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Nure. (Wikin.] Signior Fabritio! !good done. ! Ha! you little sugar-sop! 'tis a sweet baby; Des ). This is a wonan's tongue; here may be 'Twere barbarous to leave it: ten to one 'to. Nürn. (Wahin.) Who's there? Fabritio ? Worse sin than his who got it. Well, I'll take D. J. Av.

And keep it as they keep death's-head, in ring Nurse Stithin.) Where are you?

To cry memento to me, “ No more peeping Dom J. Here.

Now all the danger is to qualify
Nurse. Wishin.) Oh! come, for heaven's sake! The good old gentlewoman, at whose bouge
Dsd. I nust see what this means.

For she will fall upon me with a catechism
Enter Vurse with a Child.

Of four hours long. Come, good wonder, Nune. I have stayed this long hour for you; Will waken the rude watch else. All that te

Let you and I be jogging; your start'd treba make no noise ;

Curious night-walkers, may they find my kee! For things are in strange trouble. Here; be secret: *Tus worth your care: begone now; more eyes watch us,

SCENE IV.-A Streel.
Than may be for our safeties.
Dan J. Harkye-

Ninte. Peace; good night!


Don F. Sure, he's gone home. I have beater zi Dund. She's gone, and I am loaden. Fortune

the purlicus, for me!

But cannot bolt him: if he be a bobbing-What's It weighs well, and it feels well; it mar chance To be son.e pack of worth: by th’mass, 'tis heary!

Enter First CONSTANTII. Jf it be coin or jewels, it is worth welcome.

I Con. I am ready, I'U ne'er refuse a fortune : I am confident 'Tis of no common price. Now to my lodgings:

And through a world of dangers am Born to you;

Be full of haste and care, we are undone else.
If it be night, l'ul bless this night.

Where are your people? Which way bos: T.

SCENE III.- Another Street,

For heaven's sake, stay not here, sir ! Enter Drke, Graxan, Pedro, and Perez.

Don F. What may this prove ?

I Con. Alas! I am mistaken, last, undone,
Duke. Welcome to town. Are ye all fit?
Gu. To point, sir.

For ever perisb'd! Sir, for heaven's sake tell me, Duke. Where are the horses ?

Are you a gentleman ?

Don F. I am. Pedro. Where they were appointed.

I Con. Of this place?
Duke. Be private all, and whatsoever fortune

Don F. No; born in Spain.
Offer itself, let us stand sure.
Perez Fear not;

1 Con. As ever you lor'd honour, Ere you shall be endanger'd, or deluded,

As ever your desires may gain their ends, We'll make a black night on't.

Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit, Duke. No more, I know it;

For I am forc'd to trust you. You know your quarters.

Don F. You have charm'd me; Guz. Will you go alone, sir ?

Humanity and honour bid me belp you
Duke. Ye shall not be far from me; the least noise And if I fail your trust

I Con. The time's too dangerous
Shall bring you to my rescue.
Pedro. We are counsellid.


To stay your protestations: I believe you,

Alas ! I must believe you. From this place,
Enter Don John, with a Child, crying. Good, noble sir, remove me instandy;
Don J. Was ever man so paid for being curious; And, for a time, where nothing but yourself

, Ever so bobb’d for searching out adventures, And honest conversation, may come near me; As I am! Did the devil lead me ? Must I needs be In some secure place settle me. What I an, peeping

And why thus boldly I commit my credit Into men's houses, where I had no business, Into a stranger's hand, the fear and dangers And make myself a mischief?

That force me to this wild course, at more leisure, What have I got by this now ?

I shall reveal unto you. A piece of pap and caudle-work-a child:

Don F. Come, be hearty; This comes of peeping!

He must strike through my life that takes you from What a figure do I make now! good white bread,

(Eseunt. Let's have no bawling wi' ye. 'Sdeath! have I Known wenches thus long, all the ways of wenches,

Their snares and subtleties,
And am I now bumfiddled with a bastard ?

Well, Don John,

BAPTISTA. You'll be wiser one day, when you have paid dearly Petr. He will sure come: are se all well aned? For a collection of these butter prints.

Anto. Never fear us : "Twould not grieve me to keep this gingerbread, Here's that will make them dance without a fólk. Were it of my own baking; but to beygar

Petr. We are to look for no weak foes, my friends, Myself in caudles, nurses, coral, bells, and babies, Nor unadris'd ones. For other men's iniquities !

Anto. Best gamesters make the best playi
What shall I do with it now?

We shall fight close, and home, too.
Should I be caught here dandling this pap-spoon, San. Antonio,
I shall be sung in ballads;

You are a thought too bloody.
No eyes are near I'll drop it,

[me! For the next curious coxcomb. How it smiles upon And penny almanacks allow the opening

Anto. Why, ale physicians


f veins this month. Why do you talk of bloody?

Enter Peter, with a bottle of wine What come we for, to fall to cuffs for apples? Vhai, would you make the cause a cudgel-quarrel ? Don J. There is no talking to her till I have Do what terms stands this man? Is not his honour

drench'd her:

(Aside. pen’d this hand, and pick'd out like an oyster ? Give me: here, mother, take a good round draught. llis crcdit like a quart-pot knock'd together, It will puige spleen from your spirits : deeper, moAble to hold no liquor ? Clear out this point.

ther. Petr. Speak soft, gentle cousin.

Land. Ay, ay, son, you imagine this will mend all, Ant). I'll speak truly.

Don J. All, i'faith! mother. What should man do, allied to these disgraces, Land. I confess, the wine Luck ver his enemy, sit down, and dance him?

Will do its part. Cry, “That's my tine boy, thou shalt do so no more, Don J. I'll pledge you. child ?"

Land. But, son John

(once more. Petr. Here are no such cold pities.

Don J. I know your meaning, mother; touch it Anilo. By St. Jaques,

(Andrew, Alas! you look not well. Take a round draught, , They shall not find me one! Here's old tough | And then we'll talk at large. A special.friend of mine, and be but hold, {for, Land. A civil gentleman ! I'll strike them such a hornpipe! Knocks I come A stranger: one the town holds a good regard of. And the best blood I'll light on: I profess it

(Aside. Not to scare costermongers. If I lose my own, Don J. Now we grow kind and maudlin. (Aside. My audit's cast, and farewell five-and-fifty.

Land. One that should weigh his fair name! Petr. Let's talk no longer, place yourself with (Aside.) Oh! a stitch ! silence,

Don J. There's nothing better for a stitch, good As I direct you į and when time calls us,

mother : As ye are friends, so shew yourselves.

Make no spare of it as you love your health; Anto. So be it.

Mince not the matter. Oh! how my fingers tingle to be at them!

Land. As I said, a gentleman lodge in my house! (Exeunt. Now heaven's my comfort, signior!

Don J. And the wine, good mother.
SCENE IV.-A Chamber.
I look'd for this.


Land. I did not think you would have us’d me Enter Don John and his Landlady.


A woman of credit; one, heaven knows ! Land. Nay, son, if this be your regard

That loves you but too tenderly. Don J. Good mother

[yourself Don J. The thunder ceases, and the rain descends. Land. Good me no goods. Your cousin and Land. What do you say, son ? Are welcome to me whilst you bear yourselves Don J. I say, mother,

lit. Like honest and true gentlemen. Bring hither, That I ever found your kindness, and acknowledyo To my house, that have ever been reputed

Land. No, no; I am a foul to counsel you. A gentlewoman of a decent and fair carriage,

Where's the infant ? And so behav'd myself

Come, let's see your workmanship. Don J. I know you have.

Don J. It is none of mine, mother, but I'll fetch it Iand. Bring hither, as I say, to make my name Here it is, and a lusty one. Stink in my neighbours' nostrils, your devices, Land. Oh! heaven bless thee! As I live, Your brats, got out of allicant and broken oaths; Your own eyes, signior; and the nether lip Your liusey-wolsey work, your fileh'd iniquities ! As like you as you had spit it. You're deceived in me, sir, I am none

Don Í. I am glad on’t. Of those receivers.

Land. Bless me! what things are these ? Dun J. Have I not sworn into yon,

Don J. I thought my labour 'Tis none of mine, and shew'd you how I found it? Was not all lost ; 'tis gold, and these are jewels,

Land. You found an easy fool that let you get it. Both rich and right, I hope.
Dom J. Will you hear me?

(your ends, Land. Well, well, son John,
Lanl. Oaths! what care you for oaths to gain Here I am with you now, when, as they say,
When you are high and pain per’d? What saint Your pleasure comes with profit.
knows you?

Don J. All this time, good mother, Or that religion, but your wicked passions ? The child wants looking to, wants meat and nurses. I'm sick to see this dealing.

Land. Now blessing o' thy heart! it shall have all,, Don J. Heaven forbid, mother!

And instantly : I'll seek a nurse myself, son.
Lanl. Nay, I am very sick.

"Tis a sweet child! Ah! my young Spaniard ! l'on J. Who waits there?

Take you no further care, sir. Peaer. (Within.] Sir?

Don J. Yes, of these jewels, Don J. Bring a bottle of canary wine.

I must, by your good leave, mother; these are mine: Lind. Exceeding sick, heaven help me! The gold for bringing up of't, I freely render Don J. Hlasce you, sirrah !

To your charge : for the rest, I'll find a master I must e'en makó her drunk. (Aside.] Nay, gentle But where's Don Fredrick, mother? mother

Land. Ten to one,
Land. Now tie upon you! was it for this purpose About the like avventure; he told me
You fetch'd your evening walks for

your devotions, He was to find you out. For this preténded holiness? No weather,

Don J. Why should he stay thus ? Not before day, could hold you from the matins. There may be some ill chance in't ; sleep I will net, Were these your bo-peep prayers ?

Before I have found him, Still sicker, sicker)

Well, ipy dear mother, let the child be look'd to


And look zu to be rewarded About it

I C. The presently, Straight puud motber. .

With all cos recient baste, you will retire Lund. No more words, DO DO Dore ebadres, L'ets the street pos dende in: Good son, as you love me : thuis way do weil: There, if yesd a gentlemas oppress' This stali do well: eb! you little, sweet cberub! With burde and violence, do a mas's ofice,

(Esit with the Child. And in your sword, to rescue bem Do J. Away! So, so; I bought the side Das F. He's safe, would do is doty:

Be sbat be wil; and let his foes be derzls, Sbe'll kill the child with kindness : tother glass, Arm'd with your beasty, I shall conjese thez And sbe bad rarish'd me. There is no way Retire; this key will guide yoe: all things bedste Of bringing willen of ber age to reassa,

Are there before you. But by this: girls of fifteen are caught

I Co. All my prayers go with you! Fifty wars; they bite as fast as you throw in;

Don F. Men say, gold But with the old cold 'tis a diff'rent dealing, Does all, engages all, works throach 2!1 dargers: 'Tis wine in ust warn them to their sense of feeling. Now, I say, beanty can do more. The kitg's es


Vor all his wealthy Indies, could but dras se
Through half those miseries this prece of pleaser
Might make me leap into:

Yet, I vow,

My hopes shall die, and my tongue rot within m

Ere I infringe my faith. Nos to my rescue SCENE I.-A Chamber.

SCENE II.- A Street. Enter Don FREDERICK, and ANTHOXY with a candle.

Enter the Duke, purnued by PETRUCHIO, ANTONTA,

and that party. Don F. Give me the candle; so, go you out that

Duke. You will not all oppress me?
Anth. What have we now to do? (Aside. Anio. Kill him i'th' wanton eye.

Don F. And, on your life, sirrah! (ledge; Let me come to him.
Let none come near the door, without me know- Duke. Then you shall buy me dearly.
No, not my landlady, nor my friend.

(They fight; the Duke fights and retreats. Anth. 'Tis done, sir.


Enter Don Jons. Don F. Nor any serious business that concerns

Don J. Sare, 'tis fighting! Anth. Is the wind there again? (Aside. My friend may be engag'd Fie! gentlemen, Don P. Begone! Anth. I am, sir.


This is unmanly odds. (Duke falls.] Press apie

A fall'n enemy! it is cowardly: Fred. Now enter without fear.

Thus will I protect him. (Bestrides the Dix Enter First ConstanTIA.

Anto. I'll stop your mouth, sir.

Don J. Nay, then, have at thee freely. And, noble lady,

There's a plum to satisfy your longing. That safety and civility you wish for,

Petr. He's fallen; I hope I have sped him. Shall truly here attend you:

Where's Antonio? No wishes,

Anto. I must have one thrust more, sis. Beyond the moderation of a man,

Don J. Come up to me.
Dare enter here. Your own desires and innocence,

Anto. A mischief confound your fingers!
Join'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect you.
I Con. You are truly noble,

He's given me my quietus est ; I felt him

In my small guts; I'm sure he's feez'd me : And worth a woman's trust : let it become me,

This comes of siding with you. (I do beseech you, sir,) for all your kindness,

Petr. I hear more rescue coming. To render, with my thanks, this worthless trifle :

[Trampling sritica (Offers a ring

Anto. Let's turn back, then ; I may be longer troublesome.

My skull's uncloven yet, let me bat kill sumebody. Don F. Fair offices Are still their own rewards: beaven bless me, lady,

Petr. Away, for heaven's sake, wita hin! From selling civil courtesies. May it please you,

[They hurry ANTONIO If you will force a favour, to oblige me,

Enter the Duke's Party. Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfy me

Don J. Help, gentlemen! How is it? For what good angel I'm engag'd.

Duke. Well, sir, 1 Con. It shall be ;

Only a little stagger'd. For I am truly confident you're honest :

Duke's Party. Let's pursue them. The piece is scarce worth looking un.

Duke. No; not a man, I charge you. Don F. Trust me,

My thanks to you, brave sir, whose timely rarur The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness ! And manly courtesy came to my rescue. What eyes are there!

Don J. You had foul play offer'd you, and shasse

befall him If there be any further scrvice to cast on me, That can pass by oppression. Let it be worth my life, so much I honour you

Duke. May I crave, sir, 1 Com. Your service is too liberal, worthy sir. But this much honour more, to know your DAE Thus far I shall entreatDon F. Command me, lady:

And him I am so bound to?

Don J. For the bond, sir, You make your power loo poor.

'Tis every good man's lie; to kpow me farthez,

Noble lady,

Wiil little profit you; I am a stranger;

Nor where to find the place again; but, Frederick, My country, Spain; my name, Don John; a gen- 'Tis no poor one, tleman

That's my best comfort

, for't has brought about it That came abroad to travel.

Enough to make it, man. Duke. I have heard, sir,

Don F. Where is't? Much worthy mention of you, yet I find

Don J. At home. Fame short of what you are.

Don F. A saving voyage; but what will you say, Don J. You are pleas’d, sir,

signior, To express your courtesy; may I demand To him that, searching out your serious worship, As freely what you are, and what mischance Has met a stranger fortune ? Cast you into this danger ?

Don J. How, good Frederick ? Dike. For this present

A little squeaking girl to this boy would hit it. I must desire your pardon; you shall know me Don F. No, mine's a nobler venture; what do Ere it be long, sir, and nobler thanks

you think, sir, Than now my will can render.

Of a distress'd lady, one whose beauty
Don J. Your will's your own, sir. (Looking about. Would oversell all Italy ?
Duke. What is't you look for, sir ? Have you Don J. Where is she ?
Jost anything?

(fellows Don F. A woman of that rare behaviour,
Don J. Only my hat i'th' scuffle ; sure, these So qualified, as love and admiration
Were night-snaps !

Dwell round about her; of that perfect spiritDuke. No, believe me, sir ; pray, use mine, Don J. Ay, marry, sir? For 'twill be hard to find your own now.

Don F. That admirable carriage, Don J. Indeed, I cannot.

That sweetness in discourse : young as the morning, Duke. Indeed, you shall : I can command another. Her blushes staining his. I do beseech you, honour me.

Don J. But where's this creature ? Don J. Well, sir, then I will ;

Shew me but that. And so I'll take my leave.

Don F. That's all one; she's forthcoming. Duke. Within these few days

I have her sure, boy. I hope I shall be happy in your knowledge,

Don J. Harkye! Frederick; Till when, you live in my remembrance.

What truck betwixt my infant ? (Erit with his party.

Don F. 'Tis too light, sir; Don J. And you in mine.

Stick to your charge, good Don John; I am well. This is some noble fellow!

Don J. But is there such a wench?

Don F. First tell me this:

Did you not lately, as you walk'd along, Don F. 'Tis his tongue, sure.

Discover people that were arm’d, and likely Don John !

To do offence ? Don J. Don Frederick!

Don J. Yes, marry, and they urg'd it Don F. You're fairly met, sir.

(night, As far as they had spirit. Pr’ythee, tell me, whai revelations hast thou had to- Don F. Pray, go forward.

[them, That home was never thought of ?

Don J. A gentleman I found engag'd amongst Don J. Revelations!

It seems, of noble breeding, I'm sure, brave metile, I'll tell thee, Frederick : but before I tell thee, As I return'd to look you; I set into him, Settle thy understanding.

And without hurt (I thank heaven !) rescu'd him. Don F. 'Tis prepar'd, sir

Ecce signum.

(Shewing the hat. Don J. Why, then, mark what shall follow: Don F. What the devil's that, John ? This night, Frederick, this wicked night

Don J. Only the laurel I gain'd in the scuffle. Don F. I thought no less.

Don F. Bravo! then all my work is done. Don J. This blind night!

And now, to satisfy you, there is a womanWhat dost thou think I have got ?

Oh! John, there is a womanDon F. What such wanton fellows ought to get. Don J. Oh! Frederick, where is she? (you Don J. Would 'twere no worse! you talk of re- Don F. And one of no less worth than I assure velations,

And, which is more, fall'n under my protection. I have got a revelation will reveal me

Don J. I'm glad of that; forward, sweet FredeAn arrant coxcomb whilst I live.


(too, sir. Don F. What is't ?

Don F. And, which is most of all, she is at home, Thou hast lost nothing ?

Don J. Come, let's begone, sir. Don J. No, I have got, I tell thee.

Don F. Yes; but 'tis most certain, Don F. What hast thou got?

You cannot see her, sir. Don J. One of the infantry—a child.

Don J. Why? Don F. How !

Don F. She has sworn me, Don J. A chopping child, man.

That none else shall come near her; not my mother, Don F. 'Give you joy, sir!

Till some doubts are clear'd.

(she in? Don J. I'll give it you, sir, if it is joy. Frederick, Don J. Not look upon her ? What chamber is This town's abominable, that's the truth on't.

Don F. In ours. Don F. I still told you, John,

Don J. Let's go, I say: Your wenching must come home; I counselld you; A woman's oaths are wafers, break with making. But where po grace is

They must for modesty a little : we all know it. Don J. 'Tis none of mine, man.

Let's go, I say, Don F. Answer the parish so.

Don F. No, I'll assure you, sir. Don J. Cheated, in troth!

Don J. Not see her!

(rick, Peeping into a house, bv whom I know not, I smell an old dog trick of your's. Lookye! FrodeNO. 21.


You talk'd to be of wenching; let's have fair play, Anth. Why—hush, hush!
Square dealing. I would wish you.

Peter. Do you hear ?
Im F. You may depend upon it, John.

Don J. 'Tis your lute: she's playing on't Do J. Teil me,

Anth. The house is haunted, sir; And tell me true: is the cause honourable, For this we have heard this half year. Or for your pleasure ?

Don F. You saw nothing? Don'F. By all our friendship, John,

Anth. Not I. 'Tis brinest, ani of great end.

Peter. Nor I, sir. Dan J. I'm answer'd;

Don F. Get out our breakfast, then; But let me see ber though.

And make no words on't. DF. I can't

Don J. We'll undertake this spirit, if it be ene Din J. Leave the door open as you go in.

Anth. This is no deril, Peter. I den F. I dare not.

Mum! there be bats abroad. [Erit i Paris Don J. Not wide opea, but a little, very little, Dun F. Stay; now she sings. So as a jealous husband

Why didst thou shrug so ? Would level at his wanton wife through.

Either allay this beat, or, as I live, I wil ost trust Dua F. That courtesy,

Don J. Pass on; I warrant you.

(Esant If you desire no more Don J. No more.

SCENE III.- Another Chamber
Don F. And keep it strictly-
Dm J. C'pon my honor.

morning Enter First CONSTANTIA, with size Dm F. I dare afford you. Come, 'tis now near Don J. Along, along, then, dear Frederick. I Con. Thou friendly, soothing instrument ! sy



Genius has surely laid thee in my way,

That thy sweet melancholy strain might echo Peter, Nay, the old woman's gone, too.

To the sorrows of my heart, lest it, o'erburden'd, Anih. She's a caterwauling

Should, from reflection, sink into despair. Amongst the gutters: but, conceive me, Peter, To curse those stars, that men say govert 15 Where our good masters shivuld be.

To rail at fortube, to fall out with fate, Peter. Where they should be,

And tax the general world, will help me nothing: I do conceive; but where they are, good Anthony-Alas! our own desires Anth. Ay, there it goes. My master's bo-peep Are our own fates, our own stars all our fortune, with me,

Which, as we sway them, so abuse, or bless us. With his sly popping in and out again,

[Retires and sites Argued a cause

Enter Don FREDERICK. Don Josx peeping.
Peter. My saint-like Don has bired a chapel
In the corner there, for his pious uses ;

Dom F. Peace to your meditations !
Where I, against my will, watch, fast, and pray. Don J. Plague on you !
Anth. Hark!
[Lute sounds. Stand out of the light.

(Aside. Peter. What ?

I Con. I crave your mercy, sir. (aerly, Anth. Dost not hear a noise ?

My mind, o'ercharg'd with care, made me uomasAgain !-'tis a lute.

Don F. Pray you, set that mind at rest; all shall Peter. Odd! it's a late, or a drum. Where is it? be perfect. Anth. Above, in my master's chamber.

Don J. I like the person rare: a handsome per. Peter. There is no creature : he hath the key him- A wond'rous handsome body! Would she could self, man.

turn! Anth. Let him have it; this is his lute.

See, an that spiteful puppy be not got

(Singing within. Between me and my light again! Peter. I grant you ; but who strikes it?

Don F. 'Tis done ; Anih. An admirable voice, too! Hark you! As all that you command, shall be: the gentleman Peter. Anthony,

Is safely off all danger. Art sure we are at home ?

Don J. What a rare creature! (.Isile. Anth. Without all doubt, Peter,

1 Con. How shall I thank you, sir? how satisfy, Peter. Then it must be the devil.

Don F. Gentle lady, all's rewarded. Anth. Let it be.

Now does he melt like marmalade.

(laide. Good devil, sing again. Oh! dainty devil!

Don J. Nay, 'tis certain, Peter, believe it a most delicate devil!

Thou art the sweetest woman, eres e'er look'i ont The sweetest devil

Pray, heaven, thou art not honest!

(Asik. Enter Don FREDERICK and Don John.

Don F. None disturb'd you ?


! Con. Not any, sir; nor any sound came aear Don F. If you will be content with peeping? I thank your care. Don J. I will, I will.

Don F 'Tis well. Don F. Then come in softly;

Pull in your head, and be hang'd!

To Dond And, as you love your faith, presume no further Don İ. Harkye! Frederick, Than you have promis'd.

I have brought you home your pack-saddle.
Don J. Basta!

Don F. Fie upon you!
Don F. What makes you up so early, sir?
Don J. You, sir, in your contemplations ?

(To Don J.-Shuts the dar Peler. Oh! pray you, peace, sir.

1 Con. Nay, let him eater. Fie! my lord duke Anth. Hush, hush!

Stand peeping at your friends! Don F Why peace, sir ?

(Lule wunds.

Don F. You are cozen'd, lady;
Here is no duke.


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