is't come to this? you know me, do you not?  Liv. 
Yes as I may know many by repentance.  Row. 
Why do you break your faith?  Liv. 
I'll tell you that too,  
You are under age, and no band holds upon you.  Moro. 
Excellent wench.  Liv. 
Sue out your understanding,  
And get more hair, to cover your bare knuckle  
(For Boys were made for nothing, but dry kisses,)  
And if you can, more manners.  Moro. 
Better still.  Liv. 
And then if I want Spanish gloves, or stockings,  
A ten-pound waistcoat, or a Nag to hunt on,  
It may be I shall grace you to accept 'em.  Row. 
Farewell, and when I credit women more,  
May I to Smithfield, and there buy a Jade,  
(And know him to be so) that breaks my neck.  Liv. 
Because I have known you, I'll be thus kind to you;  
Farewell, and be a man, and I'll provide you,  
Because I see you're desperate, some staid Chambermaid  
That may relieve your youth, with wholesome doctrine.  Mor. 
She's mine from all the world: ha wench?  Liv. 
Ha Chicken?— gives him a box o'th' ear and Ex.  Mor. 
How's this? I do not love these favours: save you.  Row. 
The devil take thee— wrings him byth' nose.  Mor. 
Oh!  Row. 
There's a love token for you: thank me now.  Mor. 
I'll think on some of ye, and if I live,  
My nose alone shall not be played withal. Exit.    

Actus secundus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Petronius, and Moroso. Petro. 
A Box o'th' ear do you say?  Mor. 
Yes sure a sound one,  
Beside my nose blown to my hand; if Cupid  
Shoot Arrows of that weight, I'll swear devoutly,  
Has sued his livery, and no more a Boy.  Petro. 
You gave her some ill language?  Mor. 
Not a word,  Petro. 
Or might be you wear fumbling?  Mor. 
Would I had sir.  
I had been aforehand then; but to be baffled,  
And have no feeling of the cause—  Petro. 
Be patient,  
I have a medicine clapped to her back will cure her.  Mor. 
No sure it must be afore sir.  Petro. 
O' my Conscience,  
When I got these two wenches (who till now  
ne'er showed their riding) I was drunk with Bastard,  
Whose nature is to form things like itself  
Heady, and monstrous: did she slight him too?  Mor. 
That's all my comfort: a mere Hobby-horse  
She made child Rowland: 'sfoot she would not know him,  
Not give him a free look, not reckon him  
Among her thoughts, which I held more than wonder,  
I having seen her within's three days kiss him  
With such an appetite as though she would eat him.  Petro. 
There is some trick in this: how did he take it?  Mor. 
Ready to cry; he ran away.  Petro. 
I fear her.  
And yet I tell you, ever to my anger,  
She is as tame as Innocency; it may be  
This blow was but a favour.  Mor. 
I'll be sworn  
'Twas well tied on then.  Petro. 
Go too, pray forget it,  
I have bespoke a Priest: and within's two hours  
I'll have ye married; will that please you?  Mor. 
Yes.  Petro. 
I'll see it done myself, and give the Lady  
Such a sound exhortation for this knavery  
I'll warrant you, shall make her smell this Month on't,  Mor. 
Nay good sir, be not violent.  Petro. 
Neither—  Mor. 
It may be  
Out of her earnest love, there grew a longing  
(As you know women have such toys) in kindness,  
To give me a box o'th' ear or so.  Petro. 
It may be.  Mor. 
I reckon for the best still: this night than  
I shall enjoy her.  Petro. 
You shall handsel her.  Mor. 
Old as I am, I'll give her one blow for't  
Shall make her groan this twelvemonth.  Petro. 
Where's your jointure?  Mor. 
I have a jointure for her.  Petro. 
Have your Council  
Perused it yet?  Mor. 
No Council, but the night, and your sweet daughter  
Shall ere peruse that Jointure.  Petro. 
Very well sir.  Moro. 
I'll no demurrers on't nor no rejoinders.  
The other's ready sealed.  Petro. 
Come then let's 'comfort  
My Son Petruchio, he's like little Children  
That lose their Babbles, crying ripe.  Mor. 
Pray tell me,  
Is this stern woman still upon the flaunt  
Of bold defiance?  Petro. 
Still, and still she shall be  
Till she be starved out: you shall see such justice,  
That women shall be glad after this tempest  
To tie their husband's shoes, and walk their horses;  
That were a merry world: do you hear the rumour,  
They say the women are in Insurrection,  
And mean to make a—  Petro. 
They'll sooner  
Draw upon walls as we do: Let 'em, let 'em,  
We'll ship 'em out in Cuck-stools, there they'll sail  
As brave Columbus did, till they discover  
The happy Islands of obedience.  
We stay too long, Come.  Mor. 
Now Saint George be with us. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Livia alone Liv. 
Now if I can but get in handsomely,  
Father I shall deceive you, and this night  
For all your private plotting, I'll no wedlock;  
I have shifted sail, and find my sister's safety  
A sure retirement; pray to heaven that Rowland  
Do not believe too far, what I said to him,  
For yon old Foxcase forced me, that's my fear.  
Stay, let me see, this quarter fierce Petruchio  
Keeps with his Myrmidons: I must be sudden,  
If he seize on me, I can look for nothing  
But martial Law; to this place have I scaped him;  
Above there. Enter Maria, and Byancha above.  Mar. 
Cheval'a.  Liv. 
A Friend.  By. 
Who are you?  Liv. 
Look out and know.  Mar. 
Alas poor wench who sent thee,  
What weak fool made thy tongue his Orator?  
I know you come to parley.  Liv. 
You're deceived,  
Urged by the goodness of your cause I come  
To do as you do.  Mar. 
You're too weak, too foolish,  
To cheat us with your smoothness: do not we know  
Thou hast been kept up tame?  Liv. 
Believe me.  Mar. 
No, prithee good Livia  
Utter thy Eloquence somewhere else.  By. 
Good x  
Put up your Pipes; we are not for your ,  
Alas we know who sent you.  Liv. 
O' my word—  By. 
Stay there; you must not think your word,  
Or by your Maidenhead, or such Sunday oaths  
Sworn after Even-Song, can inveigle us  
To lose our handfast: did their wisdoms think  
That sent you hither, we would be so foolish,  
To entertain our gentle Sister Sinon,  
And give her credit, while the wooden Jade  
Petruchio stole upon us: no good Sister,  
Go home, and tell the merry Greeks that sent you,  
Ilium shall burn, and I, as did Aeneas,  
will on my back, spite of the Myrmidons,  
Carry this warlike Lady, and through Seas  
Unknown, and unbelieved, seek out a Land,  
Where like a race of noble Amazons,  
We'll root ourselves and to our endless glory  
Live, and despise base men.  Liv. 
I'll second ye.  By. 
How long have you been thus?  Liv. 
That's all one x.  
I stand for freedom now.  By. 
Take heed of lying;  
For by this light, if we do credit you,  
And find you tripping, his infliction  
That killed the Prince of Orange, will be sport  
To what we purpose.  Liv. 
Let me feel the heaviest.  Mar. 
Swear by thy Sweetheart Rowland (for by your maidenhead,  
I fear 'twill be too late to swear) you mean  
Nothing but fair and safe, and honourable  
To us, and to yourself.  Liv. 
I swear.  By. 
Stay yet,  
Swear as you hate Moroso, that's the surest,  
And as you have a certain fear to find him  
Worse than a poor dried Jack, full of more Aches  
Than Autumn has; more knavery, and usury,  
And foolery, and brokery, than dogs-ditch:  
As you do constantly believe he's nothing  
But an old empty bag with a grey beard,  
And that beard such a Bobtail, that it looks  
Worse than a mare's tail eaten off with Fillies:  
As you acknowledge, that young handsome wench  
That lies by such a Bilbo blade, that bends  
With every pass he makes toth' hilts, most miserable,  
A dry nurse to his Coughs, a fewterer  
To such a nasty fellow, a robbed thing  
Of all delights youth looks for: and to end,  
One cast away on course beef, born to brush  
That everlasting Cassock that has worn  
As many Servants out, as the North-east passage  
Has consumed Sailors: if you swear this, and truly  
Without the reservation of a gown  
Or any meritorious Petticoat,  
'Tis like we shall believe you.  Liv. 
I do swear it.  Mar. 
Stay yet a little; came this wholesome motion  
(Deal truly Sister) from your own opinion,  
Or some suggestion of the Foe?  Liv. 
ne'er fear me,  
For by that little faith I have in husbands,  
And the great zeal I bear your cause, I come  
Full of that liberty, you stand for, Sister.  Mar. 
If we believe, and you prove recreant Livia,  
Think what a maim you give the noble Cause  
We now stand up for: Think what women shall  
An hundred year hence speak thee, when examples  
Are looked for, and so great ones, whose relations  
Spoke as we do th'em wench, shall make new customs.  By. 
If you be false, repent, go home, and pray,  
And to the serious women of the City  
Confess yourself; bring not a sin so heinous  
To load thy soul, to this place: mark me Livia,  
If thou be it double, and betrayest our honours,  
And we fail in our purpose: get thee where  
There is no women living, nor no hope  
There ever shall be.  Mar. 
If a Mother's daughter,  
That ever heard the name of stubborn husband  
Found thee, and know thy sin.  By. 
Nay, if old age,  
One that has worn away the name of woman,  
And no more left to know her by, but railing,  
No teeth, nor eyes nor legs, but wooden ones  
Come but i'th' windward of thee, for sure she'll smell thee  
Thou'lt be so rank, she'll ride thee like a nightmare,  
And say her Prayers backward to undo thee,  
She'll curse thy meat and drink, and when thou marriest,  
Clap a sound spell for ever on thy pleasures.  Mar. 
Children of five year old, like little Fairies  
Will pinch thee into motley, all that ever  
Shall live, and hear of thee, I mean all women;  
Will (like so many furies) shake their Keys,  
And toss their flaming distaffs o'er their heads,  
Crying Revenge: take heed, 'tis hideous:  
Oh 'tis a fearful office, if thou hadst  
(Though thou be'st perfect now) when thou cam'st, hither,  
A false Imagination, get thee gone,  
And as my learned cousin said repent,  
This place is sought by soundness.  Liv. 
So I seek it,  
Or let me be a most despised example.  Mar. 
I do believe thee, be thou worthy of it.  
You come not empty?  Liv. 
No, Here's Cakes, and cold meat,  
And tripe of proof: behold here's wine, and beer,  
Be sudden, I shall be surprised else.  Mar. 
Meet at the low Parlour door, there lies a close way:  
What fond obedience you have living in you,  
Or duty to a man, before you enter,  
Fling it away, 'twill but defile our Offerings.  By. 
Be wary as you come,  Liv. 
I warrant ye. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter three Maids. 1 Mai. 
How goes your business Girls?  2 
A foot, and fair.  3 
If fortune favour us: away to your strength  
The Country Forces are arrived, be gone.  
We are discovered else.  1 
Arm? and be valiant.  2 
Think of our cause.  3 
Our Justice.  1 
'Tis sufficient. Exeunt.   

Scaena quarta.  Enter Rowland and Tranio at several doors. Tra. 
Now Rowland?  Row. 
How do you?  Tra. 
How dost thou man,  
Thou look'st ill:  Row. 
Yes, pray can you tell me Tranio,  
Who knew the devil first?  Tra. 
A woman.  Row. 
Thou hast heard I am sure of Esculapius.  
So were they not well acquainted?  Tra. 
May be so,  
For they had certain Dialogues together.  Row. 
He sold her fruit, I take it?  Tra. 
Yes, and Cheese  
That choked all mankind after.  Row. 
Canst thou tell me  
Whether that woman ever had a faith  
After she had eaten?  Tra. 
That's a School question  Row. 
No  
'Tis no question, for believe me Tranio,  
That cold fruit after eating bread nought in her  
But windy promises, and colic vows  
That broke out both ways.  Row. 
Thou hast heard I am sure  
Of Esculapius, a far famed Surgeon,  
One that could set together quartered Traitors,  
And make 'em honest men.  Tra. 
How dost thou Rowland?  Row. 
Let him but take, (if he dare do a cure  
Shall get him fame indeed) a faithless woman,  
There will be credit for him, that will speak him,  
A broken woman Tranio, a base woman,  
And if he can cure such a rack of honour  
Let him come here, and practise.  Tra. 
Now for honour's sake  
Why what ail'st thou Rowland?  Row. 
I am ridden Tranio.  
And Spur-galled to the life of patience  
(Heaven keep my wits together) by a thing  
Our worst thoughts are too noble for, a woman.  Tra. 
Your Mistress has a little frowned it may be?  Row. 
She was my Mistress.  Tra. 
Is she not?  Row. 
No Tranio.  
She has done me such disgrace, so spitefully,  
So like a woman bent to my undoing,  
That henceforth a good horse shall be my Mistress,  
A good Sword, or a Book: and if you see her,  
Tell her I do beseech you, even for love's sake.—  Tra. 
I will Rowland.  Row. 
She may sooner  
Count the good I have thought her,  
Our old love and our friendship,  
Shed one true tear, mean one hour constantly,  
Be old, and honest, married, and a maid,  
Then make me see her more, or more believe her:  
And now I have met a Messenger, farewell sir. Exit.  Tra. 
Alas poor Rowland, I will do it for thee:  
This is that dog Moroso, but I hope  
To see him cold i'th' mouth first 'ere he enjoy her:  
I'll watch this young man, desperate thoughts may seize him,  
And if my purse, or council can, I'll ease him. Exit   

Scaena quinta.  Enter Petruchio, Petronius, Moroso, and Sophocles. Petru. 
For look you Gentlemen, say that I grant her  
Out of my free and liberal love, a pardon,  
Which you and all men else know she deserves not,  
(Teneatis amici) can all the world leave laughing?  Petro. 
I think not.  Petru. 
No by— they cannot;  
For pray consider, have you ever read,  
Or heard of, or can any man imagine.  
So stiff a Tomb boy, of so set a ma ice,  
And such a brazen resolution,  
As this young Crabtree? and then answer me,  
And mark but this too friends, without a cause,  
Not a foul word comes cross her, not a fear,  
She justly can take hold on, and do you think  
I must sleep out my anger, and endure it,  
Sow pillows to her ease, and lull her mischief?  
Give me a Spindle first: no, no my Masters,  
Were she as fair as Nell a Greece, and housewife,  
As good as the wife Sailor's wife, and young still,  
Never above fifteen; and these tricks to it,  
She should ride the wild Mare once a week, she should.  
(Believe me friends she should) I would tabor her,  
Till all the Legions that are crept into her,  
Flew out with fire i'th' tails.  Soph. 
methinks you err now,  
For to me seems, a little sufferance  
Were a far surer cure.  Petru. 
Yes, I can suffer,  
Where I see promises of peace and amendment.  Mor. 
Give her a few conditions.  Petru. 
I'll be hanged first.  Petron. 
Give her a crab-tree-cudgel.  Petru. 
So I will;  
And after it a flock-bed for her bones.  
And hard eggs, till they brace her like a Drum,  
She shall be pampered with—  
She shall not know a stool in ten months' Gentlemen.  Soph. 
This must not be. Enter Jaques.  Jaq 
Arm, arm, out with your weapons,  
For all the women in the Kingdom's on ye; Enter Pedro.  
They swarm like wasps, and nothing can destroy 'em,  
But stopping of their hive, and smothering of 'em.  Ped. 
Stand to your guard sir, all the devils extant  
Are broke upon us, like a cloud of thunder;  
There are more women, marching hitherward,  
In rescue of my Mistress, than ere turned tail  
At Sturbridge Fair; and I believe, as fiery.  Jaq. 
The forlorn-hope's led by a tanner's wife,  
I know her by her hide; a desperate woman:  
She flayed her husband in her youth, and made  
Reins of his hide to ride the Parish. Take 'em all together,  
They are a genealogy of Jennets, gotten  
And born thus, by the boisterous breath of husbands;  
They serve sure, and are swift to catch occasion,  
(I mean their foes, or husbands) by the forelocks,  
And there they hang like favours; cry they can,  
But more for Noble spite, than fear: and crying  
Like the old Giants that were foes to Heaven,  
They heave ye stool on stool, and fling main Potlids  
Like massy rocks, dart ladles, tossing Irons,  
And tongs like Thunderbolts, till overlaid,  
They fall beneath the weight; yet still aspiring  
At those imperious Godsheads, that would tame 'em.  
There's ne'er a one of these, the worst and weakest,  
(Choose where you will) but dare attempt the raising  
Against the sovereign peace of Puritans,  
A Maypole, and a Morris, maugre mainly  
Their zeal, and Dudgeon-daggers: and yet more,  
Dares plant a stand of battering Ale against 'em,  
And drink 'em out o'th' Parish  Saph. 
Lo you fierce Petruchio, this comes of your impatience.  Ped. 
There's one brought in the Bears against the Canons  
Of the Town, made it good, and fought 'em.  Jaq. 
Another, to her everlasting fame, erected  
Two Alehouses of ease: the quarter-sessions  
Running against her roundly; in which business  
Two of the disannullers lost their nightcaps:  
A third stood excommunicate by the cudgel.  
The constable, to her eternal glory,  
Drunk hard, and was converted, and she victor.  Ped. 
Then are they victualled with pies and puddings,  
(The trappings of good stomachs) noble Ale  
the true defender, sausages, and smoked ones,  
If need be, such as serve for Pikes; and Pork,  
(Better the jews never hated:) here and there  
A bottle of Metheglin, a stout Bricaine  
That will stand to 'em, what else they want, they war for.  Petru. 
Come to council,  Soph. 
Now you must grant conditions or the Kingdom  
Will have no other talk but this.  Petron. 
Away then, and let's advise the best.  Soph: 
Why do you tremble?  Mor. 
Have I lived thus long to be knocked o'th' head,  
With half a washing beetle? pray be wise sir.  Petru. 
Come, something I'll do; but what it is I know not.  Soph. 
To council then, and let's avoid their follies.  
Guard all the doors, or we shall not have a cloak left. Exe  Enter three maids, at several doors. 1. 
How goes the business, girls?  2. 
A foot, and fair.  3. 
If fortune favour us: away to your strength,  
The Country forces are arrived; be gone we are discovered else.  1. 
Arm, and be valiant.  2. 
Think of our cause.  3. 
Our justice.  1. 
'tis sufficient. Exeunt   

Scena tertia.  Enter Petronius, Petruchio, Moroso, Sophocles, and Tranio. Petro. 
I am indifferent, though I must confess,  
I had rather see her carted.  Tra. 
No more of that sir.  Soph. 
Are ye resolved to give her fair conditions?  
'twill be the safest way.  Petru. 
I am distracted,  
Would I had run my head into a halter  
When I first wooed her: if I offer peace,  
She'll urge her own conditions, that's the devil.  Soph. 
Why say she do?  Petru: 
Say, I am made an Ass, then;  
I know her aim: may I with reputation  
(Answer me this) with safety of mine honour,  
(After the mighty manage of my first wife,  
Which was indeed a fury to this Filly,  
After my twelve strong labours to reclaim her,  
Which would have made Don Hercules' horn mad,  
And hid him in his hide) suffer this Sicily,  
Ere she have warmed my sheets, ere grappled with me,  
This Pink, this painted Foist, this Cockle-boat,  
To hang her Fights out, and defy me friends,  
A well known man of war? if this be equal,  
And I may suffer, say, and I have done?  Petron. 
I do not think you may.  Tra. 
You'll make it worse sir.  Soph. 
Pray hear me good Petruchio: but e'en now,  
You were contented to give all conditions,  
To try how far she would carry: 'tis a folly,  
(And you will find it so) to clap the curb on,  
ere you be sure it proves a natural wildness,  
And not a forced. Give her conditions,  
For on my life this trick is put into her.  Petron. 
I should believe so too.  Soph. 
And not her own.  Tra. 
You'll find it so.  Soph. 
Then if she flounder with you,  
Clap spurs on, and in this you'll deal with temperance,  
Avoid the hurry of the world.  Tra. 
And loose Music above.  Mor. 
No honour on my life, sir.  Petru. 
I will do it.  Petron. 
It seems they are very merry. Enter Jaques.  Petru. 
Why God hold it.  Mor. 
Now Jaques?  Jaq. 
They are i'th' flaunt, sir.  Soph. 
Yes we hear 'em.  Jaq. 
They have got a stick of Fiddles, and they firk it  
In wondrous ways, the two grand Capitanos,  
(They brought the Auxiliary Regiments)  
Dance with their coats tucked up to their bare breeches,  
And bid them kiss 'em, that's the burden;  
They have got Metheglin, and audacious Ale,  
And talk like Tyrants.  Petron. 
How knowest thou?  Jaq. 
I peep't in Song!  
At a loose Lansket.  Tra. 
Hark.  Petron. 
A Song, pray silence. All the women above.  Mor. 
They look out.  Petru 
Good even Ladies.  Mar. 
Good you good even sir.  Petru. 
How have you slept tonight?  Mar. 
Exceeding well sir.  Petru. 
Did you not wish me with you?  Mar: 
No, believe me,  
I never thought upon you.  Cun. 
Is that he?  Bya. 
Yes.  Cun. 
Sir?  Soph. 
She has drunk hard, mark her hood.  Cun. 
You are—  Soph. 
Learnedly drunk, I'll hang else: let her utter.  Cun. 
And I must tell you, viva voce friend,  
A very foolish fellow.  Tra. 
There's an Ale figure.  Petru. 
I thank you Susan Brotes.  Cit. 
Forward sister.  Cun. 
You have espoused here a hearty woman,  
A comely, and courageous.  Petru. 
Well I have so.  Cun. 
And to the comfort of distressed damsels,  
Women outworn in wedlock, and such vessels,  
This woman has defied you.  Petru. 
It should seem so.  Cun. 
And why?  Petru. 
Yes, can you tell?  Cun. 
For thirteen causes.  Petru. 
Pray by your patience Mistress.  Cit. 
Forward sister.  Petru. 
Do you mean to treat of all these?  Cit. 
Who shall let her?  Petro. 
Do you hear, Velvet-hood, we come not now  
To hear your doctrine.  Cunt. 
For the first, I take it,  
It doth divide itself into seven branches.  Petru. 
Hark you good Maria,  
Have you got a Catechiser here?  Tra. 
Good zeal.  Soph. 
Good three piled predication, will you peace,  
And hear the cause we come for?  Cunt. 
Yes Bobtails  
We know the cause you come for, here's the cause,  
But never hope to carry her, never dream  
Or flatter your opinions with a thought  
Of base repentance in her.  Cit. 
Give me sack,  
By this, and next strong Ale.  Cun. 
Swear forward sister.  Cit. 
By all that's cordial, in this place we'll bury  
Our bones, fames, tongues, our triumphs; and than all  
That ever yet was chronicled of woman;  
But this brave wench, this excellent despiser,  
This bane of dull obedience, shall inherit  
His liberal will, and march off with conditions  
Noble, and worth herself.  Cun. 
She shall Tom Tilers,  
And brave ones too; My hood shall make a hearse-cloth,  
And I lie under it, like John o' Gaunt,  
Ere I go less, my Distaff stuck up by me,  
For the eternal Trophy of my conquests;  
And loud fame at my head, with two main Bottles,  
Shall fill to all the world the glorious fall  
Of old Don Gillian.  Cit. 
Yet a little further,  
We have taken Arms in rescue of this Lady;  
Most just and Noble: if ye beat us off  
Without conditions, and we recant,  
Use us as we deserve; and first degrade us  
Of all our ancient chambering: next that  
The Symbols of our secrecy, silk Stockings,  
Hew of our heels; our petticoats of Arms  
Tear of our bodies, and our Bodkins break  
Over our coward heads.  Cun. 
And ever after  
To make the tainture most notorious,  
At all our Crests, videlicet our Plackets.  
Let Laces hang, and we return again  
Into our former titles, Dairy maids.  Petru. 
No more wars: puissant Ladies, show conditions,  
And freely I accept 'em.  Mar. 
Call in Livia;  
She's in the treaty too. Enter Livia above.  Mor. 
How, Livia?  Mar. 
Hear you that sir?  
There's the conditions for ye, pray peruse 'em.  Petron. 
Yes, there she is: t'had been no right rebellion,  
Had she held off; what think you man?  Mor. 
Nay nothing.  
I have enough o'th' prospect: o'my conscience,  
The world's end, and the goodness of a woman  
Will come together.  Petron. 
Are you there sweet Lady?  Liv. 
Cry you mercy sir, I saw you not: your blessing.  Petron. 
Yes when I bless a jade, that stumbles with me. How are the Articles?  Liv. 
This is for you sir;  
And I shall think upon't.  Mor. 
You have used me finely.  Liv. 
There's no other use of thee now extant,  
But to be hung up; cassock, cap, and all,  
For some strange monster at Apothecaries.  Petron. 
I hear you whore.  Liv. 
It must be his then sir,  
For need will then compel me.  Cit. 
Blessing on thee.  Liv. 
He will undo me in mere pans of Coals  
To make him lusty.  Petron. 
There's no talking to ''em;  
How are they sir?  Petru. 
As I expected: Liberty and clothes, Reads.  
When, and in what way she will: continual moneys,  
Company, and all the house at her dispose;  
No tongue to say, why is this? or whether will it;  
New Coaches, and some buildings, she appoints here,  
Hangings, and hunting-horses: and for Plate  
And Jewels for her private use, I take it,  
Two thousand pound in present: then for Music,  
And women to read French;  Petron. 
This must not be.  Petru. 
And at the latter end a clause put in,  
That Livia shall by no man be importuned.  
This whole month yet, to marry.  Petron. 
This is monstrous.  Petru. 
This shall be done, I'll humour her awhile:  
If nothing but repentance, and undoing  
Can win her love, I'll make a shift for one.  Soph. 
When ye are once a-bed, all these conditions  
Lie under your own seal.  Mar. 
Do you like 'em?  Petru. 
Yes.  
And by that faith I gave you fore the Priest  
I'll ratify 'em.  Cun. 
Stay, what pledges?  Mar. 
No, I'll take that oath;  
But have a care you keep it.  Cit. 
'tis not now  
As when Andrea lived.  Cun. 
If you do juggle,  
Or alter but a Letter or these Articles  
We have set down, the selfsame persecution.  Mar. 
Mistrust him not.  Petru. 
By all my honesty—  Mar. 
Enough I yield.  Petron. 
What's this  
Inserted here?  Soph. 
That the two valiant women that command here  
Shall have a Supper made 'em, and a large one,  
And liberal entertainment without grudging,  
And pay for all their Soldiers.  Petru. 
That shall be too;  
And if a tun of Wine will serve to pay 'em,  
They shall have justice: I ordain ye all  
paymasters, Gentlemen.  Tra. 
Then we shall have sport boys.  Mar. 
We'll meet you in the Parlour.  Petru. 
ne'er look sad sir, for I will do it.  Soph. 
There's no danger in't.  Petru. 
For Livia's Article, you shall observe it,  
I have tIED myself.  Petron. 
I will.  Petru. 
Along then: now  
Either I break, or this stiff plant must bow. Exeunt.    

Actus tertius,  

Scaena prima.  Enter Tranio, and Rowland. Tra. 
Come, you shall take my counsel.  Row. 
I shall hang first.  
I'll no more love, that's certain, 'tis a bane,  
(Next that they poison Rats with) the most mortal:  
No, I thank Heaven, I have got my sleep again,  
And now begin to write sense; I can walk ye  
A long hour in my chamber like a man,  
And think of something that may better me;  
Some serious point of Learning, or my state;  
No more ay-mees, and miseries Tranio  
Come near my brain. I'll tell thee, had the devil  
But any essence in him of a man,  
And could be brought to love, and love a woman,  
'twould make his head ache worser than his horns do;  
And make him with a fire he never felt yet,  
Would make him dance. I tell thee there is nothing  
(It may be thy case Tranio, therefore hear me:)  
Under the Sun (reckon the mass of follies  
Crept into th'world with man) so desperate,  
So mad, so senseless, poor and base, so wretched,  
Roguy, and scurvy.  Tra. 
whether wilt thou Rowland?  Row. 
As 'tis to be in love.  Tra. 
And why for virtue's sake?  Row. 
And why for virtue's sake? dost thou not conceive me?  Tra. 
No by my troth.  Row. 
Pray then, and heartily  
For fear thou fall into 't: I'll tell thee why too,  
(For I have hope to save thee) when thou lovest,  
And first beginst to worship the gilt calf,  
Imprimis, thou hast lost thy gentry,  
And like a prentice flung away thy freedom.  
Forthwith thou art a slave.  Tra. 
That's a new Doctrine.  Row. 
Next thou art no more man.  Tra. 
What then?  Row. 
A frippery;  
Nothing but braided hair, and penny ribbon,  
Glove, garter, ring, rose, or at best a swabber,  
If thou canst love so near to keep thy making,  
Yet thou wilt lose thy language.  Tra. 
Why.  Row. 
O Tranio,  
Those things in love, ne'er talk as we do,  Tra. 
No?  Row. 
No without doubt, they sigh and shake the head,  
And sometimes whistle dolefully.  Tra. 
No tongue?  Row. 
Yes Tranio, but no truth in't, nor no reason,  
And when they cant (for 'tis a kind of canting)  
Ye shall hear, if you reach to understand 'em  
(Which you must be a fool first, or you cannot)  
Such gibberish; such believe me, I protest Sweet,  
And oh dear Heavens, in which such constellations  
Reign at the births of lovers, this is too well,  
And deign me Lady, deign me I beseech ye  
You poor unworthy lump, and then she licks him  Tra 
A— on't, this is nothing.  Row. 
Thun hast hit it:  
Then talks she ten times worse, and wries and wriggles,  
As though she had the itch (and so it may be.)  Tra. 
Why thou art grown a strange discoverer.  Row 
Of mine own follies Tranio.  Tra. 
Wilt thou Rowland,  
Certain ne'er love again?  Row. 
I think so, certain,  
And if I be not dead drunk, I shall keep it.  Fra. 
Tell me but this; what dost thou think of women?  Row 
Why as I think of fiddles, they delight me,  
Till their strings break.  Fra. 
What strings?  Row. 
Their modesties,  
faiths, vows and maidenheads, for they are like Kits  
They have but four strings to 'em.  Tra. 
What wilt thou  
Give me for ten pound now, when thou next lovest,  
And the same woman still?  Row. 
Give me the money;  
A hundred, and my Bond for't.  Tra. 
But pray hear me.  
I'll work all means I can to reconcile ye:  Row. 
Do, do, give me the money.  Tra. 
There.  Row. 
Work Tranio.  Tra. 
You shall go sometimes where she is.  Row. 
Yes straight.  
This is the first good I ere got by woman.  Tra. 
You would think it strange now, if another beauty  
As good as hers, say better.  Row. 
Well.  Tra. 
Conceive me,  
This is no point o'th' wager.  Row. 
That's all one.  Tra. 
Love you as much, or more, than she now hates you.  Row. 
'tis a good hearing, let 'em love: ten pound more,  
I never love that woman.  Tra. 
There it is;  
And so an hundred, if you lose.  Row. 
'tis done;  
Have you another to put in?  Tra. 
No, no sir.  Row. 
I am very sorry: now will I erect  
A new Game and go hate for th' bell, I am sure  
I am in excellent case to win.  Tra. 
I must have leave.  
To tell you, and tell truth too, what she is,  
And how she suffers for you.  Row. 
Ten pound more,  
I never believe you.  Tra. 
No sir, I am stinted.  Row. 
Well, take your best way then.  Tra. 
Let's walk, I am glad  
Your sullen fever's off.  Row. 
Shalt see me Tranio  
A monstrous merry man now: let's to the Wedding,  
And as we go, tell me the general hurry  
Of these mad wenches, and their works.  Tra. 
I will.  Row. 
And do thy worst.  Tra 
Something I'll do.  Row. 
Do Tranio. Exeunt.   

Scoena Secunda.  Enter Pedro, and Jaques. Ped. 
A pair of stocks bestride 'em, are they gone?  Jaq. 
Yes they are gone; and all the pans i'th' Town  
Beating before 'em: what strange admonitions  
They gave my Master, and how fearfully  
They threatened, if he broke 'em?  Ped. 
O' my conscience  
Has found his full match now.  Jaq. 
That I believe too.  Ped. 
How did she entertain him?  Iaq. 
She looked on him.  Ped. 
But scurvily.  Iaq. 
With no great affection  
That I saw: and I heard some say he kissed her,  
But 'twas upon a treaty, and some copies  
Say but her cheek.  Ped. 
jaques, what wouldst thou give  
For such a wife now?  Iaq. 
Full as many prayers  
As the most zealous Puritan conceives  
Out of the meditation of fat veal,  
Or birds of prey, crammed capons, against Players,  
And to as good a tune too, but against her:  
That heaven would bless me from her: mark it Pedro,  
If this house be not turned within this fortnight  
With the foundation upward, I'll be carted.  
My comfort is yet that those Amorities,  
That came to back her cause, those heathen whores had  
their hoods hallowed with sack.  Ped. 
How devilish drunk they were?  Jaq. 
And how they tumbled, Pedro, didst thou mark  
The Country Cavaliero?  Ped. 
Out upon her,  
How she turned down the Bagget?  Jaq. 
I that sunk her.  Ped. 
That drink was well put to her; what a sober salt  
When the chair fell, she fetched, with her heels upward?  Jaq. 
And what a piece of landscape she discovered?  Ped. 
Didst mark her, when her hood fell in the Posset?  Jaq. 
Yes, and there rid, like a Dutch hoy; the tumbril,  
When she had got her ballast.  Ped. 
That I saw too.  Jaq. 
How fain she would have drawn on Sophocles  
To come aboard, and how she simpered it—  Ped. 
I warrant her, she has been a worthy striker.  Iaq. 
I'th' heat of Summer there had been some hope on't.  Ped. 
Hang her.  Jaq. 
She offered him a Harry-groat, and belched out,  
Her stomach being blown with Ale, such Courtship,  
Upon my life has given him twenty stools since:  
Believe my calculation, these old women  
When they are tippled, and a little heated  
Are like new wheels, they'll roar you all the Town o'er  
Till they be greased.  Ped. 
The City Cinquepace  
Dame toss and Butter, had he Bob too?  Jaq. 
Yes,  
But she was sullen drunk, and given to filching,  
I see her offer at a Spoon; my master  
I do not like his look, I fear has fasted  
For all this preparation; let's steal by him. Exeunt.   

Scena tertia.  Enter Petruchio, and Sophocles. Soph. 
Not let you touch her all this night?  Petru. 
Not touch her.  Soph. 
Where was your courage?  Petru. 
Where was her obedience?  
Never poor man was shamed so; never Rascal  
That keeps a stud of whores was used so basely.  Soph. 
Pray you tell me one thing truly;  
Do you love her?  Petru. 
I would I did not, upon that condition  
I passed thee half my Land.  Soph. 
It may be then,  
Her modesty required a little violence?  
Some women love to struggle.  Petru. 
She had it,  
And so much that I sweat for't, so I did,  
But to no end: I washed an Aethiop;  
She swore my force might weary her, but win her  
I never could, nor should, till she consented;  
And I might take her body prisoner,  
But for her mind or appetite—  Soph. 
'tis strange;  
This woman is the first I ever read of,  
Refused a warranted occasion,  
And standing on so fair terms.  Petru. 
I shall quit her.  Soph, 
Used you no more art?  Petru. 
Yes, I swore to her,  
And by no little ones, if presently  
Without more disputation on the matter,  
She grew not nearer to me, and dispatched me  
Out of the pain I was, for I was nettled,  
And willingly, and eagerly, and sweetly,  
I would to her Chambermaid, and in her hearing  
Begin her such a hunts-up.  Soph. 
Then she started?  Petru. 
No more than I do now; many she answered  
If I were so disposed, she could not help it;  
But there was one called jaques, a poor Butler  
One that might well content a single woman.  Soph. 
And he should tilt her.  Petru. 
To that sense, and last  
She bade me yet these six nights look for nothing,  
Nor strive to purchase it, but fair good night,  
And so good morrow, and a kiss or two  
To close my stomach, for her vow had sealed it,  
And she would keep it constant.  Soph. 
Stay ye, stay ye,  
Was she thus when you wooed her?  Petru. 
Nothing Sophocles,  
More keenly eager, I was oft afraid  
She had been light, and easy, she would shower  
Her kisses so upon me.  Soph. 
Then I fear  
another spoke's i'th' wheel.  Petru. 
Now thou hast found me,  
There gnaws my devil, Sophocles, O patience  
Preserve me; that I make her not example  
By some unworthy way; as flaying her,  
Boiling, or making verjuce, drying her.  Soph. 
I hear her.  Petru 
Mark her then, and see the heir  
Of spite and prodigality, she has studied  
A way to beggar's both, and by this hand Maria at the door, and Servant and woman.  
She shall be if I live a Doxy.  Soph. 
Fie Sir.  Mar. 
I do not like that dressing, 'tis too poor,  
Let me have six gold laces, broad and massy.  
And betwixt every lace a rich embroidery,  
Line the gown through with plush, perfumed, and purfle  
All the sleeves down with pearl.  Petru. 
What think you Sophocles.  
In what point stands my state now?  Mar. 
For those hangings  
Let 'em be carried where I gave appointment,  
They are too base for my use, and bespeak  
New pieces of the civil wars of France,  
Let 'em be large and lively, and all silk work,  
The borders gold.  Soph. 
I marry sir, this cuts it.  Mar. 
That fourteen yards of satin give my woman,  
I do not like the colour, 'tis too civil:  
there's too much silk i'th' lace too; tell the Dutchman  
That brought the mares, he must with all speed send me  
another suit of horses, and by all means  
Ten calf of Hawks for th' River, I much care not  
What price they bear, so they be sound, and flying,  
For the next winter, I am for the Country;  
And mean to take my pleasure; where's the horse man?  Petru. 
She means to ride a great horse.  Soph. 
With a side saddle?  Petru. 
Yes, and she'll run atilt within this twelvemonth  Mar. 
Tomorrow I'll begin to learn, but pray sir  
Have a great care he be an easy doer,  
'twill spoil a Scholar else.  Soph. 
An easy doer,  
Did you hear that?  Petru. 
Yes, I shall meet her morals  
ere it be long I fear not.  Mar. 
O good morrow.  Soph. 
Good morrow Lady, how is't now.  Mar. 
Faith sickly,  
This house stands in an ill air.  Petru. 
Yet more charges?  Mar. 
Subject to rots, and rheums; out on't, 'tis nothing  
But a tilled fog.  Petru. 
What think of the Lodge then?  Mar. 
I like the seat, but 'tis too little, Sophocles  
Let me have thy opinion, thou hast judgement.  Petru. 
'tis very well.  Mar. 
What if I pluck it down,  
And built a square upon it, with two courts  
Still rising from the entrance?  Petru. 
And i'th' midst  
A College for young Scolds.  Mar. 
And to the Southward  
Take in a garden of some twenty acres,  
And cast it off the Italian fashion, hanging.  Petru. 
And you could cast yourself so too; pray Lady  
Will not this cost much money?  Mar. 
Some five thousand,  
Say six: I'll have it battled too.  Petru. 
And gilt; Maria,  
This is a fearful course you take pray think on't,  
You are a woman now, a wife, and his  
That must in honesty, and justice look for  
Some due obedience from you.  Mar. 
That bare word  
Shall cost you many a pound more, build upon't;  
Tell me of due obedience? what's a husband?  
What are we married for, to carry sumpters?  
Are we not one piece with you, and as worthy  
Our own intentions, as you yours?  Petru 
Pray hear me.  Mar. 
Take two small drops of water, equal weighed,  
Tell me which is the heaviest, and which ought  
First to descend in duty?  Petru. 
You mistake me;  
I urge not service from you, nor obedience  
In way of duty, but of love, and credit;  
All I expect is but a noble care  
Of what I have brought you, and of what I am,  
And what our name may be  Mar. 
That's in my making.  Petru. 
'tis true it is so.  Mar 
Yes it is Petruchio,  
For there was never man without our moulding,  
Without our stamp upon him, and our justice,  
Left any thing three ages after him  
Good, and his own.  Soph. 
Good Lady understand him.  Mar. 
I do too much, sweet Sophocles, he's one  
Of a most spiteful self condition,  
Never at peace with any thing but age,  
That has no teeth left to return his anger:  
A Bravery dwells in his blood yet, of abusing  
His first good wife; he's sooner fire than powder,  
And sooner mischief.  Petru. 
If I be so sudden  
Do not you fear me?  Mar. 
No nor yet care for you,  
And if it may be lawful, I defy you:  Petru. 
does this become you now?  Mar. 
It shall become me.  Petru. 
Thou disobedient, weak, vainglorious woman,  
Were I but half so wilful, as thou spightful,  
I should now drag thee to thy duty.  Mar. 
Drag me?  Petru. 
But I am friends again: take all your pleasure.  Mar. 
Now you perceive him Sophocles.  Petru. 
I love thee  
Above thy vanity, thou faithless creature.  Mar. 
Would I had been so happy when I married,  
But to have met an honest man like thee,  
For I am sure thou art good, I know thou art honest,  
A handsome hurtless man, a loving man,  
Though never a penny with him; and those eyes,  
That face, and that true heart; wear this for my sake,  
And when thou thinkst upon me pity me:  
I am cast away, Exit Mar.  Soph. 
Why how now man?  Petru. 
Pray leave me,  
And follow your advices.  Soph. 
The man's jealous:  Petru. 
I shall find a time ere it be long, to ask you  
One or two foolish questions.  Soph. 
I shall answer  
As well as I am able, when you call me:  
If she mean true, 'tis but a little killing,  
And if I do not venture its—  
Farewell sir. Exit Soph.  Petru. 
Pray farewell. Is there no keeping  
A wife to one man's use? no wintering  
These cattle without straying? 'tis hard dealing,  
Very hard dealing, Gentlemen, strange dealing:  
Now in the name of madness, what star reigned,  
What dog-star, bull, or bear-star, when I married  
This second wife, this whirlwind, that takes all  
Within her compass? was I not well warned,  
(I thought I had, and I believe I know it,)  
And beaten to repentance in the days  
Of my first doting? had I not wife enough  
To turn my love too? did I want vexation,  
Or any special care to kill my heart?  
Had I not every morning a rare breakfast,  
Mixed with a learned Lecture of ill language,  
Louder than Tom o' Lincoln; and at dinner,  
A diet of the same dish? was there evening  
That ere past over us, without thou knave,  
Or thou whore, for digestion? had I ever  
A pull at this same poor sport men run mad for,  
But like a cur I was fain to show my teeth first,  
And almost worry her? and did Heaven forgive me,  
And take this Serpent from me? and am I  
Keeping tame devils now again? my heart aches;  
Something I must do speedily: I'll die,  
If I can handsomely, for that's the way  
To make a Rascal of her; I am sick,  
And I'll go very near it, but I'll perish. Exit.   

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Livia, Byancha, Tranio, and Rowland. Liv. 
Then I must be content sir, with my fortune.  Row. 
And I with mine.  Liv. 
I did not think, a look,  
Or a poor word or two, could have displanted  
Such a fixed constancy, and for your end too.  Row. 
Come, come, I know your courses: there's no gewgaws,  
Your Rings, and Bracelets, and the Purse you gave me,  
The money's spent in entertaining you  
At Plays, and Cherry-gardens.  Liv. 
There's your Chain too.  
But if you'll give me leave, I'll wear the hair still;  
I would yet remember you.  Bya. 
Give him his love wench;  
The young man has employment for 't.  Tra. 
Fie Rowland.  Row. 
You cannot fie me out a hundred pound  
With this poor plot: yet, let me ne'er see day more,  
If something do not struggle strangely in me.  Bya. 
Young man, let me talk with you.  Row. 
Well young woman.  Bya. 
This was your Mistress once.  Row. 
Yes.  Bya. 
Are ye honest?  
I see you are young, and handsome.  Row. 
I am honest.  Bya. 
Why that's well said: and there's no doubt your judgement  
Is good enough, and strong enough to tell you  
Who are your foes, and friends: why did you leave her?  Row. 
She made a puppy of me.  Bya. 
Be that granted:  
She must do so sometimes, and oftentimes;  
Love were too serious else.  Row. 
A witty woman.  Bya. 
Had you loved me—  Row. 
I would I had.  Bya. 
And dearly;  
And I had loved you so: you may love worse sir,  
But that is not material.  Row. 
I shall lose.  Bya. 
Some time or other for variety  
I should have called you fool, or boy, or bid you  
Play with the Pages: but have loved you still,  
Out of all question, and extremely too;  
You are a man made to be loved:  Row. 
This woman  
Either abuses me, or loves me deadly.  Bya. 
I'll tell you one thing, if I were to choose  
A husband to mine own mind, I should think  
One of your mother's making would content me,  
For o' my conscience she makes good ones.  Row. 
Lady,  
I'll leave you to your commendations:  
I am in again, The devil take their tongues.  Bya. 
You shall not go.  Row. 
I will: yet thus far Livia,  
Your sorrow may induce me to forgive you,  
But never love again; if I stay longer,  
I have lost two hundred pound.  Liv. 
Good sir, but thus much—  Tra. 
Turn if thou be'st a man.  Liv. 
But one kiss of you;  
One parting kiss, and I am gone too.  Row. 
Come,  
I shall kiss fifty pound away at this clap:  
We'll have one more, and then farewell.  Liv. 
Farewell.  Bya. 
Well, go thy ways, thou bear'st a kind heart with thee.  Tra. 
H'as made a stand.  Bya. 
A noble, brave young fellow,  
Worthy a wench indeed.  Row. 
I will: I will not. Exit Rowland.  Tra. 
He's gone: but shot again; play you but your part,  
And I will keep my promise: forty Angels  
In fair gold Lady: wipe your eyes: he's yours  
If I have any wit.  Liv. 
I'll pay the forfeit.  Bya. 
Come then, let's see your sister, how she fares now,  
After her skirmish: and be sure, Moroso  
Be kept in good hand; then all's perfect, Livia.  Exeunt.  

Scena quinta.  Enter Jaques and Pedro. Ped. 
O Jaques, Jaques, what becomes of us?  
Oh my sweet Master.  Jaq. 
Run for a Physician,  
And a whole peck of Pothecaries, Pedro.  
He will die, diddle, diddle die: if they come not quickly,  
And bring all people that are skilful  
In Lungs and Livers: raise the neighbours,  
And all the Aquavite-bottles extant;  
And, O the Parson, Pedro; O the Parson,  
A little of his comfort, never so little;  
Twenty to one you find him at the Bush,  
There's the best Ale.  Ped. 
I fly. Exit Pedro.  Enter Maria, and Servants. Mar. 
Out with the Trunks, ho:  
Why are you idle? Sirrah, up to th'Chamber,  
And take the hangings down, and see the Linen  
Packed up, and sent away within this half hour.  
What are the Carts come yet? some honest body  
Help down the chests of Plate, and some the wardrobe,  
Alas we are undone else.  Jaq. 
Pray forsooth,  
And I beseech ye, tell me, is he dead yet?  Mar. 
No, but is drawing on: out with the Armour.  Jaq. 
Then I'll go see him.  Mar. 
Thou art undone then fellow: no man that has  
Been near him come near me.  Enter Sophocles, and Petronius. Soph. 
Why how now Lady, what means this?  Petron. 
Now daughter, how does my son?  Mar. 
Save all you can for Heaven sake.  Enter Livia, Byancha, and Tranio. Liv. 
Be of good comfort sister.  Mar. 
O my Casket.  Petron. 
How does thy husband woman?  Mar. 
Get you gone, if you mean to save your lives: the sickness.  Petron. 
Stand further off, I prithee.  Mar. 
Is i'th' house sir,  
My husband has it now;  
Alas he is infected, and raves extremely:  
Give me some counsel friends.  Bya. 
Why lock the doors up,  
And send him in a woman to attend him.  Mar. 
I have bespoke two women; and the City  
Hath sent a watch by this time: meat nor money  
He shall not want, nor prayers.  Petron. 
How long is't  
Since it first took him?  Mar. 
But within this three hours. Enter Watch.  
I am frighted from my wits:— O here's the watch;  
Pray do your Office, lock the doors up friends,  
And patience be his Angel.  Tra. 
This comes unlooked for:  Mar. 
I'll to the lodge; some that are kind and love me,  
I know will visit me. Petruchio within.  Petru. 
Do you hear my Masters: ho, you that lock the doors up.  Petron. 
'tis his voice.  Tra. 
Hold, and let's hear him.  Petru. 
will ye starve me here: am I a Traitor, or an Heretic.  
Or am I grown infectious?  Petron. 
Pray sir, pray.  Petru. 
I am as well as you are, goodman puppy.  Mar. 
Pray have patience,  
You shall want nothing sir.  Petru. 
I want a cudgel,  
And thee, thou wickedness.  Petron. 
He speaks well enough.  Mar. 
'Had ever a strong heart sir.  Petru. 
will ye hear me?  
First be pleased  
To think I know ye all, and can distinguish  
Every man's several voice: you that spoke first,  
I know my father in law; the other Tranio,  
And I heard Sophocles; the last, pray mark me,  
Is my damned wife Maria:  
If any man misdoubt me for infected,  
There is mine arm, let any man look on't.  Enter Doctor and Pothecary. Doct. 
Save ye Gentlemen.  Petron: 
O welcome Doctor,  
Ye come in happy time; pray your opinion,  
What think you of his pulse?  Doct. 
It beats with busiest,  
And shows a general inflammation,  
Which is the symptom of a pestilent fever,  
Take twenty ounces from him.  Petru. 
Take a fool;  
Take an ounce from mine arm, and Doctor Deuce-ace,  
I'll make a close-stool of your Velvet costard.  
— Gentlemen, do ye make a may-game on me?  
I tell ye once again, I am as sound,  
As well, as wholesome, and as sensible,  
As any of ye all: Let me out quickly,  
Or as I am a man, I'll beat the walls down,  
And the first thing I light upon shall pay for't.  Exit Doctor and Pothecary. Petro. 
Nay we'll go with you Doctor.  Mar. 
'tis the safest;  
I saw the tokens sir.  Petro. 
Then there is but one way.  Petru. 
will it please you open?  Tra. 
His fit grows stronger still.  Mar. 
Let's save ourselves sir,  
He's passed all worldly cure.  Petro. 
friend's do your office.  
And what he wants, if money, love, or labour,  
Or any way may win it, let him have it.  
Farewell, and pray my honest friends— Exeunt.  Petru. 
Why Rascals,  
Friends, Gentlemen, thou beastly wife, Jaques;  
None hear me? who at the door there?  1 Watch. 
Think I pray sir,  
Whether you are going, and prepare yourself.  2 Watch. 
These idle thoughts disturb you, the good Gentlewoman  
Your wife has taken care you shall want nothing.  Petru 
Shall I come out in quiet? answer me,  
Or shall I charge a fowling-piece, and make  
Mine own way; two of ye I cannot miss,  
If I miss three; ye come here to assault me.  
I am as excellent well, I thank Heaven for't,  
And have as good a stomach at this instant—  2 Watch. 
That's an ill sign.  1 Watch. 
He draws on; he's a dead man,  Petru. 
And sleep as soundly; will ye look upon me?  1 Watch. 
Do you want Pen and Ink? while you have sense sir,  
Settle your state.  Petru. 
Sirs, I am well, as you are;  
Or any Rascal living.  2 Watch. 
would you were sir.  Petru. 
Look to yourselves, and if you love your lives,  
Open the door, and fly me, for I shoot else;  
— I'll shoot, and presently, chain-bullets;  
And under four I will not kill.  1 Watch. 
Let's quit him,  
It may be it is trick: he's dangerous.  2 Watch. 
The devil take the hindmost, I cry. Exit watch running.  Enter Petruchio with a piece. Petru. 
Have among ye;  
The door shall open too, I'll have a fair shoot;  
Are ye all gone? tricks in my old days, crackers  
Put now upon me? and by Lady Green-sleeves?  
Am I grown so tame after all my triumphs?  
But that I should be thought mad, if I railed  
As much as they deserve against these women,  
I would now rip up from the primitive cuckold,  
All their arch-villainies, and all their dobles,  
Which are more than a hunted Hare ere thought on:  
When a man has the fairest, and the sweetest  
Of all their sex, and as he thinks the noblest,  
What has he then? and I'll speak modestly,  
He has a Quartern-ague, that shall shake  
All his estate to nothing; never cured,  
Nor never dying; H'as a sip to venture  
His fame, and credit in, which if he man not  
With more continual labour then a Galley  
To make her tith, either she grows a tumbril  
Not worth the cloth she wears; or springs more leaks  
Than all the fame of his posterity  
Can ever stop again: I could rail twenty days;  
Out on 'em hedgehogs,  
He that shall touch 'em, has a thousand thorns  
Runs through his fingers: If I were unmarried,  
I would do any thing below repentance,  
Any base dunhill slavery; be a hangman,  
Ere I would be a husband: O the thousand,  
Thousand, ten thousand ways they have to kill us!  
Some fall with too much stringing of the Fiddles,  
And those are fools; some, that they are not suffered,  
And those are Maudlin-lovers: some, like Scorpions,  
They poison with their tails, and those are Martyrs;  
Some die with doing good, those Benefactors,  
And leave 'em land to leap away: some few,  
For those are rarest, they are said to kill  
With kindness, and fair usage; but what they are  
My Catalogue discovers not: only 'tis thought  
They are buried in old walls with their heels upward.  
I could rail twenty days together now.  
I'll seek 'em out, and if I have not reason,  
And very sensible, why this was done,  
I'll go a birding yet, and some shall smart for't. Exit.    

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena prima.  Enter Moroso and Petronius. Mor. 
That I do love her, is without all question,  
And most extremely, dearly, most exactly;  
And that I would e'en now, this present Monday,  
Before all others, maids, wives, women, widows,  
Of what degree or calling, marry her,  
As certain too; but to be made a whim-wham,  
A Jib-crack, and a Gentleman o'th' first house  
For all my kindness to her.  Petron. 
How you take it?  
Thou get a wench, thou get dozen nightcaps;  
Wouldst have her come, and lick thee like a calf,  
And blow thy nose, and buss thee?  Mor. 
Not so neither.  Petron. 
What wouldst thou have her do?  Mor. 
Do as she should do;  
Put on a clean smock, and to Church, and marry,  
And then to bed a God's name, this is fair play,  
And keeps the king's peace; let her leave her bobs,  
I have had too many of them, and her quillets,  
She is as nimble that way as an Eel;  
But in the way she ought to me especially,  
A sow of Lead is swifter.  Petron 
quote your griefs down.  Mor. 
Give fair quarter, I am old and crazy,  
And subject to much fumbling, I confess it;  
Yet something I would have that's warm, to hatch me:  
But understand me I would have it so,  
I buy not more repentance in the bargain  
Then the ware's worth I have; if you allow me  
Worthy your Son-in-law, and your allowance,  
Do it a way of credit; let me show so,  
And not be troubled in my visitations,  
With blows, and bitterness, and down right railings,  
As if we were to couple like two cats,  
With clawing, add loud clamour:  Petron. 
Thou fond man  
Hast thou forgot the Ballard, crabbed age,  
Can May and january match together,  
And ne'er a storm between 'em? say she abuse thee,  
Put case she do.  Mor. 
Well.  Petron. 
Nay, believe she does.  Mor. 
I do believe she does.  Petron. 
And devilishly:  
Art thou a whit the worse?  Mor. 
That's not the matter,  
I know, being old, 'tis fit I am abused;  
I know 'tis handsome, and I know moreover  
I am to love her for't.  Petron. 
Now you come to me.  Mor. 
Nay more than this; I find too, and find certain,  
What Gold I have, Pearl, Bracelets, Rings, or Ouches,  
Or what she can desire, Gowns, Petticoats,  
waistcoats, Enbroydered-stockings, scarves, Calls, Feathers  
Hats, five pound Garters, Muffs, Masks, Ruffs, & Ribbons,  
I am to give her for't.  Petron. 
'tis right, you are so.  Mor. 
But when I have done all this, and think it duty,  
Is't requisite another bore my nostrils?  
Riddle me that.  Petron. 
Go get you gone, and dream  
She's thine within these two days, for she is so;  
The boy's beside the saddle: get warm broths,  
And feed apace; think not of worldly business,  
It cools the blood; leave off your tricks, they are hateful,  
And mere forerunners of the ancient measures;  
Contrive your beard o'th' top cut like Verdugoes;  
It shows you would be wise, and burn your nightcap,  
It looks like half a winding-sheet, and urges  
From a young wench nothing but cold repentance:  
You may eat Onions, so you'll not be lavish.  Mor. 
I am glad of that.  Petron. 
They purge the blood, and quicken,  
But after 'em, conceive me, sweep your mouth,  
And where there wants a tooth, stick in a clove.  Mar. 
Shall I hope once again, say't,  Petro. 
You shall sir:  
And you shall have your hope. Enter Byancha and Tranio.  Moro. 
Why there's a match then.  Byan. 
You shall not find me wanting, get you gone.  
Here's the old man, he'll think you are plotting else  
Something against his new Son. Exit Tranio.  Moro. 
Fare ye well sir. Exit Moroso.  Byan. 
And every Buck had his do,  
And every Cuckold a Bell at his Toe:  
Oh what sport should we have then, than bays then,  
O what sport should we have then?  Petro. 
This is the spirit, that inspires 'em all.  By. 
Give you good e'en.  Petro 
A word with you Sweet Lady.  By. 
I am very hasty sir.  Petro. 
So you were ever.  By. 
Well what's your will?  Petro. 
Was not your skilful hand  
In this last stratagem? were not your mischiefs  
eking the matter on?  By. 
In's shutting up?  
Is that it?  Petro. 
Yes.  By. 
I'll tell you.  Petro. 
Do,  By 
And truly.  
Good old man, I do grieve exceeding much,  
I fear too much.  Petro. 
I am sorry for your heaviness.  
Belike you can repent then?  By. 
There you are wide too.  
Not that the thing was done (conceive me rightly)  
does any way molest me.  Petro. 
What then Lady?  By. 
But that I was not in't, there's my sorrow, there  
Now you understand me, for I'll tell you,  
It was so sound a piece, and so well carried,  
And if you mark the way, so handsomely,  
Of such a height, and excellence, and art  
I have not known a braver, for conceive me,  
When the gross fool her husband would be sick—  Petro. 
Pray stay.  By. 
Nay, good, your patience: and no sense for't,  
Then stepped your daughter in.  Petro. 
By your appointment.  By. 
I would it had, on that condition  
I had but one half smock, I like it so well;  
And like an excellent cunning woman, cured me  
One madness with another, which was rare,  
And to our weak beliefs, a wonder.  Petro. 
Hang ye,  
For surely, if your husband look not to ye,  
I know what will.  By. 
I humbly thank your worship.  
And so I take my leave.  Petro. 
You have a hand I hear too.  By. 
I have two sir.  Petro. 
In my young daughter's business.  By. 
You will find there  
A fitter hand than mine, to reach her frets,  
And play down diddle to her.  Petro. 
I shall watch ye.  By. 
Do.  Petro. 
And I shall have justice.  By. 
Where?  Petro. 
That's all one;  
I shall be with you at a turn hence forward.  By. 
Get you a posset too; and so good even sir.  Exeunt. Enter Petruchio, jaques; and Pedro. Iaq. 
And as I told your worship, all the hangings,  
Brass, Pewter, Plate, e'en to the very looking-glasses.  Ped. 
And that that hung for our defence, the Armour,  
And the march Beer was going too: Oh jaques  
What a sad sight was that?  Iaq. 
Even the two roundlets,  
The two that was our hope, of muskadel,  
(Better ne'er tongue tripped over) these two Cannons,  
To batter brawn withal at Christmas, sir  
e'en those two lovely twins, the enemy  
Had almost cut off clean.  Petru. 
Go trim the house up.  
And put the things in order as they were. Exit Ped. and Iaq.  
I shall find time for all this: could I find her  
But constant any way, I had done my business;  
Were she a whore directly, or a scold,  
An unthrift, or a woman made to hate me,  
I had my wish, and knew which way to rain her:  
But while she shows all these, and all their losses,  
A kind of linsey woolsey, mingled mischief  
Not to be guessed at, and whether true, or borrowed,  
Not certain neither, what a hap had I, Enter Maria.  
And what a tidy fortune, when my fate  
Flung me upon this Bear-whelp? here she comes  
Now if she have a colour, for the fault is  
A cleanly one, upon my conscience  
I shall forgive her yet, and find a something  
Certain, I married for: her wit: I'll mark her.  Mar. 
Not let his wife come near him in his sickness,  
Not come to comfort him? she that all laws  
Of heaven, and Nations have ordained his second,  
Is she refused? and two old Paradoxes,  
Pieces of five and fifty, without faith  
Clapped in upon him? h'as a little pet,  
That all young wives must follow necessary  
Having their Maidenheads—  Petru. 
This is an Axiom  
I never heard before.  Mar. 
Or say rebellion  
If we durst be so foul, which two fair words  
Alas win us from, in an hour, an instant,  
We are so easy, make him so forgetful  
Both of his reason, honesty, and credit,  
As to deny his wife a visitation?  
His wife, that (though she was a little foolish,)  
Loved him, Oh heaven forgive her for't! nay doted,  
Nay had run mad, had she not married him,  Petru. 
Though I do know this falser than the devil,  
I cannot choose but love it.  Mar. 
What do I know  
But those that came to keep him, might have killed him,  
In what a case had I been then? I dare not  
Believe him such a base, debauched companion,  
That one refusal of a tender maid  
Would make him feign this Sickness out of need,  
And take a Keeper to him of fourscore  
To play at Billiards; one that mewed content  
And all her teeth together; not come near him?  Petru. 
This woman would have made a most rare Jesuit  
She can prevaricate on any thing:  
There was not to be thought a way to save her  
In all imagination, beside this.  Mar. 
His unkind dealing, which was, worst of all,  
In sending, who knows whether, all the plate,  
And all the householdstuff, had I not crossed it,  
By a great providence, and my friend's assistance  
Which he will thank me one day for: alas,  
I could have watched as well as they, have served him  
In any use, better, and willinger.  
The Law commands me to do it, love commands me.  
And my own duty charges me.  Petru. 
Heaven bless me.  
And now I have said my Prayers, I'll go to her:  
Are you a wife for any man?  Mar. 
For you Sir.  
If I were worse, I were better; That you are well,  
At least, that you appear so, I thank heaven,  
Long may it hold and that you are here, I am glad too,  
But that you have abused me wretchedly,  
And such a way that shames the name of husband,  
Such a malicious mangy way, so mingled,  
(Never look strangely on me, I dare tell you)  
With breach of honesty, care, kindness, manners.  Petru. 
Holla, you kick too fast.  Mar. 
Was I a stranger?  
Or had I vowed perdition to your person?  
Am I not married to you, tell me that?  Petru. 
I would I could not tell you.  Mar. 
Is my presence,  
The stock I come of, which is worshipful,  
If I should say right worshipful, I lied not,  
My Grandsire was a Knight.  Petru. 
O'the Shire?  Mar. 
A Soldier,  
Which none of all thy Family e'er heard off,  
But one conductor of thy name, a Grazier  
That ran away with pay: or am I grown  
(Because I have been a little peevish to you,  
Only to try your temper) such a dog-latch  
I could not be admitted to your presence?  Petru. 
If I endure this, hang me.  Mar. 
And two deaths heads,  
Two Harry Groats, that had their faces worn,  
Almost their names away too.  Petru. 
Now hear me.  
For I will stay no longer.  Mar. 
This you shall:  
however you shall think to flatter me,  
For this offence, which no submission.  
Can ever mediate for, you'll find it so,  
whatever you shall do by intercession,  
What you can offer, what your Land can purchase,  
What all your friends, or families can win,  
Shall be but this, not to forswear your knowledge,  
But ever to forbear it: now your will sir.  Petru. 
Thou art the subtlest woman I think living,  
I am sure the lewdest; now be still, and mark me;  
Were I but any way addicted to the devil,  
I should now think I had met a playfellow  
To profit by, and that way the most learned  
That ever taught to murmur. Tell me thou,  
Thou most poor, paltry spiteful whore: do you cry?  
I'll make you roar, before I leave.  Mar. 
Your pleasure.  Petru. 
Was it not sin enough, thou Fruiterer  
Full of the fall thou eatest: thou devil's broker,  
Thou Seminary of all sedition,  
Thou sword of vengeance, with a thread hung o'er us,  
Was it not sin enough, and wickedness  
In full abundance? was it not vexation  
At all points, cap a poe? nay, I shall pinch you,  
Thus like a rotten rascal to abuse.  
The name of heaven, the tie of marriage,  
The honour of thy friends; the expectation  
Of all that thought thee virtuous, with rebellion,  
Childish and base rebellion, but continuing.  
After forgiveness too, and worse, your mischief,  
And against him setting the hope of heaven by,  
And the dear reservation of his honour  
Nothing above ground could have won to hate thee:  
Well go thy ways.  Mar. 
Yes.  Petru. 
You shall hear me out first:  
What punishment may'st thou deserve, thou thing,  
Thou Idle thing of nothing, thou pulled Primrose,  
That two hours after, art a weed, and withered,  
For this last flourish on me? am I one  
Selected out of all the husbands living,  
To be so ridden by a Tit of ten pence,  
Am I so blind and Bedrid? I was mad,  
And had the Plague, and no man must come near me,  
I must be shut up, and my substance bezeled,  
And an old woman watch me.  Mar. 
Well sir, well,  
You may well glory in't.  Petru. 
And when it comes to opening, 'tis my plot,  
I must undo myself forsooth: dost hear me?  
If I should beat thee now, as much may be,  
Dost thou not well deserve it, o' thy conscience,  
Dost thou not cry, come beat me?  Mar. 
I defy you.  
And my last loving tears farewell: the first stroke,  
The very first you give me if you dare strike,  
Try me, and you shall find it so, for ever  
Never to be recalled: I know you love me,  
Mad till you have enjoyed me; I do turn  
Utterly from you, and what man I meet first,  
That has but spirit to deserve a favour,  
Let him bear any shape, the worse the better,  
Shall kill you, and enjoy me; what I have said  
About your foolish sickness, ere you have me  
As you would have me, you shall swear, is certain,  
And challenge any man, that dares deny it;  
And in all companies approve my actions,  
And so farewell for this time. Exit Mar.  Petru. 
Grief go with thee,  
If there be any witchcrafts, herbs, or potions,  
Saying my Prayers backward, Fiends, or Fairies  
That can again unlove me, I am made. Exit.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Byancha, and Tranio. Tra. 
Mistress, you must do it.  By. 
Are the writings ready I told you of?  Tra. 
Yes they are ready, but to what use I know not.  By. 
You're an Ass, you must have all things construed,  Tra. 
Yes, and pierced too,  
Or I find little pleasure.  By. 
Now you are knavish,  
Go too, fetch Rowland hither presently,  
Your twenty pound lies bleeding else: she is married  
Within these twelve hours, if we cross it not,  
And see the Papers of one size.  Tra. 
I have ye.  By. 
And for disposing of 'em.  Tra. 
If I fail you  
Now I have found the way, use martial Law  
And cut my head off with a hand Saw:  By. 
Well sir.  
Petronius and Moroso I'll see sent for  
About your business; go.  Tra. 
I am gone. Exit Tra.  By. 
Ho Livia. Enter Livia.  Liv. 
Who's that?  By. 
A friend of yours, Lord how you look now,  
As if you had lost a Carrick.  Liv. 
O Byancha.  
I am the most undone, unhappy woman.  By. 
Be quiet wench, thou shalt be done, and done,  
And done, and double done, or all shall split for't,  
No more of these minced passions, they are mangy,  
And ease thee of nothing, but a little wind,  
An apple will do more: thou fear'st Moroso.  Liv. 
Even as I fear the Gallows.  By. 
Keep thee there still.  
And you love Rowland? say.  Liv. 
If I say not  
I am sure I lie.  By. 
What wouldst thou give that woman,  
In spite of all his anger, and thy fear,  
And all thy Father's policy, that could  
Clap ye within these two nights quietly  
Into a Bed together?  Liv. 
How?  By. 
Why fairly,  
At half sword man and wife: now the red blood comes,  
I marry now the matters changed.  Liv. 
Byancha,  
methinks you should not mock me.  By. 
Mock a pudding.  
I speak good honest English, and good meaning.  Liv. 
I should not be ungrateful to that woman.  By. 
I know thou wouldst not, follow but my Counsel  
And if thou hast him not, despite of fortune  
Let me ne'er know a good night more; you must  
Be very sick o'th' instant.  Liv. 
Well, what follows?  By. 
And in that sickness send for all your friends,  
Your Father, and your favour old Moroso,  
And Rowland shall be there too.  Liv. 
What of these?  By. 
Do you not twitter yet? of this shall follow  
That which shall make thy heart leap, and thy lips  
Venture as many kisses, as the Merchants  
Do dollars to the East-Indies: you shall know all,  
But first walk in, and practise, pray be sick.  Liv. 
I do believe you: and I am sick.  By. 
Do  
To bed then, come, I'll send away your Servants  
Post for your Fool, and Father; and good fortune,  
As we mean honesty, now strike an upshot. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Tranio, and Rowland. Tra. 
Nay, on my conscience, I have lost my money,  
But that's all one: I'll never more persuade you,  
I see you are resolute, and I commend you.  Row. 
But did she send for me?  Tra. 
You dare believe me.  Row. 
I cannot tell, you have your ways for profit  
Allowed you Tranio, as well as I  
Have to avoid 'em fear:  Tra. 
No, on my word sir  
l deal directly with you. Enter Servant.  Row. 
How now fellow,  
Whither Post you so fast?  Serv. 
O sir my Master  
Pray did you see my Master?  Row. 
Why your Master?  Serv. 
Sir his Jewel.  Row. 
With the gilded Button?  Serv. 
My pretty Mistress Livia.  Row. 
What of her?  Serv. 
Is fall'n sick o'th' sudden.  Row. 
How o'th' sullens?  Serv. 
O'th' sudden sir, I say, very sick:  Row. 
It seems she hath got the toothache with raw apples.  Serv. 
It seems you have got the headache, fare you well sir.  
You did not see my Master?  Row. 
Who told you so?  Tra. 
No, no, he did not see him.  Row. 
Farewell blue bottle. Exit Servant.  
What should her sickness be?  Tra. 
For you it may be.  Row. 
Yes when my brains are out, I may believe it,  
Never before I am sure: yet I may see her  
'Twill be a point of honesty:  Tra. 
It will so.  Row. 
It may be not too: you would fain be fingering  
This old sin-offering of two hundred, Tranio,  
How daintily, and cunningly you drive me  
Up like a deer toth' toil, yet I may leap it,  
And what's the woodman then?  Tra. 
A looser by you.  
Speak will you go or not? to me 'tis equal.  Row. 
Come what goes less?  Tra. 
Nay not a penny Rowland.  Row. 
Shall I have liberty of conscience  
Which by interpretation, is ten kisses?  
Hang me if I affect her: yet it may be,  
This whoreson manners will require a struggling,  
Of two and twenty, or by’r lady thirty.  Tra. 
by’r lady I'll require my wager then,  
For if you kiss so often, and no kindness,  
I have lost my speculation, I'll allow you—  Row. 
Speak like a Gamester now.  Tra. 
It may be two.  Row. 
Under a dozen Tranio 'there's no settings,  
You shall have forty shillings, wink at small faults.  
Say I take twenty, come, by all that's honest  
I do it but to vex her.  Tra. 
I'll no by-lowes.  
If you can love her do, if you can hate her,  
Or any else that loves you.  Row. 
Prithee Tranio.  Tra. 
Why farewell twenty pound, 'twill not undo me;  
You have my resolution.  Row. 
And your money,  
Which since you are so stubborn, if I forfeit,  
Make me a Jack o' Lent, and break shins  
For untagged points and Compters: I'll go with you,  
But if thou get'st a penny by the bargain;  
A parting kiss is lawful?  Tra. 
I allow it.  Row. 
Knock out my brains with Apples; yet a bargain:  Tra. 
I tell you, I'll no bargains; win, and wear it.  Row. 
Thou art the strangest fellow.  Tra. 
That's all one.  Row. 
Along then, twenty pound more if thou dar'st,  
I give her not a good word.  Tra. 
Not a Penny. Exeunt.   

Scaena quarta.  Enter Petruchio, Jaques, and Pedro. Petru. 
Prithee, entreat her come, I will not trouble her Exit Pedro.  
Above a word or two; ere I endure  
This life, and with a woman, and a vowed one  
To all the mischiefs she can lay upon me,  
I'll go to Plough again, and eat leek Porridge;  
beg's a pleasure to 't not to be numbered:  
No there be other Countries jaques for me, and other people, yea, and other women.  
If I have need, here's money, there's your ware,  
Which is fair dealing, and the Sun, they say  
Shines as warm there, as here, and till I have lost  
Either myself, or her, I care not whether  
Nor which first.  Iaq. 
Will your worship hear me?  Petru. 
And utterly outworn the memory  
Of such a curse as this, none of my Nation  
Shall ever know me more.  Iaq. 
Out alas sir  
What a strange way do you run?  Petru. 
Any way,  
So I outrun this rascal.  Iaq. 
methinks now,  
If your good worship could but have the patience.  Petru. 
The patience, why the patience?  Iaq. 
Why I'll tell you,  
Could you but have the patience.  Petru. 
Well the patience.  Iaq. 
To laugh at all she does, or when she rails,  
To have a drum beaten o'th' top o'th' house,  
To give the neighbour's warning of her 'larm,  
As I do when my wife rebels.  Petru. 
Thy wife?  
Thy wife's a Pigeon to her a mere slumber,  
The dead of night's not stiller.  Iaq. 
Nor an Iron Mill.  Petru. 
But thy wife is certain.  Iaq. 
That's false Doctrine,  
You never read of a certain woman.  Petru. 
Thou know'st her way.  Ja. 
I should do, I am sure.  
I have ridden it night, and day, this twenty year.  Petri. 
But mine is such a drench of Balderdash,  
Such a strange carded cunningness, the Rainbow  
When she hangs bent in heaven, sheds not her colours  
Quicker and more than this deceitful woman Enter Ped.  
Weaves in her dyes of wickedness: what says she?  Ped. 
Nay not a word sir, but she pointed to me,  
As though she meant to follow; pray sir bear it  
e'en as you may, I need not teach your worship,  
The best men have their crosses, we are all mortal.  Petru. 
What ails the fellow?  Ped. 
And no doubt she may sir  Petru. 
What may she, or what does she, or what is she?  
Speak and be hanged.  Ped. 
She's mad Sir.  Petru. 
Heaven continue it.  Ped. 
Amen if't be his pleasure  Petru. 
How mad is she?  Ped. 
As mad as heart can wish sir: she has dressed herself  
(Saving your worship's reverence) just i'th' cut  
Of one of those that multiply i'th' Suburbs  
For single money, and as dirtily:  
If any speak to her, first she whistles,  
And then begins her compass with her fingers,  
And points to what she would have.  Petru. 
What new way's this?  Ped. 
There came in Master Sophocles,  Petru. 
And what  
Did Master Sophocles when he came in?  
Get my Trunks ready sirrah, I'll be gone straight.  Ped. 
He's here to tell you Enter Sophocles.  
She's horn mad jaques.  Soph. 
Call ye this a woman?  Petru. 
Yes sir, she is a woman,  Soph. 
Sir, I doubt it.  Petru. 
I had thought you had make experience,  Soph. 
Yes I did so.  
And almost with my life.  Petru. 
You rid too fast sir.  Soph. 
Pray be not mistaken: by this hand  
Your wife's as chaste, and honest as a virgin,  
For any thing I know: 'tis true she gave me  
A Ring.  Petru. 
For rutting.  Soph. 
You are much deceived still,  
Believe me, I never kissed her since, and now  
Coming in visitation, like a friend,  
I think she is mad sir, suddenly she started,  
And snatched the Ring away, and drew her knife out,  
To what intent I know not.  Petru. 
Is this certain?  Soph. 
As I am here sir.  Petru. 
I believe you honest. Enter Maria.  
And pray continue so.  Soph. 
She comes.  Petru. 
Now Damsel,  
What will your beauty do, if I forsake you?  
Do you deal by signs, and tokens? as I guess then,  
You'll walk abroad, this Summer, and catch Captains,  
Or hire a piece of holy ground i'th' Suburbs,  
And keep a nest of Nuns?  Soph. 
O do not stir her!  
You see in what a case she is?  Petru. 
She is dogged,  
And in a beastly case I am sure: I'll make her  
If she have any tongue, yet tattle Sophocles  
Prithee observe this woman seriously,  
And eye her well, and when thou hast done, but tell me  
(For thou hast understanding) in what case  
My sense was, when I chose this thing.  Soph. 
I'll tell you  
I have seen a sweeter—  Petru. 
An hundred times cry oysters.  
there's a poor Beggar wench about Blackfriars  
Runs on her breech may be an Empress to her.  Soph. 
Nay, now you are too bitter.  Petru. 
ne'er a whit sir:  
I'll tell thee woman; for now I have day to see thee,  
And all my wits about me, and I speak  
Not out of passion neither (leave your mumping)  
I know you're well enough: Now would I give  
A million but to vex her: when I chose thee  
To make a Bedfellow, I took more trouble,  
Than twenty Terms can come too, such a cause  
Of such a title, and so everlasting  
That Adam's Genealogy may be ended  
Ere any law find thee: I took a Leprosy,  
Nay worse, the plague, nay worse yet, a possession  
And had the devil with thee, if not more:  
And yet worse, was a beast, and like a beast  
Had my reward, a Jade to fling my fortunes;  
For who that had but reason to distinguish  
The light from darkness, wine from water, hunger  
from full satiety, and Fox from fern bush  
That would have married thee?  Soph. 
She is not so ill.  Petru. 
She's worse than I dare think of: she's so lewd,  
No Court is strong enough to bear her cause.  
She hath neither manners, honesty, behaviour,  
Wifehood, nor womanhood, nor any moral  
Can force me think she had a mother, no  
I do believe her steadfastly, and know her  
To be a woman-wolf by transmigration,  
Her first form was a ferret's underground,  
She kills the memories of men: not yet?  Soph. 
Do you think she's sensible of this?  Petru. 
I care not,  
Be what she will the pleasure I take in her,  
Thus I blow off, the care I took to love her,  
Like this point I untie, and thus I lose it,  
The husband I am to her, thus I sever:  
My vanity farewell: yet, for you have been  
So near me as to bear the name of wife,  
My unquenched charity shall tell you thus much  
(Though you deserve it well) you shall not beg,  
What I ordained your Jointure, honestly  
You shall have settled on you: and half my house,  
The other half shall be employed in prayers,  
(That meritorious charge I'll beat also  
Yet to confirm you christian) your apparel,  
And what belongs to build up such a folly,  
Keep I beseech you, it infects our uses,  
And now I am for travel.  Mar. 
Now I love you,  
And now I see you are a man I'll talk to you,  
And I forget your bitterness.  Soph. 
How now man?  Petru. 
O Pliny, if thou wilt be ever famous  
Make but this woman all thy wonders.  Mar. 
Sure sir  
You have hit upon a happy course, a blessed,  
And what will make you virtuous?  Petru. 
She'll ship me.  Mar. 
A way of understanding I long wished for,  
And now 'tis come, take heed you fly not back sir,  
methinks you look a new man to me now,  
A man of excellence, and now I see  
Some great design set in you: you may think now  
(And so may most that know me) 'twere my part  
Weakly to weep your loss, and to resist you,  
Nay hang about your neck and like a dotard  
Urge my strong tie upon you: but I love you,  
And all the world shall know it, beyond woman,  
And more prefer the honour of your Country,  
Which chiefly you are born for, and may perfect,  
The uses you may make of other Nations,  
The ripening of your knowledge, conversation,  
The full ability, and strength of judgement,  
Than any private love, or wanton kisses.  
Go worthy man, bring home understanding.  Soph. 
This were an excellent woman to breed Schoolmen.  Mar. 
For if the Merchant through unknown Seas plough  
To get his wealth, than dear sir, what must you  
To gather wisdom? go, and go alone,  
Only your noble mind for your companion,  
And if a woman may win credit with you,  
Go far: too far you cannot: still the farther  
The more experience finds you: and go sparing,  
One meal a week will serve you, and one suit,  
Through all your travels: for you'll find it certain,  
The poorer and the baser you appear,  
The more you look through still.  Petru. 
Dost hear her?  Soph. 
Yes.  Petru. 
What would this woman do if she were suffered,  
Upon a new adventure?  Soph. 
Make us nothing,  
I wonder that she writes not.  Mar. 
Then when time,  
And fullness of occasion have new made you,  
And squared you from a sot into a signior,  
Or nearer from a lade into a courser;  
Come home an aged man, as did Ulysses,  
And I your glad Penelope.  Petru. 
That must have  
As many lovers as I languages,  
And what she does with one i'th' day, i'th' night  
Undo it with another.  Mar. 
Much that way sir;  
For in your absence, it must be my honour,  
That, that must make me spoken of hereafter,  
To have temptations, and not little ones  
Daily and hourly offered me, and strongly,  
Almost believed against me, to set off  
The faith, and loyalty of her that loves you  Petru. 
What should I do?  Soph. 
Why by my— I would travel,  
Did not you mean so?  Petru. 
Alas no, nothing less man:  
I did it but to try sir, she's the devil,  
And now I find it, for she drives me, I must go:  
Are my trunks down there, and my horses ready?  Mir. 
Sir, for your house, and if you please to trust me  
With that you leave behind.  Petru. 
Bring down the money.  Mar. 
As I am able, and to my poor fortunes,  
I'll govern as a widow: I shall long  
To hear of your welldoing, and your profit:  
And when I hear not from you once a quarter,  
I'll wish you in the Indies, or Cataya,  
Those are the climes must make you.  Petru. 
How's the wind?  
She'll wish me out o'th' world anon.  Mar. 
For France.  
'tis very fair; get you aboard tonight sir,  
And lose no time, you know the tide stays no man,  
I have cold meats ready for you.  Petru. 
Far thee well.  
Thou hast fooled me o'th' Kingdom with a vengeance,  
And thou canst fool me in again.  Mir. 
Not I sir,  
I love you better, take your time, and pleasure.  
I'll see you horsed.  Petru. 
I think thou wouldst see me hanged too,  
Were I but half as willing.  Mar. 
Any thing  
That you think well of, I dare look upon.  Petru. 
You'll bear me to the lands end Sophocles,  
And other of my friends I hope.  Mar. 
ne'er doubt sir,  
You cannot want companions for your good:  
I am sure you'll kiss me ere I go; I have business,  
And stay long here I must not.  Petru. 
Get thee going.  
For if thou tarriest but another Dialogue  
I'll kick thee to thy Chamber.  Mar. 
Far you well Sir,  
And bear yourself, I do beseech you once more,  
Since you have undertaken doing wisely,  
Manly, and worthily, 'tis for my credit,  
And for those flying fames here of your follies,  
Your gambols, and ill breeding of your youth,  
For which I understand you take this travel,  
Nothing should make me leave you else, I'll deal  
So like a wife, that loves your reputation,  
And the most large addition of your credit,  
That those shall die: if you want Lemon-waters,  
Or any thing to take the edge o'th' Sea off,  
Pray speak, and be provided.  Petru. 
Now the Devil,  
That was your first good master, shower his blessing  
Upon ye all: into whose custody—  Mar. 
I do commit your Reformation,  
And so I leave you to your Stilo novo. Exit Maria  Petru. 
I will go: yet I will not: once more Sophocles  
I'll put her to the test.  Soph. 
You had better go.  Petru. 
I will go then: let's seek my father out,  
And all my friends to see me fair aboard:  
Then women, if there be a storm at Sea,  
Worse than your tongues can make, and waves more broken  
Than your dissembling faiths are, let me feel  
Nothing but tempests, till they crack my Keel.  Exeunt   

Actus Quintus,  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Petronius, and Byancha with four papers. By. 
Now whether I deserve that blame you gave me,  
Let all the world discern sir.  Petron. 
If this motion,  
(I mean this fair repentance of my Daughter)  
Spring from your good persuasion, as it seems so,  
I must confess I have spoke too boldly of you,  
And I repent.  By. 
The first touch was her own,  
Taken no doubt from disobeying you,  
The second I put to her, when I told her  
How good, and gentle yet, with free contrition  
Again you might be purchased: loving woman,  
She heard me, and I thank her, thought me worthy  
Observing in this point: yet all my council,  
And comfort in this case, could not so heal her  
But that grief got his share too, and she sickened.  Petron. 
I am sorry she's so ill, yet glad her sickness  
Has got so good a ground. Enter Moroso.  By. 
Here comes Moroso.  Petron. 
O you are very welcome,  
Now you shall know your happiness.  Mor. 
I am glad on't.  
What makes this Lady here?  By. 
A dish for you sir  
You'll thank me for hereafter.  Petron. 
True Moroso,  
Go get you in, and see your Mistress.  By. 
She is sick sir,  
But you may kiss her whole.  Mor. 
How.  By. 
Comfort her.  Mor. 
Why am I sent for sir?  Petron. 
Will you in, and see?  By. 
May be she needs confession.  Mor. 
By St. Mary,  
She shall have absolution then and penance,  
But not above her carriage.  Petron. 
Get you in fool. Exit. Mor.  By. 
Here comes the other too. En. Rowland and Tranio.  Petron. 
Now Tranio.  
Good e'en to you too, and you are welcome.  Row. 
Thank you.  Petron. 
I have a certain Daughter.  Row. 
Would you had sir.  Petron. 
No doubt you know her well.  Row. 
Nor never shall sir.  
She is a woman, and the ways unto her  
Are like the finding of a certain path  
After a deep fall'n Snow.  Petron. 
Well that's byth' by still.  
This Daughter that I tell you of is fall'n  
A little crop sick, with the dangerous surfeit  
She took of your affection.  Row. 
Mine sir?  Petron. 
Yes sir.  
Or rather, as it seems, repenting.  
And there she lies within, debating on't,  Row. 
Well sir.  Petron. 
I think 'twere well you would see her.  Row. 
If you please sir;  
I am not squeamish of my visitation.  Petron. 
But, this I'll tell you, she is altered much,  
You'll find her now another Livia.  Row. 
I have enough o'th' old sir.  Petron. 
No more fool,  
To look gay babies in your eyes young Rowland,  
And hang about your pretty neck.  Row. 
I am glad on't,  
And thank my Fates I have scaped such execution,  Petron. 
And buss you till you blush again.  Row. 
That's hard sir,  
She must kiss shamefully ere I blush at it,  
I never was so boyish; well, what follows?  Petron. 
She's mine now, as I please to settle her,  
At my command, and where I please to plant her:  
Only she would take a kind of farewell of you,  
And give you back a wandering vow or two,  
You left in pawn; and two or three slight oaths  
She lent you too, she looks for.  Row. 
She shall have 'em  
With all my heart sir, and if you like it better,  
A free release in writing.  Petron. 
That's the matter,  
And you from her, you shall have another Rowland,  
And then turn tail to tail, and peace by with you.  Row. 
So be it: your twenty pound sweats Tranio.  Tra. 
'Twill not undo me Rowland, do your worst.  Row. 
Come, shall we see her Sir?  By. 
whate'er she says  
You must bear manly Rowland, for her sickness  
Has made her somewhat teatish.  Row. 
Let her talk  
Till her tongue ache I care not: by this hand  
Thou hast a handsome face wench, and a body  
Daintily mounted; now do I feel an hundred  
running directly from me, as I pissed it.  Enter Livia discovered a-bed, and Moroso by her. By. 
pray draw 'em softly, the least hurry sir  
Puts her to much impatience.  Petron. 
How is't daughter?  Liv. 
O very sick, very sick, yet somewhat  
Better I hope; a little lightsomer,  
Because this goodman has forgiven me;  
Pray set me higher; Oh my head:  Bya. 
Well done wench.  Liv. 
Father, and all good people that shall hear me,  
I have abused this man perniciously; was never old man humbled so;  
I have scorned him, and called him nasty names,  
I have spit at him,  
Flung Candles ends in's beard, and called him harrow,  
That must be drawn to all he does: contemned him,  
For methought then he was a beastly fellow.  
(Oh God my side) a very beastly fellow.  
And gave it out, his cassock was a Barge-cloth,  
Pawned to his predecessor by a Sculler,  
The man yet living: I gave him purging-comfits  
At a great christening once,  
That spoiled his Chamblet breeches; and one night  
I strewed the stairs with pease, as he passed down;  
And the good Gentleman (woe worth me for't)  
e'en with his reverent head, this head of wisdom,  
Told two and twenty stairs, good and true;  
Missed not a step, and as we say verbatim  
Fell to the bottom, broke his casting Bottle,  
Lost a fair toadstone of some eighteen shillings,  
Jumbled his joints together, had two stools,  
And was translated. All this villainy  
Did I: I Livia, I alone, untaught.  Mor. 
And I unasked, forgive it.  Liv. 
Where's Byancha?  Bya. 
Here Cousin.  Liv. 
Give me drink,  Bya. 
There.  Liv. 
Who's that?  Mor. 
Rowland.  Liv. 
O'my dissembler, you and I must part.  
Come nearer sir.  Row. 
I am sorry for your sickness.  Liv. 
Be sorry for yourself sir, you have wronged me,  
But I forgive you; are the papers ready?  Bya 
I have'em here: wilt please you view 'em?  Petron. 
Yes.  Liv. 
Show 'em the young man too, I know he's willing  
To shift his sails too: 'tis for his more advancement;  
Alas, we might have beggared one another;  
We are young both, and a world of children  
Might have been left behind to curse our follies:  
We had been undone Byancha, had we married,  
Undone for ever: I confess I loved him,  
I care not who shall know it, most entirely;  
And once, upon my conscience, he loved me;  
But farewell that, we must be wiser x.  
Love must not leave us to the world: have you done?  Row. 
Yes, and am ready to subscribe.  Liv. 
Pray stay then:  
Give me the papers, and let me peruse 'em,  
And so much time, as may afford a tear  
At our last parting.  Bya. 
Pray retire, and leave her,  
I'll call ye presently.  Petro. 
Come Gentlemen, the shower must fall.  Row. 
Would I had never seen her.  Bya. 
Thou hast done bravely wench.  Liv. 
Pray Heaven it prove so.  Bya. 
There are the other papers: when they come  
Begin you first, and let the rest subscribe  
Hard by your side; give 'em as little light  
As Drapers do their wares.  Liv 
Didst mark Moroso,  
In what an agony he was, and how he cried most  
When I abused him most?  Bya. 
That was but reason.  Liv. 
Oh what a stinking thief is this?  
Though I was but to counterfeit, he made me  
Directly sick indeed. Thames-street to him  
Is a mere Pomander.  Bya. 
Let him be hanged.  Liv. 
Amen.  Bya. 
And lie you still.  
And once more to your business.  Liv. 
Call 'em in.  
Now if there be a power that pities lovers,  
Help now, and hear my prayers.  Enter Petronius, Rowland, Tranio, Moroso. Petro. 
Is she ready?  Bya. 
She has done her lamentations: pray go to her.  Liv. 
Rowland, come near me, and before you seal,  
Give me your hand: take it again; now kiss me,  
This is the last acquaintance we must have;  
I wish you ever happy: there's the paper.  Row. 
Pray stay a little.  Petro. 
Let me never live more  
But I do begin to pity this young fellow;  
How heartily he weeps!  Bya. 
There's Pen and Ink sir.  Liv. 
e'en here I pray you. 'tis a little Emblem  
How near you have been to me.  Row. 
There..  Bya. 
Your hands too,  
As witnesses.  Petro. 
By any means  
To th' book son.  Mor. 
With all my heart.  Bya. 
You must deliver it.  Row. 
There Livia, and a better love light on thee,  
I can no more.  Bya. 
To this you must be witness too.  Petro. 
We will.  Bya. 
Do you deliver it now.  Lyv. 
Pray set me up;  
There Rowland, all thy old love back: and may  
A new to come exceed mine, and be happy.  
I must no more.  Row. 
Farewell:  Liv. 
A long farewell. Exit Rowl.  Bya. 
Leave hereby any means, till this wild passion  
Be off her head; draw all the Curtains close,  
A day hence you may see her, 'twill be better,  
She is now for little company.  Petro. 
Pray tend her.  
I must to horse straight: you must needs along too,  
To see my son aboard; were but his wife  
As fit for pity, as this wench, I were happy.  Bya. 
Time must do that too: fare ye well; tomorrow  
You shall receive a wife to quit your sorrow. Exeunt.   

Scaena secunda.  Enter Jaques, Pedro, and Porters, with Chest and Hampers. Jag. 
Bring 'em away sirs.  Ped. 
Must the great Trunks go too  Jaq. 
Yes, and the Hampers; nay be speedy Masters;  
He'll be at Sea before, us else.  Ped. 
O Jaques,  
What a most blessed turn hast thou?  Jaq. 
I hope so.  Ped. 
To have the Sea between thee and this woman,  
Nothing can drown her tongue, but a storm.  Jaq. 
By your leave,  
We'll get us up to Paris with all speed;  
For on my soul, as far as Amiens  
She'll carry blank; away to Lion key  
And ship 'em presently, we'll follow ye.  Ped. 
Now could I wish her in that Trunk:  Jaq 
God shield man,  
I had rather have a Bear in't.  Ped. 
Yes, I'll tell ye:  
For in the passage if a Tempest take ye,  
As many do, and you lie beating for it,  
Then, if it pleased the fates, I would have the Master  
Out of a powerful providence, to cry,  
Lighten the ship of all hands, or we perish;  
Then this for one, as best spared, should by all means  
Overboard presently.  Jaq. 
O' that condition,  
So we were certain to be rid of her,  
I would wish her with us: But believe me Pedro,  
She would spoil the fishing on this coast for ever,  
For none would keep her company, but Dogfish,  
As currish as herself; or Porpoises,  
Made to all fatal uses: The two Fish-streets  
Were she but once arrived amongst the Whitings,  
Would sing a woeful misereri Pedro,  
And mourn in poor John, till her memory  
Were cast o' shore again, with a strong Sea-breach:  
She would make god Neptune, and his fire-fork,  
And all his demigods, and goddesses,  
As weary of the Flemish channel Pedro,  
As ever boy was of the school: 'tis certain,  
If she but meet him fair, and were well angered,  
She would break his godhead.  Ped. 
Oh her tongue, her tongue.  Jaq. 
Rather her many tongues.  Ped. 
Or rather strange tongues.  Jaq. 
Her lying tongue.  Ped. 
Her lisping tongue.  Jaq. 
Her long tongue.  Ped. 
Her lawless tongue.  Jaq. 
Her loud tongue.  Ped. 
And her liquorish—  Jaq. 
Many other tongues, and many stranger tongues  
Than ever Babel had to tell his ruins,  
Were women raised withal; but never a true one.  Enter Sophocles. Soph. 
Home with your stuff again; the journeys ended.  Jaq. 
What does your worship mean?  Soph. 
Your Master, O Petruchio, O poor fellows.  Ped. 
O Jaques, Jaques.  Soph. 
O your, Master's dead,  
His body coming back; his wife, his devil;  
The grief of— her  Jaq. 
Has killed him?  Soph. 
Killed him, killed him.  Ped. 
Is there no law to hang her.  Soph. 
Get ye in,  
And let her know her misery, I dare not  
For fear impatience seize me, see her more,  
I must away again: Bid her for wifehood,  
For honesty, if she have any in her,  
Even to avoid the shame that follows her.  
Cry if she can: your weeping cannot mend it.  
The body will be here within this hour, so tell her;  
And all his friends to curse her. Farewell fellows.  Exit Soph. Ped. 
O Jaques, Jaques.  Jaq. 
O my worthy Master.  Ped. 
O my most beastly Mistress, hang her.  Jaq. 
Split her.  Ped. 
Drown her directly.  Jaq. 
Starve her.  Ped. 
Stink upon her.  Jaq. 
Stone her to death: may all she eat be Eggs,  
Till she run kicking mad for men.  Ped. 
And he,  
That man, that gives her remedy, pray Heaven  
He may e'en ipso facto, lose his longings.  Jaq. 
Let's go discharge ourselves, and he that serves her,  
Or speaks a good word of her from this hour,  
A seagly curse light on him, which is, Pedro;  
The fiend ride through him booted, and spurred, with a sith at's back. Exeunt.   

Scena tertia.  Enter Rowland, and Tranio stealing behind him. Row. 
What a dull ass was I to let her go thus?  
Upon my life she loves me still: well Paper,  
Thou only monument of what I have had,  
Thou all the love now left me, and now lost,  
Let me yet kiss her hand, yet take my leave  
Of what I must leave e'er Farewell Livia.  
Oh bitter words, I'll read ye once again,  
And then for ever study to forget ye.  
How's this? let me look better on 't: A Contract?  
— a Contract, sealed, and ratified,  
Her father's hand set to it, and Moroso's  
I do not dream sure, let me read again,  
The same still: 'tis a contract.  Tra. 
'tis so rowland's;  
And by the virtue of the same, you pay me  
An hundred pound tomorrow.  Row. 
Art sure Tranio,  
We are both alive now?  Tra. 
Wonder not, ye have lost.  Row. 
If this be true, I grant it.  Tra. 
'tis most certain,  
There's a Ring for you to, you know it.  Row. 
Yes.  Tra. 
When shall I have my money?  Row. 
Stay ye, stay ye,  
When shall I marry her?  Tra. 
tonight.  Row. 
Take heed now  
You do not trifle me; if you do,  
You'll find more payment, than your money comes to:  
Come swear; I know I am a man, and find  
I may deceive myself: Swear faithfully,  
Swear me directly, am I Rowland?  Tra. 
Yes.  Row. 
Am I awake?  Tra. 
Ye are.  Row. 
Am I in health?  Tra. 
As far as I conceive.  Row. 
Was I with Livia?  Tra. 
You were, and had his contract.  Row. 
And shall I enjoy her?  Tra. 
Yes, if ye dare.  Row. 
Swear to all these.  Tra. 
I will.  Row. 
As thou art honest, as thou hast a conscience,  
As that may wring thee if thou liest; all these  
To be no vision, but a truth, and serious.  Tra. 
Then by my honesty, and faith, and conscience;  
All this is certain.  Row. 
Let's remove our places.  
Swear it again.  Tra. 
By— 'tis true.  Row. 
I have lost then, and Heaven knows I am glad out.  
Let's go, and tell me all, and tell me how,  
For yet I am a Pagan in it.  Tra. 
I have a Priest too,  
And all shall come as even as two Testers. Exeunt.   

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Petronius, Sophocles, Moroso, and Petruchio born in a Coffin. Petron. 
Set down the body, and one call her out.  Enter Maria in black, and Jaques. 
You are welcome to the last cast of your fortunes;  
There lies your husband, there your loving husband,  
There he that was Petruchio, too good for ye;  
Your stubborn, and unworthy way has killed him  
Ere he could reach the Sea; if ye can weep,  
Now ye have cause begin, and after death  
Do something yet to th'world, to think ye honest.  
So many tears had saved him, shed in time;  
And as they are (so a good mind go with 'em)  
Yet they may move compassion.  Mar. 
Pray ye all hear me,  
And judge me as I am, not as you covet,  
For that would make me ye more miserable:  
'tis true, I have cause to grieve, and mighty cause;  
And truly and unfeignedly I weep it.  Soph. 
I see there's some good nature yet left in her.  Mar. 
But what's the cause? mistake me not, not this man,  
As he is dead, I weep for; Heaven defend it,  
I never was so childish: but his life,  
His poor unmanly wretched foolish life,  
Is that my full eyes pity, there's my mourning.  Petron. 
Dost thou not shame?  Mar. 
I do, and even to water,  
To think what this man was, to think how simple,  
How far below a man, how far from reason,  
From common understanding, and all Gentry,  
While he was living here he walked amongst us.  
He had a happy turn he died; I'll tell ye,  
These are the wants I weep for, not his person:  
The memory of this man, had he lived  
But two years longer, had begot more follies,  
Then wealthy Autumn flies: But let him rest,  
He was a fool, and farewell he; not pitied,  
I mean in way of life, or action  
By any understanding man that's honest;  
But only in's posterity, which I  
Out of the fear his ruins might out live him  
In some bad issue, like a careful woman,  
Like one indeed born only to preserve him,  
denied him means to raise.  Petru. 
Unbutton me,  
— I die indeed else? O Maria,  
Oh my unhappiness, my misery.  Petron. 
Go to him whore;— if he perish,  
I'll see thee hanged myself.  Petru. 
Why, why Maria.  Mar. 
I have done my worst, and have my end, forgive me;  
From this hour make me what you please: I have tamed ye,  
And now am vowed your servant: Look not strangely,  
Nor fear what I say to you. Dare you kiss me?  
Thus I begin my new love.  Petru. 
Once again?  Mar. 
With all my heart.  Petru. 
Once again Miria!  
O Gentlemen, I Know not where I am.  Soph. 
Get ye to bed then: there you'll quickly know sir.  Petru. 
Never no more your old tricks?  Mar. 
Never sir.  Petru. 
You shall not need, for as I have a faith  
No cause shall give occasion.  Mar. 
As I am honest,  
And as I am a maid yet, all my life  
From this hour since, since ye make so free profession,  
I dedicate in service to your pleasure.  Soph. 
I marry, this goes roundly off.  Petru. 
Go Jaques,  
Get all the best meat may be bought for money,  
And let the hogsheads blood, I am born again:  
Well little England, when I see a husband  
Of any other Nation stern or jealous,  
I'll wish him but a woman of thy breeding,  
And if he have not butter to thy bread,  
Till thy teeth bleed, I'll never trust my travel.  Enter Rowland, Livia, Byancha, and Tranio. Petro. 
What have we here?  Row. 
Another morris, sir.  
That you must pipe too.  Tra. 
A poor married couple  
Desire an offering sir.  Bya. 
Never frown at it,  
You cannot mend it now: there's your own hand;  
And yours Moroso, to confirm the bargain.  Petron. 
My hand?  Mor. 
Or mine?  Bya. 
You'll find it so.  Petron. 
A trick.  
By— a trick.  Bya. 
Yes sir, we tricked ye.  Liv. 
Father.  Petro. 
Hast thou lain with him? speak?  Liv. 
Yes truly sir.  Petro. 
And hast thou done the deed boy?  Row. 
I have done sir,  
That, that will serve the turn, I think.  Petru. 
A match then,  
I'll be the maker up of this: Moroso,  
There's now no remedy you see, be willing;  
For be, or be not, he must have the wench.  Mor. 
Since I am overreached, let's in to dinner,  
And if I can I'll drink't away.  Tra. 
That's well said.  Petro. 
Well sirrah, you have played a trick, look to't,  
And let me be a grandsire within's twelvemonth,  
Or by this hand, I'll curtail half your fortunes.  Row. 
There shall not want my labour sir: your money;  
Here's one has undertaken.  Tra. 
Well, I'll trust her,  
And glad I have so good a pawn.  Row. 
I'll watch ye.  Petru. 
Let's in, and drink of all hands, and be jovial:  
I have my colt again, and now she carries;  
And Gentlemen, whoever marries next,  
Let him be sure he keep him to his Text. Exeunt.     

PROLOGUE.  
LAdies to you, in whose defence and right,  
Fletcher's brave Muse prepared herself to fight  
A battle without blood, 'twas well fought too,  
(The victory's yours, though got with much ado.)  
We do present this Comedy, in which  
A rivulet of pure wit flows, strong and rich  
In Fancy, Language, and all parts that may  
Add grace and ornament to a merry Play.  
Which this may prove. Yet not to go too far  
In promises from this our female war,  
We do entreat the angry men would not  
Expect the mazes of a subtle plot,  
Set Speeches, high expressions; and what's worse,  
in a true Comedy, politic discourse.  
The end we aim at, is to make you sport;  
Yet neither gall the City, nor the Court.  
Hear, and observe his Comic strain and when  
You're sick of melancholy, see't again.  
'Tis no dear Physic, since 'twill quit the cost:  
Or his intentions, with our pains, are lost.   

EPILOGUE.  
THe Tamer's tamed, but so, as nor the men  
Can find one just cause to complain of, when  
They fitly do consider in their lives,  
They should not reign as Tyrants o'er their wives.  
Nor can the women from this precedent  
Insult, or triumph: it being aptly meant,  
To teach both Sexes due equality;  
And as they stand bound, to love mutually.  
If this effect, arising from a cause  
Well laid, and grounded, may deserve applause,  
We something more than hope, our honest ends  
Will keep the men, and women too, our friends.  
FINIS.