Don J. That's a lie. Don F. And trusty, [Aside. Which nature and the liberal world make custom; And nothing but fair honour! dear honour! sweet Beyond your wishes; valiant to defend, I am not honest this way. Oh! the traitor! 1 Con. Sir, I credit you. Don F. Go, salute her, John. [Aside. Don J. Plague o' your commendations! [Aside. 1 Con. Sir, I shall now desire to be a trouble. Don J. Never to me, sweet lady. Thus I seal My faith, and all my services. [Kisses her hand. [To Don F. 1 Con. One word, signior. And whiter than the lily; and then, her eyes! Don F. 'Twas given him by that gentleman, You took such care of, his own being lost i'the scuffle. Lone, 1 Con. With much joy may he wear it! 'tis a right I can assure you, gentlemen; and right happy May he be in all fights for that noble service. Don F. Why do you blush? 1 Con. It had almost cozen'd me. For, not to lie, when I saw that, I look'd for Don J. And so am I, Frederick; but what of Don F. It shall be mended; Don F. I look for't. How now, who is't? And calls himself Petruchio. Don J. Petruchio! I'll attend him. Don J. Ay, heaven knows, that we are all evil; Yet heaven forbid we should have our deserts. What is he? 1 Con. Too, too near to my offence, sir. Oh! he will cut me piece-meal! Don F. "Tis no treason? Don J. Let it be what it will, if he cut here, I'll find him cut-work. Don F. He must buy you dear; With more than common lives. Don J. Fear not, nor weep not; Don F. How now? Why, what's the matter, Landlady? Land. What's the matter! You use me decently among you, gentlemen. I will not be thus treated, that I will not. Thou took'st me up at every word I spoke, And thou think'st, because thou canst write and read, Don F. Dare you, sirrah? [you: Anth. Let but the truth be known, sir, I beseech She raves of wenches, and I know not what, sir. Land. Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet! Thou instrument of evil! Anth. As I live, sir, she's ever thus, till dinner. Don F. Get you in, sir; I'll answer you anon. [Exit ANTHONY. Now to your grief: what is't? for I can guessLand. You may, with shame enough, Don Frederick, [on, If there were shame amongst you: nothing thought But how you may abuse my house. Don F. No more of these words; Nor no more murm'rings, woman: I did suspect your anger: But turn it presently and handsomely, And bear yourself discreetly to this lady; For such a one there is, indeed. Land. 'Tis well, sir! [melancholies, Don F. Leave off your devil's matins, and your Or we shall leave our lodgings. Land. But, mine honour- Don F. Come, your honour, Nay, then, it is decreed, though hills were set on Kissing her. She runs after him. What, will you hurt your own son? Land. Well, well! go, go to the door, there's a gentleman there would speak with you. Don J. Upon my life, Petruchio. Good, dear landlady, carry him into the dining-room, and I'll wait upon him presently. Land. Well, Don John, the time will come that I shall be even with you. Don J. I must begone about this business. Won't you go too, Frederick? [Exit. 1 Con. What, no way to divert this certain danger? Don F. Impossible! their honours are engag'd. Which, gen'rous sir, I shall no sooner hear of, Don F. It is granted. 1 Con. Your friend, sir, is, I find, too resolute, Too hot and fiery for the cause: as ever You did a virtuous deed, for honour's sake, Go with him, and allay him: your fair temper, And noble disposition, like wish'd showers, [else. May quench those eating fires, that would spoil all I see in him destruction. [ation. Don F. I will do it: and it is a wise considerI'll after him, lady. The old gentlewoman Shall wait upon you; she is discreet and secret, And you may trust her in all points. 1 Con. You are noble. Don F. And so I take my leave. I hope, lady, a happy issue for all this. 1 Con. All heaven's care upon you, and my Expunk prayers! SCENE II.-Antonio's House. Enter Surgeon and a Gentleman. Gent. What symptoms do you find in him? Surg. Nothing that he should. First, he will let no liquor down but wine; and then, he has a fancy that he must be dressed always to the tune of John Dory. Gent. How to the tune of John Dory? He brought home one; I pity her that bore it. Some rich woman (For wise I dare not call her) was the mother. For it was hung with jewels; the bearing cloth No less than crimson velvet. 1 Con. How? Land. 'Tis true, lady. 1 Con. Was it a boy, too? Land. A brave boy! 1 Con. May I see it? For there is a neighbour of mine, a gentlewoma Surg. Why, he will have fiddlers, and make I would know further of; now if you please them play and sing it to him all the while. Gent. An odd fancy, indeed! Enter ANTONIO Anto. Give me some wine. Surg. I told you so-'Tis death, sir. Anto. 'Tis a horse, sir. Dost thou think I shall recover with the help of barley-water only? Gent. Fie, Antonio, you must be governed. Anto. Why, sir, he feeds me with nothing but rotten roots, and drowned chickens, stewed pericraniums and pia-maters; and when I go to bed, (by heaven 'tis true, sir) he rolls me up in lints, with labels at them, that Í am just the man in the almanack; my head and face is in Aries' place. Surg. Will it please you to let your friends see you opened? Anto. Will it please you, sir, to give me a brimmer? I feel my body open enough for that. Give it me, or I'll die upon thy hand, and spoil thy eus tom canst thou cure me? Surg. In forty days. Anto. I'll have a dog shall lick me whole in twenty. In how long a time canst thou kill me? Surg. Presently. Anto. Do it; that's the shorter, and there's more delight in it. Gent. You must have patience. Anto. Man, I must have business; this foolish fellow hinders himself; I have a dozen rascals to hurt within these five days. Good man-mender, stop me up with parsley like stuffed beef, and let me walk abroad, and let me be dressed to that warlike tune, John Dory. Surg. You shall walk shortly. Anto. I will walk presently, sir, and leave your salads there, your green salves and your oils; I'll to my old diet again, strong food and rich wine, and see what that will do. Surg. Well, go thy ways, thou art the maddest old fellow I ever met with! [Exeunt severally. SCENE III-Don FREDERICK's lodging. Enter First CONSTANTIA and Landlady. 1 Con. I have told all I can, and more than yet These gentlemen know of me, ever trusting Your concealment-but are they such strange To be so courteous to me- [know 'em! But what do you think of these men, now you Be wise, or you may repent too late. I tell y But for your own good, and as you will find in 1 Con. I am advised. Land. No more words then; do that, Land. Within this half hour. Let's in, and then think better. up this way. Petr. So he does. Don J. Stand you still, Within that covert, till I call: You, Frederick, [PETRUCHIO and FREDERICK retire. Enter DUKE and his Party. Duke. Feed the hawks up, We'll fly no more to-day. Oh, my blest fortune, Have I so fairly met the man! Don J. You have, sir; And him you know by this. Duke. Sir, all the honour, And love [Shearing his hot. And out of hearing, I command ye: Now, sir, Be plain. Dom J. I will, and short, You have wronged a gentleman beyond all justice, Beyond the mediation of all friends. Ďuke. The man, and manner of wrong? Don J. Petruchio is the man; The wrong is, you have dishonour'd his sister. ་ Duke. Now, stay you, sir, [loved; And hear me a little. This gentleman's Don J. Sir, your pardon; And all that was my anger, now my service. [we Duke. Fair sir, I knew I should convert you; had But that rough man here now too Don J. You shall, sir. What, hoa, hoa! Duke. I hope you have laid no ambush ? [all's well. Don J. Why, the man has his mare again, and The Duke professes freely he's her husband. Don F. Tis a good hearing. Don J. Yes, for modest gentlemen; I must present you-May it please your grace, [ber [brother, Don. F. Your grace honours me. Petr. Why, this is wond'rous happy. But now, Now comes the bitter to our sweet: Constantia ! Duke. Why, what of her? Petr. Nor what, nor where do I know: [ledge, Wing'd with her fears, last night, beyond my knowShe quit my house, but whither Don. F. Let not that Enter FRANCISCO and a Man. [Exeunt. Fran. This is the maddest mischief: never fool was so fobbed off as I am, made ridiculous, and to myself mine own ass; trust a woman! I'll trust the devil first, for he dares be better than his word sometimes. Pray tell me, in what observance have I ever failed her? Man. Nay, you can tell that best yourself. Enter Don FREDERICK and Don JOHN. Don F. Constantia! what are these fellows? Stay by all means. [They listen. Man. Why, sir, I met her in that great street that comes from the market-place, just at the turning by a goldsmith's shop. Don F. Stand still, John. Man, I heard her grave conductress twattle Duke. No more, good sir, I have heard too much. something as they went along, that makes me guess it. Petr. Nay, sink not, She cannot be so lost. Don J. Nor shall not, gentlemen; Be free again, the lady's found: That smile, sir, Shows you distrust your servant. Duke. I do beseech you. [safe. Don J. You shall believe me; by my soul, she's Don J. And under noble usage: This modest gentlemanSpeak, Frederick. |