Fletcher, John George Walton Williams, ed. The Dramatic Works in the Beaumont and Fletcher Canon. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979 1617 FleChanPro Prologue. Aptnesse for mirth to all, this instant night Thalia hath prepar'd for your delight, Her choice and curious Viands, in each part, Season'd with rarities of wit, and Art; Nor feare I to be tax'd for a vaine boast, My promise will finde credit with the most, When they know Ingenuous Fletcher made it, hee Being in himselfe a perfect Comedie. And some sit here, I doubt not, dare averre, Living he made that house a Theater Which he pleas'd to frequent; and thus much we Could not but pay to his lovd memorie. For our selves we doe entreat that you would not Expect strange turnes, and windings in the Plot, Objects of State, and now and then a Rhime, To gall particular persons, with the time; Or that his towring Muse hath made her flight Nearer your apprehension then your sight: But if that sweet expression, quick conceit, Familiar language, fashion'd to the weight Of such as speake it, have the power to raise Your grace to us, with Trophies to his praise: We may professe, presuming on his skill, If his Chances please not you, our fortune's ill. ] The Chances. FleChan1.1 Enter two Serving-men, Peter and Anthony. Peter. I would we were remov'd from this Town, Anthony, That we might taste some quiet: for mine owne part, I'me almost melted with continuall trotting After enquiries, dreames, and revelations, Of who knowes whom, or where? serve wenching soldiers, That know no other Paradice but Plackets? Ile serve a Priest in Lent first, and eate Bell-ropes. Anthony. Thou art the froward'st foole = Peter. Why good tame Anthony? Tell me but this: to what end came we hither? Anthony. To wait upon our Masters. Peter. But how Anthony? Answer me that; resolve me there good Anthony? Anthony. To serve their uses. Peter. Shew your uses Anthony. Anthony. To be imploy'd in any thing. Peter. No Anthony, Not any thing I take it; nor that thing We travell to discover, like new Islands; A salt itch serve such uses; in things of moment, Concerning things, I grant yee; not things errant, Sweet Ladies things, and things to thank the surgeon: In no such things, sweet Anthony: put case = Anthony. Come, come, All will be mended: this invisible woman Of infinite report for shape and vertue, That bred us all this trouble to no purpose, They are determin'd now no more to thinke on, But fall close to their studies. Peter. Was there ever Men knowne to run mad with report before? Or wander after that they know not where To finde? or if found, how to enjoy? are mens braines Made now a dayes of Malt, that their affections Are never sober? but like drunken people Founder at every new fame? I do believe too That men in love are ever drunke, as drunken men Are ever loving. Anthony. Prethee be thou sober, And know, that they are none of those, not guilty Of the least vanity of love, onely a doubt Fame might too farre report, or rather flatter The graces of this woman, made them curious To finde the truth, which since they finde so boltted And lock'd up from their searches, they are now setled To give the wonder over. Peter. Would they were setled To give me some new shooes too: for Ile be sworne These are e'ne worne out to the reasonable soules In their good worships businesse: and some sleep Would not doe much amisse, unlesse they meane To make a Bell-man on me: and what now Meane they to study, Anthony, Morall Philosophy After their mar-all women? Anthony. Mar a fooles head. Peter. 'Twill mar two fools heads, and they take not heed, Besides the Giblets to 'em. Anthony. Will you walke Sir, And talke more out of hearing? your fooles head May chance to finde a wooden night-cap else. Peter. I never lay in any. Enter Don John and Fredrick. Anthony. Then leave your lying, And your blinde Prophesying: here they come, You had best tell them as much. Peter. I am no tell-tale. John. I would we could have seen her though: for sure She must be some rare creature, or report lyes, All mens reports too. Fredrick. I could well wish I had seen her; But since she is so conceal'd, so beyond venture Kept and preserv'd from view, so like a Paradice, Plac't where no knowledg can come near her, so guarded As't were impossible, though knowne, to reach her I have made up my beliefe. John. Hang me from this houre If I more thinke upon her, or believe her, But as she came a strong report unto me, So the next Fame shall loose her. Fredrick. 'Tis the best way: But whither are you walking? John. My old round After my meat, and then to bed. Fredrick. 'Tis healthfull. John. Will not you stir? Fredrick. I have a little businesse. John. Upon my life this Lady stil = Fredrick. Then you will loose it. John. Pray let's walke together. Fredrick. Now I cannot. John. I have something to impart. Fredrick. An houre hence I will not misse to meet you. John. Where? Fredrick. Ith' high street; For not to lye, I have a few Devotions To doe first, then I am yours. John. Remember. Exeunt [severally]. FleChan1.2 Enter Petruchio, Antonio, and two Gentlemen. Antonio. Cut his winde-pipe, I say. 1. Gentleman. Fie Antonio. Antonio. Or knock his brains out first, and then forgive him. If you doe thrust, be sure it be to th' hilts, A Surgeon may see through him. 1. Gentleman. You are too violent. 2. Gentleman. Too open, undiscreet. Petruchio. Am I not ruin'd? The honour of my house crack'd? my bloud poyson'd? My credit, and my name? 2. Gentleman. Be sure it be so, Before ye use this violence. Let not doubt, And a suspecting anger so much sway ye, Your wisedome may be question'd. Antonio. I say kill him, And then dispute the cause; cut off what may be, And what is, shall be safe. 2. Gentleman. Hang up a true man, Because 'tis possible he may be theevish: Alas, is this good Justice? Petruchio. I know as certaine, As day must come againe; as cleare as truth, And open as beliefe can lay it to me, That I am basely wrong'd, wrong'd above recompence; Malitiously abus'd, blasted for ever In name and honour, lost to all remembrance, But what is smear'd, and shamefull; I must kill him, Necessitie compells me. 1. Gentleman. But think better. Petruchio. There is no other cure left: yet witnesse with me All that is faire in man, all that is noble, I am not greedy of this life I seek for, Nor thirst to shed mans bloud; and would 'twere possible, I wish it with my soule, so much I tremble To offend the sacred Image of my Maker, My sword could onely kill his crimes: no 'tis honour, Honour, my noble friends, that idoll honour, That all the world now worships, not Petruchio Must doe this justice. Antonio. Let it once be done, And 'tis no matter, whether you, or honour, Or both be accessarie. 2. Gentleman. Doe you weigh Petruchio The value of the person, power, and greatnesse, And what this sparke may kindle? Petruchio. To performe it, So much I am ty'd to reputation, And credit of my house, let it raise wild-fires, That all this Dukedome smoak, and stormes that tosse me Into the waves of everlasting ruine, Yet I must through; if yee dare side me = Antonio. Dare? Petruchio. Ye're friends indeed; if not = 2. Gentleman. Here's none flies from you, Doe it in what designe ye please, wee'll back ye. Petruchio. But then be sure yee kill him. 2. Gentleman. Is the cause So mortall, nothing but his life = Petruchio. Beleeve me, A lesse offence has been the desolation Of a whole name. 1. Gentleman. No other way to purge it? Petruchio. There is, but never to be hoped for. 2. Gentleman. Thinke an houre more, And if then ye finde no safer road to guide yee, Wee'll set up our rests too. Antonio. Mine's up already, And hang him for my part, goes lesse than life. 2. Gentleman. If we see noble cause, 'tis like our swords May be as free and forward as your words. Exeunt. FleChan1.3 Enter Don John. John. The civill order of this Towne Bellonia Makes it belov'd, and honour'd of all travellers, As a most safe retirement in all troubles; Beside the wholsome seat, and noble temper Of those mindes that inhabit it, safely wise, And to all strangers vertuous: But I see My admiration has drawne night upon me, And longer to expect my friend may pull me Into suspition of too late a stirrer, Which all good Governments are jealous of. Ile home, and thinke at liberty: yet certaine, 'Tis not so farre night as I thought; for see, A faire house yet stands open, yet all about it Are close, and no lights stirring: there may be foule play: Ile venture to look in: if there be knaves, I may doe a good office. Woman(within). Signieur? John What? how is this? Woman(within). Signieur Fabritio? John Ile goe nearer. Woman(within). Fabritio? John. This is a woman tongue, here may be good done. Woman(within). Who's there? Fabritio? John. I. Woman(within). Where are ye? John. Here. Woman(within). O come, for heavens sake! John I must see what this meanes. Enter Woman with a childe. Woman. I have stay'd this long houre for you, make no noise, For things are in strange trouble: here, be secret, [Gives childe.] 'Tis worth your care; begone now; more eyes watch us, Then may be for our safeties. John. Harke ye? Woman. Peace: good night. [Exit.] John. She is gone, and I am loaden; fortune for me; It weighes well, and it feeles well; it may chance To be some pack of worth: by th' masse 'tis heavie; If it be Coyne or Jewels, 'tis worth welcome: Ile ne're refuse a fortune: I am confident 'Tis of no common price: now to my lodging: If it hit right, Ile blesse this night Exit. Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. 'Tis strange, I cannot meet him; sure he has encountred Some light o' love or other, and there meanes To play at In and In for this night. Well Don John, If you doe spring a leak, or get an itch, Til ye claw off your curl'd pate, thank your night-walks: You must be still a bootehalling: one round more, Though it be late, Ile venture to discover ye, I doe not like your out-leaps. [Exit.] FleChan1.4 Enter Duke, and three Gentlemen. Duke. Welcome to Towne, are ye all fit? 1. Gentleman. To point Sir. Duke. Where are the horses? 2. Gentleman. Where they were appointed. Duke. Be private, and whatsoever fortune Offer it selfe, let's stand sure. 3. Gentleman. Feare not us, 'Ere ye shall be endangered, or deluded, Wee'll make a black night on't. Duke. No more, I know it; You know your Quarters? 1. Gentleman. Will you goe alone sir? Duke. Ye shall not be farre from me, the least noise Shall bring ye to my rescue. 2. Gentleman. We are counsell'd. Exeunt. FleChan1.5 Enter Don John [with the childe]. John. Was ever man so paid for being curious? Ever so bob'd for searching out adventures, As I am? did the devill lead me? must I needs be peeping Into mens houses where I had no businesse, And make my selfe a mischiefe? 'Tis well carried; I must take other mens occasions on me, And be I know not whom: most finely handled: What have I got by this now? What's the purchase? A piece of evening Arras worke, a childe, Indeed an Infidell: this comes of peeping: A lumpe got out of lazinesse: = good white bread, Let's have no bawling with yee: = 'sdeath, have I Knowne Wenches thus long, all the wayes of wenches, Their snares and subtilties? have I read over All their Schoole learnings, div'd into their quiddits, And am I now bum-fidled with a Bastard? Fetch'd over with a Carde of five, and in mine old dayes, After the dire massacre of a million Of Maiden-heads? caught the common way, ith' night too Under anothers name, to make the matter Carry more weight about it? well Don John, You will be wiser one day, when ye have purchas'd A beavy of these Butter prints together, With searching out conceal'd iniquities, Without commission: Why, it would never grieve me, If I had got this Ginger-bread: never stirr'd me, So I had had a stroak for't: 't had been Justice Then to have kept it; but to raise a dayrie For other mens adulteries, consume my selfe in caudles, And scowring works, in Nurses, Bells and Babies, Onely for charity, for meere I thank you, A little troubles me: the least touch for it, Had but my breeches got it, had contented me. Whose e're it is, sure't had a wealthy mother, For 'tis well cloathed, and if I be not cozen'd, Well lin'd within: to leave it here were barbarous, And ten to one would kill it: a more sin Then his that got it: well, I will dispose on't, And keep it, as they keep deaths heads in rings, To cry, memento to me; no more peeping. Now all the danger is to qualifie The good old gentlewoman, at whose house we live, For she will fall upon me with a Catechisme Of foure houres long: I must endure all; For I will know this mother: = Come good wonder, Let you and I be jogging: your starv'd trebble Will waken the rude watch else: = All that bee Curious night-walkers, may they finde my fee. Exit. FleChan1.6 Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. Sure hee's home: I have beaten all the purlewes, But cannot bolt him: if he be a bobbing 'Tis not my care can cure him: To morrow morning I shall have further knowledge from a Surgeons = Where he lyes moord, to mend his leaks. Enter Constantia. Constantia. I'me ready, And through a world of dangers am flown to yee. Be full of haste and care, we are undone else: Where are your people? which way must we travell? For heaven sake stay not here sir. Fredrick What may this prove? Constantia Alas I am mistaken, lost, undone. For ever perish'd = Sir, for heaven sake tell me, Are ye a Gentleman? Fredrick. I am. Constantia. Of this place? Fredrick. No, borne in Spain. Constantia. As ever you lov'd honour, As ever your desires may gaine their ends, Doe a poore wretched woman but this benefit, For I am forc'd to trust yee. Fredrick. Y'ave charm'd me, Humanity and honour bids me helpe ye; And if I faile your trust = Constantia. The time's too dangerous To stay your protestations: I beleeve ye, Alas, I must believe ye: From this place, Good noble Sir, remove me instantly, And for a time, where nothing but your selfe, And honest conversation may come neare me, In some secure place settle me. What I am, And why thus boldly I commit my credit Into a strangers hand, the feares and dangers That force me to this wilde course, at more leisure I shall reveale unto you. Fredrick. Come, be hearty, He must strike through my life that takes ye from me. Exeunt. FleChan1.7 Enter Petruchio, Antonio and two Gentlemen. Petruchio. He will sure come. Are yee well arm'd? Antonio. Never feare us. Here's that will make 'em dance without a Fiddle. Petruchio. We are to look for no weak foes, my friends, Nor unadvised ones. Antonio. Best gamsters make the best game, We shall fight close and handsome then. 1. Gentleman. Antonio, You are a thought too bloudy. Antonio. Why? all Physitians And penny Almanacks allow the opening Of veines this moneth: why doe ye talke of bloudy? What come we for, to fall to cuffes for apples? What, would ye make the cause a Cudgell quarell? On what termes stands this man? is not his honour Open'd to his hand, and pickt out like an Oyster? His credit like a quart pot knockt together, Able to hold no liquor? cleare but this point. Petruchio. Speak softly, gentle Couzen. Antonio. Ile speak truely; What should men doe ally'd to these disgraces? Lick o're his enemie, sit downe, and dance him? 2. Gentleman. You are as farre o'th' bow hand now. Antonio. And crie, That's my fine boy, thou wilt doe so no more, child. Petruchio. Here are no such cold pitties. Antonio. By Saint Jaques They shall not finde me one: here's old tough Andrew, A speciall friend of mine, and he but hold, Ile strike 'em such a horne-pipe: knocks I come for, And the best bloud I light on; I profes it, Not to scarre Coster-mongers; If I loose mine owne, Mine audits cast, and fare-well five and fifty. Petruchio. Let's talke no longer, place your selves with silence, As I directed yee; and when time calls us, As ye are friends, so shew your selves. Antonio. So be it. Exeunt. FleChan1.8 Enter Don John[with the childe] and his Land-Lady. Land-Lady. Nay Son, if this be your regard = John. Good mother = Land-Lady. Good me no goods; your Cozen, and your self Are welcome to me, whilst you beare your selves Like honest and true Gentlemen: Bring hither To my house, that have ever been reputed A gentlewoman of a decent, and faire carriage, And so behav'd my self = John. I know ye have. Land-Lady. Bring hither, as I say, to make my name Stinke in my neighbours nostrills, your Devises, Your Brats, got out of Alligant, and broken oathes? Your Linsey Woolsey worke, your hasty puddings? I foster up your filch'd iniquities? Y'are deceiv'd in me, Sir, I am none Of those receivers. John. Have I not sworne unto you, 'Tis none of mine, and shew'd you how I found it? Land-Lady. Ye found an easie foole that let you get it, She had better have worne pasternes. John. Will yee heare me? Land-Lady. Oathes? what doe you care for oathes to gaine your ends, When ye are high and pamper'd? What Saint know ye? Or what Religion, but your purpos'd lewdnesse, Is to be look'd for of ye? nay, I will tell ye, You will then sweare like accus'd Cut-purses, As far of truth too; and lye beyond all Faulconers: I'me sick to see this dealing. John. Heaven forbid Mother. Land-Lady. Nay, I am very sick. John. Who waits there? Anthony(within). Sir. John. Bring down the bottle of Canary wine. Land-Lady. Exceeding sick, heav'n helpe me. John. Haste ye sirrah. [Aside] I must ev'n make her drunk: = nay gentle mother. Land-Lady. Now fie upon ye, was it for this purpose You fetch'd your evening walks for your digestions, For this pretended holinesse? no weather, Not before day could hold ye from the Matins. Were these your bo-peep prayers? ye 'have praid well, And with a learned zeale: watcht well too; your Saint It seems was pleas'd as well: = still sicker, sicker. Enter Anthony with a bottle of wine. John There is no talking to her till I have drencht her. = Give me: = here mother take a good round draught, 'Twill purge spleen from your spirits: deeper mother. Land-Lady. I, I, sonne; you imagine this will mend all. John. All y'faith Mother. Land-Lady. I confesse the Wine Will doe his part. John. Ile pledge ye. Land-Lady. But sonne John = John. I know your meaning mother, touch it once more; Alas you look not well, take a round draught; It warmes the bloud well, and restores the colour, And then wee'll talke at large. Land-Lady. A civill gentleman? A stranger? one the Town holds a good regard of? John Nay I will silence thee. Land-Lady. One that should weigh his faire name? oh, a stich! John. There's nothing better for a stitch, good mother, Make no spare of it, as you love your health, Mince not the matter. Land-Lady. As I said, a gentleman, Lodge in my house? now heav'ns my comfort, signior! John I look'd for this. Land-Lady. I did not thinke you would have us'd me thus; A woman of my credit: one, heaven knowes, That lov'd you but too tenderly. John. Deare mother, I ever found your kindnesse, and acknowlegde it. Land-Lady. No, no, I am a fool to counsell yee. Where's the infant? Come, lets see your Workmanship. John. None of mine, Mother. But there 'tis, and a lusty one. [Gives childe.] Land-Lady. Heaven blesse thee, Thou hadst a hasty making; but the best is, 'Tis many a good mans fortune: = as I live Your owne eyes Signior, and the nether lip As like yee, as ye had spit it. John. I am glad on't. Land-Lady. Blesse me, what things are these? John. I thought my labour Was not all lost, 'tis gold, and these are jewels, Both rich, and right I hope. Land-Lady. Well, well sonne John, I see ye are a wood-man, and can chuse Your Deere, though it be i'th darke; all your discretion Is not yet lost; this was well clapt aboard: Here I am with you now; when as they say Your pleasure comes with profit; when ye must needs do, Doe where ye may be done to, 'tis a wisedome Becomes a young man well; be sure of one thing, Loose not your labour and your time together, It seasons of a foole, sonne; time is pretious, Worke wary whilst ye have it: since ye must traffick Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold Signior, Trade with no broken Merchants, make your lading, As your would make your rest, adventurously, But with advantage ever. John. All this time mother, The childe wants looking too, wants meat and Nurses. Land-Lady. Now blessing o' thy care; it shall have all, And instantly; Ile seek a Nurse my selfe, sonne; 'Tis a sweet childe: = ah my young Spaniard = Take you no further care sir. John. Yes of these Jewels, I must by your leave Mother: these are yours, To make your care the stronger: for the rest Ile finde a Master; the gold for bringing up on't, I freely render to your charge. Land-Lady. No more words, Nor no more children, (good sonne) as you love me: This may doe well. John. I shall observe your Morals. But where's Don Fredrick (Mother)? Land-Lady. Ten to one About the like adventure: he told me, He was to finde you out. Exit[with childe and Anthony]. John. Why should he stay thus? There may be some ill chance in't: sleep I will not, Before I have found him: now this woman's pleas'd, Ile seek my friend out, and my care is eas'd. Exit. FleChan1.9 Enter Duke and Gentlemen. 1. Genlteman. Beleeve sir, 'tis as possible to doe it, As to remove the city; the maine faction, Swarm through the streets like hornets, arm'd with angers Able to ruine States: no safety left us, Nor meanes to dye like men, if instantly You draw not back againe. Duke. May he be drawne And quarter'd too, that turnes now; were I surer Of death then thou art of thy fears, and with death More then those feares are too = 1. Gentleman. Sir, I feare not. Duke. I would not crack my vow, start from my honour, Because I may finde danger; wound my soule, To keep my body safe. 1. Gentleman. I speak not sir, Out of a basenesse to you. Duke. No, nor doe not Out of a basenesse leave me: what is danger, More then the weaknesse of our apprehensions? A poor cold part o' the bloud? who takes it hold of? Cowards, and wicked livers: valiant mindes Were made the Masters of it: and as hearty Seamen In desperate stormes, stem with a little Rudder The tumbling ruines of the Ocean, So with their cause and swords do they do dangers. Say we were sure to dye all in this venture, As I am confident against it: is there any Amongst us of so fat a sense, so pamper'd, Would chuse luxuriously to lye a bed, And purge away his spirit, send his soule out In Sugar-sops, and Syrups? give me dying, As dying ought to be, upon mine enemy, Parting with man-kinde, by a man that's manly: Let 'em be all the world, and bring along Cain's envy with 'em, I will on. 2. Gentleman. You may sir, But with what safety? 1. Gentleman. Since 'tis come to dying, You shall perceive sir, here be those amongst us Can dye as decently as other men, And with as little ceremony: on brave sir. Duke. That's spoken heartily. 1. Gentleman. And he that flinches May he dye lowzie in a ditch. Duke. No more dying, There's no such danger in it: what's a clock? 3. Gentleman. Somewhat above your houre. Duke. Away then quickly, Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us. Exeunt. Enter Fredericke, and Peter, (with a candle). Fredrick. Give me the candle: so goe you out that way. Peter. What have we now to doe? Fredrick. And o' your life sirrah, Let none come neare the doore without my knowledge, No not my Landlady, nor my friend. Peter. 'Tis done sir. Fredrick. Nor any serious businesse that concerns me. Peter. Is the winde there agen? Fredrick. Be gone. Peter. I am sir. Exit. Fredrick. Now enter without feare. Enter Constantia with a Jewell. And noble Lady That safety and civility yee wish'd for Shall truely here attend you: no rude tongue Nor rough behaviour knows this place, no wishes Beyond the moderation of a man, Dare enter here: your owne desires and Innocence, Joyn'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect you, Were dangers more then doubts. Constantia. Ye are truely noble, And worth a womans trust: let it become me, (I doe beseech you sir) for all your kindnesse, To render with my thanks, this worthlesse trifle; I may be longer troublesome. [Offers a jewell.] Fredrick. Faire offices Are still their owne rewards: Heav'n blesse me Lady From selling civill courtesies: may it please ye, If ye will force a favour to oblige me, Draw but the cloud aside, to satisfie me For what good Angel I am engag'd. Constantia. It shall be. For I am truely confident yee are honest: The Piece is scarce worth looking on. [Draws her veil.] Fredrick. Trust me The abstract of all beauty, soule of sweetnesse = [Aside] Defend me honest thoughts, I shall grow wilde else: What eyes are there, rather what little heavens, To stirre mens contemplations? what a Paradice Runs through each part she has? good bloud be temperate: I must look off: too excellent an object Confounds the sense that sees it. = Noble Lady, IF there be any further service to cast on me, Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye, Or the engagement of whole Families. Constantia. Your service is too liberall, worthy sir, Thus farre I shall entreat = Fredrick. Command me Lady. You make your power too poore. Constantia. That presently With all convenient haste, you would retire Unto the street you found me in. Fredrick. 'Tis done. Constantia. There, if you finde a gentleman opprest With force and violence, doe a mans office, And draw your sword to rescue him. Fredrick. Hee's safe, Be what he will, and let his foes be devills, Arm'd with your pitty, I shall conjure 'em. Retire, this key will guide ye: all things necessary Are there before ye. Constantia. All my prayers goe with ye. Fredrick. Ye clap on proof upon me: = Exit[Constantia]. men say gold Do's all, engages all, works through all dangers: Now I say beauty can do more: The Kings Exchequer, Nor all his wealthy Indies, could not draw me Through halfe those miseries this peece of pleasure Might make me leap into: we are all like sea-Cards, All our endeavours and our motions, (As they doe to the North) still point at beauty, Still at the fairest: for a handsome woman, (Setting my soule aside) it should goe hard, But I would straine my body: yet to her, Unlesse it be her owne free gratitude, Hopes ye shall dye, and thou tongue rot within me, E're I infringe my faith: now to my rescue. Exit. FleChan2.1 Enter Duke, pursued by Petruchio, Antonio, and that Faction. Duke. You will not all oppresse me? Antonio. Kill him ith' wanton eye: let me come to him. Duke. Then yee shall buy me dearely. Petruchio. Say you so sir? Antonio. I say cut his Wezand, spoile his peeping: = Have at your love-sick heart sir. Enter Don John. John. Sure 'tis fighting. My friend may be engag'd: = fie gentlemen, This is unmanly oddes. Antonio. Ile stop your mouth sir. Duke fals down, Don John bestrides him. John. Nay, then have at thee freely: Ther's a plumb sir to satisfie your longing. Petruchio. Away: I hope I have sped him: here comes rescue. We shall be endangered: where's Antonio? Antonio. I must have one thrust more sir. John. Come up to me. [Wounds Antonio.] Antonio. A mischiefe confound your fingers. Petruchio. How is't? Antonio. Well: Ha's giv'n me my quietus est, I felt him In my small guts, I'me sure, has feez'd me: This comes of siding with ye. 2. Gentleman. Can you goe sir? Antonio. I should goe man, and my head were of, Never talke of going. Petruchio. Come, all shall be well then. I heare more rescue comming. Enter the Dukes Faction. Antonio. Let's turne back then; My skull's uncloven yet, let me but kill. Petruchio. Away for heaven sake with him. [Exeunt Petruchio, Antonia, and that Faction]. John. How is't? Duke. Well sir, Onely a little stagger'd. Men of the Dukes Faction. Lets pursue 'em Duke. No not a man, I charge ye: = thanks good coat, Thou hast sav'd me a shrewd welcome: 'twas put home too, With a good minde I'me sure on't. John. Are ye safe then? Duke. My thanks to you brave sir, whose timely valour, And manly courtesie came to my rescue. John. Ye 'had foule play offer'd ye, and shame befall him That can passe by oppression. Duke. May I crave sir, But thus much honour more, to know your name? And him I am so bound to? John. For the Bond sir, 'Tis every good mans tye: to know me further Will little profit ye; I am a stranger, My Countrey Spaine; my name Don John, a gentleman That lyes here for my study. Duke. I have heard Sir, Much worthy mention of ye, yet I finde Fame short of what ye are. John. You are pleas'd sir, To expresse your courtesie: may I demand As freely what you are, and what mischance Cast you into this danger? Duke. For this present I must desire your pardon: you shall know me Ere it be long sir, and a nobler thanks, Then now my will can render. John. Your will's your owne sir. Duke. What is't you look for sir, have yee lost any thing? John. Onely my hat i'th scuffle; sure these fellowes Were night-snaps. Duke. No, believe sir: pray ye use mine, For 'twil be hard to finde your owne now. John. No sir. Duke. Indeed ye shall, I can command another: I doe beseech ye honour me. [Gives his hat.] John. I will sir, And so Ile take my leave. Duke. Within these few dayes I hope I shall be happy in your knowledge. Till when I love your memory. John. I yours. Exit Duke, with his Faction. This is some noble fellow. Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. 'Tis his tongue sure. = Don John? John. Don Fredrick? Fredrick. Ye 'are fairely met sir: I thought ye had been a Bat-fowling: prethee tell me, What Revelations hast thou had to night, That home was never thought of? John. Revelations? Ile tell thee Fredrick: but before I tell thee, Settle thy understanding. Fredrick. 'Tis prepar'd, sir. John. Why then mark what shall follow. This night Fredrick This bawdy night = Fredrick. I thought no lesse. John. This blinde night, What dost think I have got? Fredrick. The Pox it may be. John. Would 'twere no worse: ye talke of Revelations, I have got a Revelation will reveale me, An arrant Coxcombe while I live. Fredrick. What is't? Thou has lost nothing? John. No, I have got I tell thee. Fredrick. What hast thou got? John. One of the infantry, a childe. Fredrick. How? John. A chopping child, man. Fredrick. 'Give ye joy, sir. John. A lump of lewdnesse Fredrick, that's the truth on't: This Town's abominable. Fredrick. I still told ye John Your whoring must come home; I counsell'd ye: But where no grace is = John. 'Tis none o' mine, man. Fredrick. Answer the Parish so. John. Cheated in troth, Peeping into a house, by whom I know not, Nor where to find the place agen: no Fredricke, Had I but kist the ring fort; 'tis no poor one, That's my best comfort, for't has brought about it Enough to make it man. Fredrick. Where is't? John. At home. Fredrick. A saving voyage: But what will you say Signior, To him that searching out your serious Worship, Has met a stranger fortune? John. How, good Frederick? A militant girle now to this boy would hit it? Fredrick. No, mine's nobler venture: What do you think Sir Of a distressed Lady, one whose beauty Would oversell all Italy? John.: Where is she = Fredrick. A woman of that rare behavior, So qualified, as admiration Dwels round about her: of that perfect spirit = John. I, marry Sir. Fredrick. That admirable carriage, That sweetnes in discourse; young as the morning, Her blushes staining his. John. But where's this Creature? Shew me but that. Fredrick. That's all one, shee's forth comming, I have her sure Boy. John. Harke ye Fredrick. What truck betwixt my infant? Fredrick. 'Tis too light Sir, Stick to your charges good Don John, I am well. John. But is there such a wench? Fredrick. First tell me this, Did ye not lately as ye walk'd along, Discover people that were arm'd, and likely To doe offence? John. Yes mary, and they urg'd it As far as they had spirit. Fredrick. Pray goe forward. John. A Gentleman I found ingag'd amongst e'm It seems of noble breeding, I'm sure brave mettall, As I return'd to looke you; I set in to him; And without hurt (I thanke heaven) rescued him, And came my selfe off safe too. Fredrick My work's done then: = And now to satisfie you, there is a woman, Oh John, there is a woman = John. Oh, where is she? Fredrick. And one of no lesse worth then I assure ye; And which is more, falne under my protection. John. I am glad of that: forward sweet Fredrick. Fredrick. And which is more then that, by this nights wandring, And which is most of all, she is at home too Sir. John. Come, lets be gone then. Fredrick. Yes, but 'tis most certaine, You cannot see her, John. John. Why? Fredrick. She has sworne me That none else shall come neare her: not my Mother Till some few doubts are clear'd. John. Not look upon her? What chamber is she in? Fredrick. In ours. John. Let's goe I say: A womans oathes are wafers, breake with making, They must for modestie a litle: we all know it. Fredrick. No, I'le assure you Sir. John. Not see her? I smell an old dogtrick of yours, well Fredrick, Ye talkt to me of whoring, let's have faire play, Square dealing I would wish ye. Fredrick. When 'tis come, Which I know never will be, to that issue, Your spoone shall be as deep as mine Sir. John. Tell me, And tell me true, is the cause honourable, Or for your ease? Fredrick. By all our friendship, John, 'Tis honest, and of great end. John. I am answer'd: But let me see her though: leave the doore open As yee goe in. Fredrick. I dare not. John. Not wide open, But just so, as a jealous husband Would levell at his wanton wife through. Fredrick. That courtesie, If ye desire no more, and keep it strictly, I dare afford yee: come, 'tis now neare morning. Exeunt. FleChan2.2 Enter Peter and Anthony. Peter. Nay, the old woman's gone too. Anthony. Shee's a Catterwauling Among the gutters: But conceive me, Peter, Where our good Masters should be? Peter. Where they should be, I doe conceive, but where they are, good Anthony = Anthony. I, there it goes: my Masters bo-peep with me, With his slye popping in and out agen, Argued a cause, a frippery cause. Peter. Beleeve me, They bear up with some carvell. Anthony. I doe believe thee, For thou hast such a Master for that chase, That till he spend his maine Mast = Peter. Pray remember Your courtesie good Anthony; and withall, How long 'tis since your Master sprung a leak, He had a sound one since he came. Lute sounds within. Anthony. Harke. Peter. What? Anthony. Doest not hear a Lute? Agen? Peter. Where is't? Anthony. Above in my Masters chamber. Peter. There's no creature: He hath the key himself man. Anthony. This is his Lute: Let him have it. Peter. I grant you; but who strikes it? Constantia within. Sing within a little. Mercilesse Love, whom nature hath deny'd The use of eyes, lest thou should'st take a pride And glorie in thy murthers: why am I That never yet transgress'd thy deity, Never broke vow, from whose eyes never flew Disdainfull dart, whose hard heart never slew, Thus ill rewarded? thou art young and faire, Thy Mother soft and gentle as the air, Thy holy fire still burning, blown with praier. Then everlasting Love restraine thy will 'Tis God-like to have power but not to kill. Anthony. An admirable voice too, harke ye. Peter. Anthony. Art sure we are at home? Anthony. Without all doubt, Peter. Peter. Then this must be the Devill. Anthony. Let it be. Sing agen. Good Devill sing againe: O dainty devill, Peter believe it, a most delicate devill, The sweetest Devill = Enter Fredrick and Don John [wearing the Duke's hat]. Fredrick. If ye could leave peeping = John. I cannot by no meanes. Fredrick. Then come in softly, And as ye love your faith, presume no further Then yee have promised. John. Basta. Fredrick. What make you up so early sir? John. You sir in your contemplations? Peter. O pray ye peace sir. Fredrick. Why peace sir? Peter. Doe you heare? John. 'Tis your Lute. Fredrick. Pray yee speak softly. [Aside to John] She's playing on't. Anthony. The house is haunted sir, For this we have heard this halfe yeare. Fredrick. Ye saw nothing? Anthony. Not I. Peter. Nor I Sir. Fredrick. Get us our breakfast then, And make no words on't; wee'll undertake this spirit, If it be one. Sing. Anthony. This is no devill Peter. Mum, there be Bats abroad. Exeunt Servants. Fredrick. Stay, now she sings. John. An Angels voice Ile sweare. Fredrick. Why did'st thou shrug so? Either allay this heat; or as I live I will not trust ye. John. Passe: I warrant ye. Exeunt. FleChan2.3 Enter Constantia. Constantia. To curse those starres, that men say governe us, To raile at fortune, fall out with my Fate, And taske the generall world, will helpe me nothing: Alas, I am the same still, neither are they Subject to helpes, or hurts: Our owne desires Are our own fates, our owne stars, all our fortunes, Which as we sway 'em, so abuse, or blesse us. Enter Fredrick. Don John [wearing the Duke's hat] peeping [at the doore]. Fredrick. Peace to your meditations. John Pox upon ye, Stand out oth' light. Constantia. I crave your mercy sir, My minde o're-charg'd with care made me unmannerly. Fredrick. Pray yee set that minde at rest, all shall be perfect. John I like the body rare; a handsome body, A wondrous handsome body: would she would turne: See, and that spightfull puppy be not got Between me and my light againe. Fredrick. Tis done, As all that you command shall bee: the gentleman Is safely off all danger. John O de dios. Constantia. How shall I thank ye sir? how satisfie? Fredrick. Speak softly, gentle Lady, all's rewarded. [Aside] Now does he melt like Marmalad. John Nay, 'tis certaine, Thou art the sweetest woman I e're look'd on: I hope thou art not honest. Fredrick. None disturb'd yee? Constantia. Not any sir, nor any sound came neare me, I thank your care. Fredrick. 'Tis well. John I would faine pray now, But the Devill and that flesh there o' the world, What are we made to suffer? Fredrick Hee'll enter; [To John] Pull in your head and be hang'd. John Harke ye Fredricke, I have brought ye home your Pack-saddle. Fredrick Pox upon yee. Constantia. Nay let him enter:[to John]fie my Lord the Duke, Stand peeping at your friends? Fredrick. Ye are cozen'd Lady, Here is no Duke. Constantia. I know him full well Signior. John Hold thee there wench. Fredrick This mad-brain'd foole will spoile all. Constantia. I doe beseech your grace come in. John My Grace, There was a word of comfort. Fredrick. Shall he enter, Who e're he be? John Well follow'd Fredrick. Constantia. With all my heart. Fredrick. Come in then. Enter Don John. John. 'Blesse yee Lady. Fredrick. Nay start not, though he be a stranger to ye, Hee's of a Noble straine, my kinsman, Lady, My Countrey-man, and fellow Traveller, One bed containes us ever, one purse feeds us, And one faith free between us; do not fear him, Hee's truely honest. John That's a lye. Fredrick. And trusty Beyond your wishes: Valiant to defend, And modest to converse with as your blushes. John Now may I hang my self; this commendation Has broke the neck of all my hopes: for now Must I cry, no forsooth, and I forsooth, and surely, And truely as I live, and as I am honest. Has done these things for 'nonce too; for hee knowes, Like a most envious Rascall as he is, I am not honest, nor desire to be, Especially this way: h'as watch'd his time, But I shall quit him. Constantia. Sir, I credit ye. Fredrick. Goe kisse her John. John Plague o' your commendations. Constantia. Sir, I shall now desire to be a trouble. John. Never to me, sweet Lady: Thus I seale My faith, and all my service. Constantia. One word Signeur. [She talks with Fredrick apart.] John. Now 'tis impossible I should be honest; She kisses with a conjuration Would make the devill dance: what points she at? My leg I warrant, or my well knit body: Sit fast Don Fredrick. Fredrick. 'Twas given him by that gentleman You took such care of; his own being lost ith' scuffle. Constantia. With much joy may he weare it:[to John] 'tis a right one I can assure ye Gentleman, and right happy May you be in all fights for that faire service. Fredrick. Why doe ye blush? Constantia. 'T had almost cozen'd me, For not to lye, when I saw that, I look'd for Another Master of it: but 'tis well. Knock within. Fredrick. Who's there? Stand ye a little close: = Exit Constantia. Come in Sir, Enter Anthony. Now what's the news with you? Anthony. There is a gentleman without, Would speak with Don John. John. Who sir? Anthony. I do not know Sir, but he shews a man Of no meane reckoning. Fredrick. Let him shew his name, And then return a little wiser. Anthony. Well Sir Exit Anthony. Fredrick. How doe you like her John? John. As well as you Fredrick, For all I am honest: you shall finde it so too. Fredrick. Art thou not honest? John. Art thou not an Asse? And modest as her blushes? What block-head Would e're have popt out such a dry Apologie, For his deare friend? and to a Gentlewoman, A woman of her youth, and delicacy, They are arguments to draw them to abhorre us. An honest morall man; 'tis for a Constable: A handsome man, a wholsome man, a tough man, A liberall man, a likely man, a man Made up like Hercules, unslak'd with service; The same to night, to morrow night, the next night, And so to perpetuitie of pleasures: These had been things to hearken too, things catching: But you have such a spiced consideration, Such qualmes upon your worships conscience, Such chil-blaines in your bloud, that all things pinch ye, Which nature, and the liberall world makes custome, And nothing but faire honour, O sweet honour: Hang up your Eunuch honour: That I was trusty, And valiant, were things well put in; But modest! A modest gentleman! o wit where wast thou? Fredrick. I am sorrie John. John. My Ladies gentlewoman Would laugh me to a School-boy, make me blush With playing with my Codpeece point: fie on thee, A man of thy discretion? Fredrick. It shall be mended: And henceforth yee shall have your due. John. I look fort: Enter Anthony. How now, who is't? Anthony. A gentleman of this towne And calls himselfe Petruchio. John. Ile attend him. [Exit Anthony.] Enter Constantia. Constantia. How did he call himselfe? Fredrick. Petruchio, Doe's it concerne you ought? Constantia. O gentlemen, The houre of my destruction is come on me, I am discover'd, lost, left to my ruine: As ever ye had pitty = [Kneels.] John. Doe not feare, Let the great devill come, he shall come through me: Lost here, and we about ye? Fredrick. Fall before us? Constantia. O my unfortunate estate, all angers Compar'd to his, to his = Fredrick. Let his, and all mens, Whilst we have power and life: = stand up for heaven sake. [She rises.] Constantia. I have offended heaven too; yet heaven knows = John. We are all evill: Yet heaven forbid we should have our deserts. What is a? Constantia. Too too neare to my offence sir; O he will cut me peece-meale. Fredrick. 'Tis no Treason? John. Let it be what it will: if a cut here, Ile find him cut-worke. Fredrick. He must buy you deare, With more than common lives. John. Feare not, nor weep not: By heaven Ile fire the Towne before yee perish; And then, the more the merrier, wee'll jog with yee. Fredrick. Come in, and dry your eyes. John. Pray no more weeping: Spoile a sweet face for nothing? my returne Shall end all this I warrant you. Constantia. Heaven grant it. Exeunt. FleChan2.4 Enter Petruchio with a Letter. Petruchio. This man should be of speciall rank: for these commends Carry no common way, no slight worth with 'em: Enter Don John. A shall be he. John. 'Save yee sir: I am sorrie My businesse was so unmannerly, to make ye Wait thus long here. Petruchio. Occasions must be serv'd sir: But is your name Don John? John. It is Sir. Petruchio. Then, First, for your owne brave sake I must embrace yee: Next, from the credit of your noble friend Hernando de Alvara, make yee mine: Who layes his charge upon me in this Letter To look yee out, and for the goodnesse in yee, Whilst your occasions make yee resident In this place, to supply yee, love and honour yee; Which had I knowne sooner = John. Noble sir, You'll make my thanks too poore: I weare a sword, sir, And have a service to be still dispos'd of, As you shall please command it. Petruchio. Gentle sir, That manly courtesie is half my businesse: And to be short, to make ye know I honour ye, And in all points believe your worth like Oracle, And how above my friends, which are not few, And those not slack, I estimate your vertues, Make your selfe understand: This day Petruchio, A man that may command the strength of this place, Hazzard the boldest spirits, hath made choice Onely of you, and in a noble office. John. Forward, I am free to entertaine it. Petruchio. Thus then: I doe beseech ye mark me. John. I shall doe it. Petruchio. Ferrara's Duke, would I might call him worthie, But that he has raz'd out from his family, As he has mine with Infamie, This man, Rather this powerfull Monster, we being left But two of all our house, to stock our memories, My Sister, and my selfe; with arts, and witch-craft, Vowes, and such oathes heaven has no mercy for, Drew to dishonour this weak maid: by stealthes, And secret passages I knew not of, Oft he obrain'd his wishes, oft abus'd her: I am asham'd to say the rest: This purchas'd, And his hot bloud allay'd, as friends forsake us At a miles end upon our way, he left her, And all our name to ruine. John. This was foule Play, And ought to be rewarded so. Petruchio. I hope so; He scap'd me yester-night: which if he dare Againe adventure for, heaven pardon him, I shall with all my heart. John. For me, brave Signior, What doe yee intend? Petruchio. Onely, faire sir, this trust, Which from the commendations of this Letter, I dare presume well placed, nobly to beare him By word of mouth a single challenge from me, That man to man, if he have honour in him, We may decide all difference. John. Faire, and noble, And I will doe it home: When shall I visite ye? Petruchio. Please you this after-noon, I will ride with yee; For at a Castle six mile hence, we are sure To finde him. John. Ile be ready. Petruchio. To attend ye, My man shall wait: with all my love. John. My service shall not faile yee. Exit Petruchio Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. How now? John. All's well: who dost thou think this wench is? Ghesse, and thou canst? Fredrick. I cannot. John. Be it knowne then, To all men by these presents, this is she, She, she, and only she, our curious coxcombs Were errant two moneths after. Fredrick. Who, Constantia? Thou talk'st of Cocks and Bulls. John. I talke of wenches, Of Cocks and Hens Don Fredrick; this is the Pullet We two went proud after. Fredrick. It cannot be. John. It shall be; Sister to Don Petruchio: I know all man. Fredrick. Now I beleeve. John. Goe to, there has been stirring, Fumbling with linnen Frederick. Fredrick. 'Tis impossible, You know her fame was pure as fire. John. That pure fire Has melted out her maiden-head: she is crackt: We have all that hope of our side, boy. Fredrick. Thou tell'st me, To my imagination, things incredible: I see no loose thought in her. John. That's all one, She is loose ith' hilts by heaven: but the world Must know a faire way, upon vow of marriage. Fredrick. There may be such a slip. John. And will be Fredrick, Whil'st the old game's afoot: I feare the boy too Will prove hers I took up. Fredrick. Good circumstance May cure all this yet. John. There thou hitst it, Fredrick: Come, let's walke in and comfort her: her being here Is nothing yet suspected: anon Ile tell thee Wherefore her brother came, who by this light Is a brave noble fellow, and what honour H'as done to me a stranger: there be Irons Heating for some, will hisse into their heart blouds, 'Ere all be ended; so much for this time. Fredrick. Well Sir. Exeunt. FleChan3.1 Enter Land-lady and Peter. Land-lady. Come ye doe know. Peter I do not by this hand Mistris. But I suspect. Land-lady. What? Peter. That if egges continue At this price, women wil ne're be sav'd By their good works. Land-lady. I will know. [ Peter. Yee shall, any thing Lyes in my power: The Duke of Loraine now Is seven thousand strong: I heard it of a fish-wife, A woman of fine knowledge. Land-lady. Sirrah, sirrah. Peter. The Popes Buls are broke loose too, and 'tis suspected They shall be baited in England. Land-lady. Very well sir. Peter. No, 'tis not so well neither. ] Land-lady. But I say to yee, Who is it keeps your Master company? Peter. I say to you, Don John. Land-lady. I say what woman? Peter. I say so too. Land-lady. I say againe, I will know. Peter. I say 'tis fit yee should. Land-lady. And I tell thee He has a woman here. Peter. And I tell thee 'Tis then the better for him. Land-lady. You are no Bawd now? Peter. Would I were able to be call'd unto it: A worshipfull vocation for my elders; For as I understand it is a place Fitting my betters farr. Land-lady. Was ever Gentlewoman So frumpt off with a foole? well sawcy sirrah, I will know who it is, and for what purpose; I pay the rent, and I will know how my house Comes by these inflamations: if this geere hold, Best hang a signe-post up, to tell the Signiors, Here ye may have lewdnesse at Liverie. Peter. 'Twould be a great ease to your age. Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. How now? Why what's the mater Land-lady? Land-lady. What's the matter? Ye use me decently among ye gentlemen. Fredrick. Who has abus'd her, you sir? Land-lady. 'Ods my witnesse I will not be thus treated, that I will not. Peter. I gave her no ill language. Land-lady. Thou lyest lewdly, Thou tokkst me up at every work I spoke, As I had been a Mawkin, a flurt Gillian; And thou thinkst, because thou canst write and read, Our noses must be under thee. Fredrick. Dare you sirrah? Peter. Let but the truth be known Sir, I beseech ye, She raves of wenches, and I know not what sir. Land-lady. Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet, Thou instrument of evill. Peter. As I live Sir, She is ever thus till dinner. Fredrick. Get ye in, Ile answer you anon sir. Peter By this hand Ile break your possit pan. Land-lady Then by this hood Ile lock the meat up. Exit [Peter]. Fredrick. Now your grief, what is't? For I can ghesse = Land-lady. Ye may with shame enough, If theer were shame amongst yee; nothing thought on, But how yee may abuse my house: not satisfi'd With bringing home your Bastards to undoe me, But you must drill your whores here too; my patience (Because I beare, and beare, and carry all, And as they say am willing to groan under) Must be your make-sport now. Fredrick. No more of these words, Nor no more murmurings Lady: for you know That I know something. I did suspect your anger, But turne it presently and handsomely, And beare your selfe discreetly to this woman, For such a one there is indeed = Land-lady. 'Tis well sonne. Fredrick. Leaving your devils Matins, and your melanchollies, Or we shall leave our lodgings. Land-lady. You have much need To use these vagrant wayes, and to much profit: Ye had that might content (At home within your selves too) right good gentlemen, Wholsome, and yee said handsome: But you gallants, Beast that I was to beleeve ye = Fredrick. Leave your suspicion: For as I live there's no such thing. Land-lady. Mine honour; And 'twere not for mine honour = Fredrick. Come, your honour, Your house, and you too, if you dare beleeve me, Are well enough: sleek up your self, leave crying, For I must have yee entertain this Lady With all civility, she well deserves it, Together with all secresie: I dare trust yee, For I have found yee faithfull: when you know her You will find your owne fault; no more words, but doe it. Land-lady. You know you may command me, Enter don John. John. Worshipfull Lady, How does thy Velvet scabbard? by this hand Thou look'st most amiably: now could I willingly And 'twere not for abusing thy Geneva print there, Venture my body with thee. Land.lady. You'll leave this roperie, When you come to my yeares. John. By this light Thou art not above fifteen yet, a meere girle, Thou hast not half thy teeth: come = Fredrick. Prethee John Let her alone, she has been vex'd already: Shee'll grow starke mad, man. John. I would see her mad, An old mad woman = Fredrick. Prethee be patient. John. Is like a Millers Mare, troubled with tooth-ache. Shee'll make the rarest faces. Fredrick. Goe, and doe it, And doe not mind this fellow. Land-lady. Well Don John. There will be times agen; when O good Mother, What's good for a carnosity in the Bladder? O the green water, mother. John. Doting take yee, Doe ye remember that? Fredrick. She has payd ye now sir. Land-lady. Clarry, sweet mother, Clarry. Fredrick. Are ye satisfied? Land-lady. Ile never whore againe; never give Petticoats And Wastcoats at five pound a peece; good Mother, Quickly Mother: now mock on Son. John. A devill grinde your old chaps. Fredrick. By this hand wench Ile give thee a new hood for this. Exit Land-lady. Has she met with your Lordship? John. Touch-wood rake her. Shee's a rare ghostly mother. Enter Anthony. Anthony. Below attends yee The Gentlemans man sir that was with yee. John. Well Sir;[Exit Anthony.] My time is come then: yet if my project hold, You shall not stay behinde: Ile rather trust A Cat with sweet milk Fredrick. Enter Constantia. By her face I feele her feares are working. Constantia. Is there no way, I doe beseech yee think yet, to divert This certaine danger? Fredrick. 'Tis impossible: Their honours are engag'd. Constantia. Then there must be murther, Which, Gentlemen, I shall no sooner heare of, Then make one in't: you may, if you please sir, Make all goe lesse yet. John. Lady wer't mine owne cause, I could dispence: but loaden with my friends trust, I must go on; though generall massacres As much I feare = Constantia. Doe ye heare sir; for heavens pittie Let me request one love of you. Fredrick. Yes any thing. Constantia. This gentleman I find too resolute, Too hot, and fiery for the cause: as ever You did a vertuous deed, for honours sake Go with him, and allay him: your fair temper And noble disposition, like wish'd showres, May quench those eating fires, that would spoile all else. I see in him destruction. Fredrick. I will doe it; And 'tis a wise consideration, To me, a bounteous favour: = harke ye John, I will goe with yee. John. No. Fredrick. Indeed I will, Ye goe upon a hazzard: no denyall; For as I live, Ile goe. John. Then make ye ready For I am straight a horse-back. Fredrick. My sword on, I am as ready as you: = what my best labour, With all the Art I have can work upon 'em, Be sure of, and expect faire end: the old gentlewoman Shall wait upon you; she is both grave and private, And yee may trust her in all points. Constantia. Ye are noble. Fredrick. And so I kisse your hand. John. That seale for me too, And I hope happy issue Lady. Constantia. All heavens care upon yee, and my prayers. John. So, now my mind's at rest. Fredrick. Away, 'tis late John. Exeunt[severally]. FleChan3.2 Enter Antonio, a Surgeon, and two Gentlemen. 1. Gentleman. Come sir, be hearty: all the worst is past. Antonio. Give me some Wine. Surgeon. 'Tis death Sir. Antonio. 'Tis a horse sir. 'Sbloud, to be drest to the tune of Ale onely, Nothing but sawces to my sores. 2. Gentleman. Fie Antonio, You must be govern'd. Antonio. Has given me a dam'd Glister, Only of sand and snow water, gentlemen, Has almost scour'd my guts out. Surgeon. I have giv'n you that sir Is fittest for your state. Antonio. And here he feeds me With rotten ends of rooks, and drown'd chickens, Stewd Pericraniums, and Pia-maters; And when I goe to bed, by heaven 'tis true gentlemen, He rolls me up in Lints, with Labels at 'em, That I am just the man ith' Almanack, In head and face, is Aries place. Surgeon. Wilt please ye To let your friends see ye open'd? Antonio. Will it please you sir To let me have a wench: I feele my body Open enough for that yet? Surgeon. How, a wench? Antonio. Why look yee gentlemen; thus I am us'd still, I can get nothng that I want. 1. Gentleman. Leave these things, And let him open ye. Antonio. Doe 'ye heare Surgeon? Send for the Musick, let me have some pleasure To entertaine my friends, beside your Sallads, Your green salves, and your searches; and some wine too, That I may onely smell to it: or by this light Ile dye upon thy hand, and spoyle the custome. 1. Gentleman. Let him have Musick. Surgeon. 'Tis ith' house, and ready, Enter Servant with wine[and Musicians]. If he will aske no more: but wine = Musick. 2. Gentleman. He shall not drink it. Surgeon. Will these things please yee? Antonio. Yes, and let 'em sing John Dorrie. 2. Gentleman. 'Tis too long. Antonio. Ile have John Dorrie, For to that warlike tune I will be open'd. Give me some drinke: = have yee stopt the leakes well Surgeon? All will runne out else. Surgeon. Feare not. Antonio. Sit downe Gentlemen: And now advance your plaisters. Song of John Dorry. Give 'em ten shillings friends: [Exeunt Musicians.] how doe ye finde me? What Symptomes doe you see now? Surgeon. None Sir, dangerous: But if you will be rul'd = Antonio. What time? Surgeon. I can cure ye In forty dayes, so you will not transgresse me. Antonio. I have a dog shall lick me whole in twenty: In how long canst thou kill me? Surgeon. Presently. Antonio. Doe it; there's more delight in't. 1. Gentleman. You must have patience. Antonio. Man, I must have busines; this foolish fellow Hinders himselfe: I have a dozen Rascalls To hurt within these five dayes: good man-mender, Stop me up with Parsley, like stuft beefe, And let me walke abroad = Surgeon. Ye shall walke shortly. Antonio. For I must finde Petruchio. 2. Gentleman. Time enough. 1. Gentleman. Come lead him in, and let him sleep: within these three dayes Wee'll beg yee leave to play. 2. Gentleman. And then how things fall, Wee'll certainly informe yee. Antonio. But Surgion promise me I shall drinke Wine then too. Surgeon. A little temper'd. Antonio. Nay, Ile no tempering Surgion. Surgeon. Well, as't please ye, So ye exceed not. Antonio. Farewell: and if ye finde The Mad slave, that thus slasht me, commend me to him, And bid him keep his skin close. 1. Gentleman. Take your rest sir. Exeunt. FleChan3.3 Enter Constantia, and Land-lady. Constantia. I have told yee all I can, and more then yet Those Gentlemen know of me; ever trusting Your Councell and concealement: for to me You seem a worthy woman; one of those Are seldome found in our sex, wise and vertuous, Direct me I beseech ye. Land-lady. Ye say well Lady, And hold yee to that poynt; for in these businesses A womans councell that conceives the matter, (Doe ye marke me, that conceives the matter Lady) Is worth ten mens engagements: She knows something, And out of that can worke like wax: when men Are giddy-headed, either out of wine, Or a more drunkennesse, vaine ostentation, Discovering all, there is no more keep in 'em, Then hold upon an Eeles taile: 'tis held fashion To defame now all they can. Constantia. I, but these gentlemen = Land-lady. Doe not you trust to that: these gentlemen Are as all Gentlemen of the same Barrell: I, and the selfe same pickle too. Be it granted, They have us'd yee with respect and faire behaviour, Yet since ye came: doe you know what must follow? They are Spaniards, Lady, Gennets of high mettle, Things that will thrash the devill, or his dam, Let 'em appeare but cloven = Constantia. Now heaven blesse me. Land-lady. Mad Colts will court the wind: I know 'em Lady To the least haire they have; and I tell you, Old as I am, let but the pinte pot blesse 'em, They'll offer to my yeares = Constantia. How? Land-lady. Such rude gambolls = Constantia. To you? Land-lady. I, and so handle me, that oft I am forc'd To fight of all foure for my safety: there's the yonger, Don John, the arrantst Jack in all this City: The other, time has blasted, yet he will stoop, If not ore-flowne, and freely on the quarry; Has been a Dragon in his dayes. But Tarmont, Don Jenkin is the Devill himselfe, the Dog-dayes, The most incomprehensible whore-master, Twenty a night is nothing: Beggers, Broom-women, And those so miserable, they look like famine, Are all sweet Ladies in his drink. Constantia. He's a handsome Gentleman. Pitty he should be master of such follies. Land-lady. Hee's ne're without a noise of Sirrenges In's pocket, those proclame him; birding pill; Waters to coole his conscience, in small Viols; With thousand such sufficient emblemes: the truth is, Whose chastity he chops upon, he cares not. He flies at all; Bastards upon my conscience, He has now in making multitudes; The last night He brought home one; I pitty her that bore it, But we are all weake vessels, some rich woman (For wife I dare not call her) was the mother, For it was hung with Jewels; the bearing cloath No lesse then Crimson Velvet. Constantia. How? Land-lady. 'Tis true Lady. Constantia. Was it a Boy too? Land-lady. A brave boy; deliberation And judgement shewd in's getting, as I'le say for him, He's as well paced for that sport = Constantia. May I see it? For there is a neighbour of mine, a Gentlewoman, Has had a late mischance, which willingly I would know further of; now if you please To be so curteous to me = Land-lady. Ye shall see it: But what do ye thinke of these men now ye know 'em, And of the cause I told ye of? Be wise, Ye may repent too late else; I but tell ye For your owne good, and as you will find it Lady. Constantia. I am advis'd. Land-lady. No more words then; do that, And instantly, I told ye of, be ready: = Don John, Ile fit ye for your frumps. Constantia. I shall be: But shall I see this Child? Land-lady. Within this halfe houre, Let's in, and there thinke better; she that's wise, Leapes at occasion first; the rest pay for it. Exeunt. FleChan3.4 Enter Petruchio, Don John, and Fredrick. John. Sir, he is worth your knowledg; and a Gentleman If I that so much love him, may commend him, Of free and vertuous parts; and one, if foule play Should fall upon us, for which feare I brought him, Will not flie backe for phillips. Petruchio. Ye much honour me, And once more I pronounce ye both mine. Fredrick. Stay, What Troope is that below i'th valley there? John. Hawking I take it. Petruchio. They are so; 'Tis the Duke, 'tis even he Gentlemen: = Sirrah, draw backe the Horses till we call ye. = I know him by his company. Fredrick. I thinke too He bends up this way. Petruchio. So he does. John. Stand you still Within that Covert till I call: you Fredrick, By no meanes be not seen, unlesse they offer To bring on odds upon us; he comes forward, Here will I waite him fairely; to your Cabins. Petruchio. I need no more instruct ye? John. Feare me not, I'le give it him, and boldly. Exeunt Petruchio and Fredrick. Enter Duke and his faction. Duke. Feed the Hawkes up. Wee'l flie no more to day: = O my blest fortune, Have I so fairely met the man! John. Ye have Sir, And him you know by this. [Points to his hat.] Duke. Sir all the honour, And love = John. I do beseech your Grace stay there, (For I know you too now): that love and honour I come not to receive; nor can you give it, Till ye appeare faire to the world; I must beseech ye Dismisse your traine a little. Duke. Walke aside, And out of hearing I command ye: = [Exeunt his faction.] Now Sir. John. Last time we met, I was a friend. Duke. And Nobly You did a friends office: let your businesse Be what it may, you must be still = John. Your pardon, Never a friend to him, cannot be friend To his own honour. Duke. In what have I transgress'd it? Ye make a bold breach at the first Sir. John. Bolder You made that breach that let in infamy And ruine, to surprize a noble stocke. Duke. Be plaine Sir. John. I will, and short; ye have wrong'd a Gentleman Little behind your selfe, beyond all justice, Beyond the mediation of all friends. Duke. The man, and manner of wrong? John. Petruchio, The wrong, ye have whord his Sister. Duke. What's his will in't? John. His will is to oppose you like a Gentleman, And single, to decide all. Duke. Now stay you Sir, And heare me with the like beliefe: this Gentleman His Sister that you named, 'tis true I have long loved, Nor was that love lascivious, as he makes it; As true, I have enjoy'd her: no lesse truth I have a child by her: But that she, or he, Or any of that family are tainted, Suffer disgrace, or ruine, by my pleasures, I weare a Sword to satisfie the world no, And him in this cause when he please; for know sir, She is my wife, contracted before Heaven, (Witnesse I owe more tye to, then her Brother) Nor will I flye from that name, which long since Had had the Churches approbation, But for his jealous danger. John. Sir, your pardon, And all that was my anger, now my service. Duke. Faire sir, I knew I should convert ye; had we But that rough man here now too = John. And ye shall Sir: Whoa, hoa, hoo. Duke. I hope ye have laid no Ambush? John. Only friends. Enter Pertruchio. Duke. My noble Brother welcome: Come put your Anger off, we'l have no fighting, Unlesse you will maintaine I am unworthy To beare that name. Petruchio. Do you speake this hartely? Duke. Upon my soule, and truly; the first Priest Shall put you out of these doubts. Petruchio. Now I love ye; And I beseech you pardon my suspitions, You are now more then a Brother, a brave friend too. John. The good man's over-joy'd. Enter Fredrick. Fredrick. How now, how goes it? John. Why, the man 'has his mare agen, and all's well Fredrick, The Duke professes freely hee's her husband. Fredrick. 'Tis a good hearing. John Yes for modest Gentlemen. = I must present ye: = may it please your Grace To number this brave Gentleman, my friend And noble kinsman, amongst those your servants. Duke. O my brave friend! you showre your bounties on me. Amongst my best thoughts Signior, in which number You being worthily dispos'd already, May place your friend to honour me. Fredrick. My love sir, And where your Grace dares trust me, all service. Petruchio. Why? this is wondrous happy: But now Brother, Now comes the bitter to our sweet: Constantia = Duke. Why, what of her? Petruchio. Nor what, nor where, do I know: Wing'd with her feares last night, beyond my knowledge, She quit my house, but whether = Fredrick. Let not that = Duke. No more good Sir, I have heard too much. Petruchio. Nay sinke not, She cannot be so lost. John. Nor shall not Gentlemen; Be free agen, the Ladie's found; that smile Sir, Shewes ye distrust your Servant. Duke. I do beseech ye. John. Ye shall beleeve me: by my soule she is safe. Duke. Heaven knows, I would beleeve Sir. Fredrick. Ye may safely. John. And under noble usage: this faire Gentleman Met her in all her doubts last night, and to his guard (Her feares being strong upon her) she gave her person, Who waited on her, to our lodging; where all respect, Civill and honest service now attend her. Petruchio. Ye may beleeve now. Duke. Yes, I do, and strongly: Well my good friends, or rather my good Angels, For ye have both preserved me; when these vertues Dye in your friends remembrance = John. Good your grace Lose no more time in complement, 'tis too pretious, I know it by my selfe, there can be no hell To his that hangs upon his hopes; especially In way of lustly pleasures. Petruchio. He has hit it. Fredrick. To horse againe then, for this night I'le crowne With all the joyes ye wish for. Petruchio. Happy Gentlemen. Exeunt. FleChan3.5 Enter Francisco. Francisco. This is the maddest mischiefe: never foole Was so fubd off, as I am; made ridiculous, And to my selfe, mine owne Asse: trust a woman, I'le trust the Devill first; for he dare be Better then's word sometime: what have I broke? In what observance failed? Let me consider, For this is monstrous usage. Enter Don John, and Fredrick. Fredrick. Let them talke, Wee'll ride on faire and softly. Francisco. Well Constantia = Fredrick Constantia, What's this fellow? stay by all means. Francisco. Ye have spun your selfe a faire thred now. Fredrick Stand still John. Francisco. What cause had you to fly? what feare possest ye? Were you not safely lodg'd from all suspition? Us'd with all gentle meanes? did any know How ye came thether, or what your sin was? Fredrick John. I smell some juggling John. John Yes, Fredrick, I feare it will be found so. Francisco. So strangely, Without the counsell of your friends; so desperatly To put all dangers on ye? Fredrick 'Tis she. Francisco. So deceitfully After a strangers lure? John Did ye marke that Fredrick? Francisco. To make ye appeare more monster; and the Law More cruell to reward ye? to leave all, All that should be your safeguard, to seeke evils? Was this your wisedome? this your promise? well He that incited ye = Fredrick Marke that too John Yes Sir. Francisco. 'Had better have plough'd farther off; now Lady, What will your last friend, he that should preserve ye, And hold your credit up, the brave Antonio, Thinke of this slip? he'll to Petruchio, And call for open justice. John 'Tis she Fredrick. Fredrick But what that he is John = Francisco. I do not doubt yet To bolt ye out, for I know certainly Ye are about the Towne still: ha, no more words. Exit. Fredrick. Well. John. Very well. Fredrick. Discreetly. John. Finely carried. Fredrick. You have no more of these tricks? John. Ten to one Sir, I shall meet with 'em if ye have Fredrick. Is this honest? John. Was it in you a friends part to deale double? I am no asse Don Fredrick. Fredrick. And Don John, It shall appeare I am no foole; disgrace me To make yourselfe a lecher? 'tis boyish, 'tis base. John. 'Tis false, and most unmanly to upbraid me, Nor will I be your bolster Sir. Fredrick. Thou wanton boy, thou hadst better have been Eunuch, Thou common womans curtesie, then thus Lascivious, basely to have bent mine honour. A friend? I'le make a horse my friend first! John. Holla, holla, Ye kicke to fast sir: what strange braines have you got, That dare crow out thus bravely? I better been a Eunuch? I privy to this dog tricke? cleare your selfe, For I know where the wind sits, and most nobly, Or as I have a life = A noyse within like horses. Fredrick. No more: they'r horses. Nor shew no discontent: to morrow comes; Let's quietly away: if she be at home, Our jealousies are put off. John. The fellow We have lost him in our spleenes, like fooles. Enter Duke, Petruchio. Duke. Come Gentlemen, Now set on roundly: suppose ye have all mistresses, And mend your pace according. Petruchio. Then have at ye. Exeunt. FleChan4.1 Enter Duke, Petruchio, Fredrick, and John. Petruchio. Now to Bollonia, my most honoured brother, I dare pronounce ye a hearty, and safe welcome, Our loves shall now way-lay ye; welcome Gentlemen. John. The same to you brave Sir; = Don Fredrick Will ye step in, and give the Lady notice Who comes to honour her? Petruchio. Bid her be suddain, We come to see no curious wench: a night-gowne Will serve the turne: here's one that knowes her neerer. Fredrick. I'le tell her what ye say Sir. Exit Fredrick. Duke. My deare brother, Ye are a merry Gentleman. Petruchio. Now will the sport be To observe her alterations; how like wildfire She'll leap into your bosome; then seeing me, Her conscience, and her feares creeping upon her Dead as a fowle at souse, she'll sinke. Duke. Faire brother, I must entreat you = Petruchio. I conceive your mind Sir, I will not chide her: yet ten duckets Duke, She falls upon her knees, ten more she dare not = Duke. I must not have her frighted. Petruchio. Well you shall not: But like a summers evening against heate, Marke how I'le guild her cheekes? Enter Fredrick and Peter. John. How now. Duke. Ye may Sir. Fredrick. Not to abuse your patience, noble friends, Nor hold ye off with tedious circumstance, For you must know = Petruchio. What? Duke. Where is she? Fredrick. Gone Sir. Duke. How? Petruchio. What did you say Sir? Fredrick. Gone, by heaven, removed, The woman of the house too. John. Well Don Fredrick. Fredrick. Don John, it is not well, but = Petruchio. Gone? Fredrick. This fellow Can testifie I lye not. Peter. Some foure houres after My Master was departed with this Gentleman, My fellow and my selfe, being sent of businesse, As we must thinke, of purpose = Petruchio. Hang these circumstances, They appeare like owles, to ill ends. John Now could I eate The devil in his own broath, I am so tortur'd. = Gone? Petruchio. Gone? Fredrick. Directly gone, fled, shifted: What would you have me say? Duke. Well Gentlemen, Wrong not my good opinion. Fredrick. For your Dukedome I will not be a knave Sir. John. He that is A rot run in his bloud. Petruchio. But harke ye Gentlemen, Are ye sure ye had her here, did ye not dreame this? John. Have you your nose Sir? Petruchio. Yes Sir. John. Then we had her. Petruchio. Since you are so short, beleeve your having her Shall suffer more construction. John. Let it suffer, But if I be not cleere of all dishonour, Or practice that may taint my reputation, And ignorant of where this woman is, Make me your Cities monster. Duke. I beleeve ye. John I could lye with a witch now, to be reveng'd Upon that Rascall did this. Fredrick. Only thus much I would desire your Grace, for my minde gives me Before night yet she is yours: stop all opinion, And let no anger out, till full cause call it, Then every mans owne work's to justifie him, And this day let us give to search: my man here Tels me, by chance he saw out of a window (Which place he has taken note of) such a face As our old Landladies, he beleeves the same too, And by her hood assures it: Let's first thether, For she being found, all's ended. Duke. Come, for heavens sake; And Fortune, and thou beest not ever turning, If there be one firme step in all thy reelings, Now settle it, and save my hopes: away friends. Exeunt. FleChan4.2 Enter Antonio and his Servant. Antonio. With all my jewels? Servant. All Sir. Antonio. And that money I left i'th' trunke? Servant. The Trunke broke, and that gone too. Antonio. Franscisco of the plot? Servant. Gone with the wench too. Antonio. The mighty poxe go with 'em: belike they thought I was no man of this world, and those trifles Would but disturbe my conscience. Servant. Sure they thought Sir, You would not live to persecute 'em. Antonio. Whore and Fidler, Why, what a consort have they made? Hen and bacon? Well my sweet Mistris, well good Madame martaile? You that have hung about my neck, and lick't me, I'le try how handsomely your Ladyship Can hang upon a Gallowes, there's your Master-piece; = But harke ye Sirrah, no imagination Of where they should be? Servant. None Sir, yet we have search'd All places we suspected; I beleeve Sir, They have taken towards the Ports. Antonio. Get me a conjurer, One that can raise a water devill, I'le port 'em; = Play at duck and drake with my money? take heed Fidler; I'le dance ye by this hand; your Fidle-sticke I'le grease of a new fashion, for presuming To medle with my degamboys: = get me a Conjurer, Enquire me out a man that lets out devils: = None but my C. Cliffe serve your turne? Servant. I know not = Antonio. In every street, Tom foole; any bleare-eyd people With red heads, and flat noses can performe it; Thou shalt know 'em by their half gowns and no breeches: = Mount my mare Fidler? ha boy? up at first dash? Sit sure, I'le clap a nettle, and a smart one, Shall make your filly firck: I will fine Fidler, I'le put you to your plundge boy: = Sirrah meet me Some two houres hence at home; In the meane time Find out a conjurer and know his price, How he will let his devils by the day out, I'le have 'em, and they be above ground. Exit Antonio. Servant. Now Blesse me, What a mad man is this? I must do something To please his humour: such a man I'le aske for, And tell him where he is: but to come neare him, Or have any thing to do with his don devills, I thanke my feare, I dare not, nor I will not. Exit. FleChan4.3 Enter Duke, Petruchio, Fredrick, John, Peter, [and at another doore a] Servant with bottles. Fredrick. Whether wilt thou lead us? Peter. 'Tis hard by Sir. And ten to one this wine goes thether. [Exit Servant.] Duke. Forward. Petruchio. Are they growne so merry? Duke. 'Tis most likely She has heard of this good fortune, and determines To wash her sorrowes off. Peter. 'Tis so; that house sir Is it: out of that window certainly I saw my old Mistrisses face. [Laughing within.] Petrucio. They are merry indeed, Musicke. Harke I here Musicke too. Duke. Excellent Musick. John Would I were ev'n among 'em and alone now, A pallat for the purpose in a corner, And good rich wine within me; what gay sport Could I make in an houre now? Song. Fredrick. Harke a voice too; Let's not stir yet by any meanes. Sing within. Welcome sweet liberty, and care farewell, I am mine own, She is twice damn'd, that lives in Hell, When Heaven is shown. Budding beauty, blooming years Were made for pleasure, farewell feares, For now I am selfe, mine own command, My fortune alwayes in my hand. John. Was this her own voyce? Duke. Yes sure. Frederick. 'Tis a rare one. Duke. The Song confirmes her here too: for if ye marke it, It spake of liberty, and free enjoying The happy end of pleasure. Enter Bawd (above). Peter. Looke ye there sir, Do you know that head? Fredrick. 'Tis my good Landlady, I find feare has done all this. John. Shee I sweare, And now do I know by the hanging of her hood, She is parcell drunke: shall we go in? [Exit Bawd.] Duke. Not yet Sir. Petruchio. No, let 'em take their pleasure. Duke. When it is highest, Wee'll step in, and amaze 'em: Musicke. peace more Musicke. John This Musick murders me; what bloud have I now? Enter Francisco. Fredrick. I should know that face. John. By this light 'tis he Fredrick, That bred our first suspitions, the same fellow. Fredrick. He that we overtooke, and overheard too Discoursing of Constantia. John. Still the same; Now he slips in. Exit [Francisco]. Duke. What's that? Fredrick. She must be here Sir: This is the very fellow, I told your Grace We found upon the way; and what his talke was. Enter[above] Francisco. Petruchio. Why, sure I know this fellow; yes, 'tis he, Francisco, Antonio's Boy, a rare Musitian, He taught my Sister on the Lute, and is ever (She loves his voice so well) about her: certaine, Without all doubt she is here: it must be so. John. Here? that's no question: what should our hen o'th game else Do here without her? if she be not here (I am so confident) let your Grace beleeve, We two are arrant Rascalls, and have abus'd ye. Fredrick. I say so too. [Enter Bawd above.] John. Why there's the hood againe now, The card that guides us; I know the fabricke of it. And know the old tree of that saddle yet, 'twas made of; A hunting hood, observe it. [Exit Bawd with Francisco.] Duke. Who shall enter? Petruchio. I'le make one. John. I, another. Duke. But so carry it, That all her joyes flow not together. John. If we told her, Your Grace would none of her? Duke. By no meanes Signior, 'Twould turne her wild, starke frantick. John. Or assur'd her = Duke. Nothing of that sterne nature. This ye may sir: That the conditions of our feare yet stand On nyce and dangerous knittings: or that a little I seeme to doubt the child. John. Would I could draw her To hate your Grace with these things. Petruchio. Come let's enter. = [Aside] And now he sees me not, I'le search her soundly. Exeunt Petruchio and John. Duke. Now lucke of all sides. Musick. Fredrick. Doubt it not: more Musicke: Sure she had heard some comfort. Duke. Yes, stand still sir. Fredrick. This is the maddest song. Duke. Applyed for certaine To some strange mellancholly she is loden with Claping of a doore. Fredrick. Now all the sport begins = harke? Duke. They are amongst 'em, The fears now, and the shakings? Trampling above. Fredrick. Our old Lady (Harke how they run) is even now at this instant Cease Musick. Ready to loose her head peice by Don John, Or creeping through a Cat hole. Petruchio(within). Bring 'em downe, And you sir, follow me. Duke. Hee's angry with 'em, I must not suffer this. John(within). Bowle downe the Bawd there Old Erra mater: you Lady leachery For the good will I beare to'th game, most tenderly Shall be lead out, and lash'd. Enter Petruchio, John, Whore, and Bawd, with Francisco. Duke. Is this Constantia? Why Gentlemen? what do you meane? is this she? Whore. I am Constantia sir. Duke. A Whore ye are sir. Whore. 'Tis very true: I am a Whore indeed sir. Petruchio. She will not lye yet, though she steale. Whore. A plaine whore, If you please to imploy me. Duke. And an impudent = Whore. Plaine dealing now is impudence. One, if you will sir, can shew ye as much sport In one halfe houre, and with as much variety, As a far wiser woman can in halfe a yeare: For there my way lies. Duke. Is she not drunk too? Whore. A little guilded o're sir, Old sack, old sacke boyes. Petruchio. This is valiant. John. A brave bold queane. Duke. Is this your certainty? Do ye know the man ye wrong thus, Gentlemen? Is this the woman meant? Fredrick. No. Duke. That your Landlady? John. I know not what to say. Duke. Am I a person To be your sport Gentlemen? John. I do beleeve now certaine I am a knave; but how, or when = Duke. What are you? Petruchio. Bawd to this peece of pye meat. Bawd. A poore Gentlewoman That lyes in Towne, about Law businesse, And't like your worships. Petruchio. You shall have Law, beleeve it. Bawd. I'le shew your mastership my case. Petruchio. By no meanes, I had rather see a Custard. Bawd. My dead husband Left it even thus sir. John. Blesse mine eyes from blasting, I was never so frighted with a case. Bawd. And so sir = Petruchio. Enough, put up good velvet head. Duke. What are you two now, By your owne free confessions? Fredrick. What you shall thinke us; Though to my selfe I am certaine, and my life Shall make that good and perfect, or fall with it. John. We are sure of nothing (Fredrick) that's the truth on't: I do not think my nam's Don John, nor dare not Beleeve any thing that concernes me, but my debts, Nor those in way of payment: = things are so carried, What to entreat your Grace, or how to tell ye We are, or we are not, is past by cunning, But I would faine imagine we are honest, And o' my conscience, I should fight in't = Duke. Thus then, For we may be all abus'd. Petruchio. 'Tis possible, For how should this concerne them? Duke. Here let's part = Until to morrow this time: we to our way, To make this doubt out, and you to your way; Pawning our honours then to meet againe, When if she be not found = Fredrick. We stand engaged To answer any worthy way we are cald to. Duke. We aske no more. Whore. Ye have done with us then? Petruchio. No Dame. Duke. But is her name Constantia? Petruchio. Yes a moveable Belonging to a friend of mine: = come out Fidler, What say you to this Lady? be not fearfull. Francisco. Saving the reverence of my Masters pleasure, I say she is a whore, and that she has robb'd him, Hoping his hurts would kill him. Whore. Who provok't me? Nay sirrah squeak, Ile see your treble strings Ty'd up too; If I hang, Ile spoyle your piping, Your sweet face shall not save yee. Petruchio. Thou dam'd impudence, And thou dry'd devill; where's the Officer? Enter Officer. Peter. Hee's here sir. Petruchio. Lodge these safe, till I send for 'em; Let none come to 'em nor no noise be heard Of where they are, or why: away. [Exit Officer with Bawd, Francisco, and Whore.] John By this hand. A handsome whore: Now will I be arrested, And brought home to this officers: a stout whore, I love such stirring ware: pox o' this businesse, A man must hunt out morsells for another, And starve himself: a quick-ey'd whore, that's wild-fire, And makes the bloud dance through the veines like billowes. I will reprive this whore. Duke. Well, good luck with ye. Fredrick. As much attend your Grace. Petruchio. To morrow certaine = John. If we out-live this night sir. [Exeunt Duke and Petruchio.] Fredrick. Come Don John, We have something now to doe. John. I am sure I would have. Fredrick. If she be not found, we must fight. John. I am glad on't, I have not fought a great while. Fredrick. If we dye = John. Ther's so much money sav'd in lecherie. Exeunt. FleChan5.1 Enter Duke, Petruchio below, and Vechio above. Duke. It should be here abouts. Petruchio. Your grace is right, This is the house I know it. Vechio Grace? Duke. 'Tis further By the description we received. Petruchio. Good my Lord the Duke, Believe me, for I know it certainly, This is the very house. Vechio My Lord the Duke? [Exit Vechio.] Duke. Pray heaven this man prove right now. Petruchio. Beleeve it, hee's a most sufficient Scholler, And can doe rare tricks this way; for a figure, Or raising an appearance, whole Christendome Has not a better; I have heard strange wonders of him. Duke. But can he shew us where she is? Petruchio. Most certaine, And for what cause too she departed. Duke. Knock then, For I am great with expectation, Till this man satisfie me: I feare the Spaniards, Yet they appeare brave fellows: can he tell us? Petruchio. With a wet finger, whether they be false. Duke. Away then. Petruchio. Who's within here? Enter Vechio. Vechio. Your Grace may enter. Duke. How can he know me? Petruchio. He knowes all. Vechio. And you sir. Exeunt. FleChan5.2 Enter Don John, and Fredrick. John. What do you call his name? Fredrick. Why, Peter Vechio. John. They say he can raise devills, can he make 'em Tell truth too, when he has rais'd 'em? for beleeve it, These devils are the lyingst Rascalls. Fredrick. He can compell 'em John. With what? can he Tye squibs in their tailes, and fire the truth out? Or make 'em eate a bawling Puritan, Whose sanctified zeale shall rumble like an Earthquake? Fredrick. With Spels man. John. I with spoones as soone; dost thou thinke The devill such an Asse as people make him? Such a poore coxcomb? such a penny foot post? Compel'd with crosse and pile ro run of errands? With Asteroth, and Behemoth, and Belfagor? Why should he shake at sounds, that lives in a smiths forge? Or if he do = Fredrick. Without all doubt he do's John. John. Why should not Bilbo raise him, or a paire of bullyons, They go as big as any? or an unshod Car, When he goes tumble, tumble o're the stones, Like Anacreons drunken verses, make him tremble? These make as fell a noyse; me thinkes the collick Well handled, and fed with small beere = Fredrick. 'Tis the vertue = John. The vertue? nay, and goodnesse fetch him up once, 'Has lost a friend of me; the wise old gentleman Knowes when, and how; I'le lay this hand to two pence, Let all the Conjurers in Christendome, With all their spells, and vertues call upon him, And I but thinke upon a wench, and follow it, He shall be sooner mine then theirs; where's vertue? Fredrick. Thou art the most sufficient, (I'le say for thee) Not to beleeve a thing = John. O sir, slow credit Is the best child of knowledge; I'le go with ye, And if he can do any thing, I'le thinke As you would have me. Fredrick. Let's enquire along, For certaine we are not far off. John. Nor much nearer. Exeunt. FleChan5.3 Enter Duke, Petruchio, and Vechio. Vechio. You lost her yesternight. Petruchio. How thinke you sir? Duke. Is your name Vechio? Vechio. Yes sir. Duke. And you can shew me These things you promise. Vechio. Your graces word bound to me, No hand of Law shall seize me. Duke. As I live sir = Petruchio. And as I live, that can do something too sir. Vechio. I take your promises: stay here a little, Till I prepare some Ceremonies, and I'le satisfie ye. The Ladies name's Constantia? Petruchio. Yes. Vechio. I come straight. Exit Vechio. Duke. Sure hee's a learned man. Petruchio. The most now living; Did your grace marke when we told all these circumstances, How ever and anon he bolted from us To use his studies helpe? Duke. Now I thinke rather To talke with some familiar. Petruchio. Not unlikely, For sure he has 'em subject. Duke. How could he else Tell when she went, and who went with her? Petruchio. True. Duke. Or hit upon mine honour: or assure me The Lady lov'd me dearely? Petruchio. 'Twas so. Enter Vechio in his habiliments. Vechio. Now, I do beseech your Grace sit downe, and you sir; Nay pray sit close like brothers. Petruchio. A rare fellow. Vechio. And what ye see, stir nor at, nor use a word, Untill I aske ye; for what shall appeare Is but weake apparition and thin ayre Not to be held, nor spoken too. Duke. We are counselled = Knocking within. Vechio. What noise is that without there? Fredrick(within). We must speake with him. Servant(within). Hee's busie Gentlemen. John(within). That's all one, friend, We must, and will speake with him. Duke. Let 'em in sir, We know their tongues and businesse, 'tis our owne; And in this very cause that we now come for, They also come to be instructed. Vechio. Let 'em in then: Enter Fredrick, and John. Sit down, I know your meaning. Fredrick. The Duke before us? Now we shall sure know something. Vechio. Not a question, But make your eyes your tongues = John. This is a strange jugler, Neither indent before hand for his payment, Nor know the breadth of the businesse; sure his devell Comes out of Lapland where they sell men winds, For dead drinke, and old doublets. Fredrick. Peace, he conjures. John. Let him, he cannot raise my devill. Fredrick. Prethee peace. Vechio. Appeare, appeare, And you soft winds so cleare, That dance upon the leaves, and make them sing Gentle love-layes to the Spring, Gilding all the vales below With your verdure as ye blow, Raise these formes from under ground With a soft and happy sound. Soft Musick. John. This is an honest Conjurer, and a pretty Poet; I like his words well, there's no bumbast in 'em, But do you thinke now, he can cudgell up the devill, With this short staffe of Verses? Fredrick. Peace the spirits = Two Shapes of women passe by. John. Nay, and they be no worse = Vechio. Do ye know these faces? Duke. No. Vechio. Sit still upon your lives then: and marke what follows: Away, away. [Exeunt the two Shapes.] John. These devils do not paint sure? Have they no sweeter shapes in hell? Fredrick. Harke now John. Constantia passes by. John. I marry, this moves something like, this devill Carries some metall in her gate. Vechio. I find ye, You would see her face unvail'd? Duke. Yes. Vechio. Be uncovered. Duke. O heaven! Vechio. Peace. Petruchio. See how she blushes. John. Fredrick, This devill for my money; this is she Boy, Why dost thou shake? I burne. Vechio. Sit still, and silent. Duke. She lookes back at me; now she smiles sir. Vechio. Silence. Duke. I must rise, or I burst. Exit Constantia. Vechio. Ye see what followes = Duke. O gentle sir this shape agen. Vechio. I cannot, 'Tis all dissolv'd againe: this was the figure? Duke. The very same sir. Petruchio. No hope once more to see it? Vechio. You might have kept it longer, had ye spar'd it, Now 'tis impossible. Duke. No meanes to find it? Vechio. Yes that there is: sit still a while, there's wine To thaw the wonder from your hearts: drinke well sir. Exit Vechio. John. This Conjurer is a right good fellow too, A lad of mettle; two such devils more Would make me a Conjurer: what wine is it? Fredrick. Hollock. John. The devil's in it then, looke how it dances? Well, if I be = Petruchio. We are all before ye, That's your best comfort sir. John. Byth 'mas brave wine; Nay, and the Devils live in this hell, I dare venture Within these two months yet to be delivered Of a large legion of 'em. Enter Vechio. Duke. Here 'a comes, Silence of all sides Gentlemen. Vechio. Good your grace, Observe a stricter temper, and you too gallants, You'l be deluded all else. This merry devill That next appeares, for such a one you'l find it, Must be cal'd up by a strange incantation, A Song, and I must sing it: pray beare with me, And pardon my rude pipe; for yet ere parting Twenty to one I please ye. Duke. We are arm'd Sir. Petruchio. Nor shall you see us more transgresse. Fredrick. What think'st thou Now John? John. Why, now do I thinke Fredrick, (And if I thinke amisse heaven pardon me,) This honest Conjurer, with some foure or five Of his good fellow devils, and my selfe, Shall be yet drunke ere midnight. Fredrick. Peace, he conjures. Song. Vechio. Come away, thou Lady gay, Hoist; how she stumbles? Hark how she mumbles. Dame Gillian. Answer I come, I come. Vechio. By old Claret I enlarge thee, By Canary thus I charge thee, By Britain Mathewglin, and Peeter, Appeare and answer me in meeter. Why when? Why Gill? Why when? Answer You'll tarry till I am ready. Vechio. Once again I conjure thee, By the pose in thy nose, And the gout in thy toes; By thine old dry'd skin, And the mummie within; By thy little, little ruff, And thy hood that's made of stuff; By the bottle at thy breech, And thine old salt itch, By the stakes, and the stones, That have worn out thy bones. Appeare. Appeare. Appeare. Answer [within]. Oh I am here. John. Why, this is the Song Fredrick: twenty pound now To see but our Dame Gillian. Enter Land-lady and the Child. Fredrick. Peace it appeares. John. I cannot peace: devils in French hoods Fredrick? Sathans old Siringes? Duke. What's this? Vechio. Peace. John. She, Boy. Fredrick. What dost thou meane? John. She, Boy, I say. Fredrick. Ha? John. She, boy. The very child too Fredrick. Fredrick. She laughs on us Aloud John, has the devill these affections? I do beleeve 'tis she indeed. Vechio. Stand still. John. I will not; Who calls Jeronimo from his naked bed? Sweet Lady, was it you? If thou beest the devill, First, having crost my selfe, to keep out wildfire, Then said some special prayers to defend me Against thy most unhallowed hood: have at thee. Land-lady. Hold sir, I am no devill. John. That's all one. Land-lady. I am your very Landlady. John. I defie thee: Thus as St. Dunstan blew the devils nose With a paire of tongs, even so right worshipfull = Land-lady. Sweet son, I am old Gillian. Duke. This is no spirit. John. Art thou old Gillian, flesh and bone? Land-lady. I am Son. Vechio. Sit still sir, now I'le shew you all. Exit Vechio. John. Where's thy bottle? Land-lady. Here, I beseech ye son = John. For I know the devill Cannot assume that shape. Fredrick. 'Tis she John, certaine = John. A hogs poxe o' your mouldy chaps, what make you Tumbling and juggling here? Land-lady. I am quit now Signior, For all the prankes you plaid, and railings at me, For to tell true, out of a trick I put Upon your high behaviours, which was a lye, But then it serv'd my turne, I drew the Lady Unto my kinsmans here, only to torture Your Don-ships for a day or two; and secure her Out of all thoughts of danger: here she comes now. Enter Vechio, and Constantia. Duke. May I yet speake? Vechio. Yes, and embrace her too, For one that loves you deerer = Duke. O my sweetest. Petruchio. Blush not, I will not chide ye. Constantia. To add more Unto the joy I know, I bring ye, see sir, The happy fruit of all our vowes. Duke. Heavens blessing Be round about thee ever. John. Pray blesse me to, For if your grace be well instructed this way You'l find the keeping halfe the getting. Duke. How sir? John. I'le tell ye that anon. Constantia. 'Tis true, this Gentleman Has done a charity worthy your favour, And let him have it deare sir. Duke. My best Lady He has, and ever shall have: = so must you sir, To whom I am equall bound, as to my being. Fredrick. Your Graces humble servants. Duke. Why kneele you sir? Vechio. For pardon for my boldnesse: yet 'twas harmlesse And all the art I have sir; those your grace saw Which you thought spirits, were my neighbours children Whom I instruct in Grammer, here, and Musick; Their shapes, the peoples fond opinions, Beleeving I can conjure, and oft repairing To know of things stolne from 'em, I keepe about me, And alwaies have in readinesse; by conjecture Out of their owne confessions, I oft tell 'em Things, that by chance have fallen out so: which way (Having the persons here, I knew you sought for) I wrought upon your grace: my end is mirth, And pleasing, if I can, all parties. Duke. I beleeve it, For you have pleas'd me truly: so well pleas'd me, That when I shall forget it = [Knocking within.] Petruchio. Here's old Antonio, I spide him at a window, comming mainely I know about his whore, and the man you light on, As you discovered unto me: good your Grace, Let's stand by all, 'twill be mirth above all, To observe his pelting fury. Vechio. About a wench sir? Petruchio. A young whore that has rob'd him. Vechio. But do you know sir, Where she is? Petruchio. Yes, and will make that perfect = Vechio. I am instructed well then. John. If he come To have a devill shew'd him, by all meanes Let me be he, I can rore rarely. Petruchio. Be so, But take heed to his anger. Vechio. Slip in quickly, There you shall find suites of all sorts: when I call, Be ready and come forward. = Exeunt all but Vechio. Who's there? come in. Enter Antonio. Antonio. Are you the Conjurer? Vechio. Sir I can do a little That way, if you please to imploy me. Antonio. Presently Shew me a devill that can tell = Vechio. Where your wench is. Antonio. Your are i' th' right; as also where the Fidler That was consenting to her. Vechio. Sit ye there sir, Ye shall know presently: can ye pray heartily? Antonio. Why, is your devill so furious? Vechio. I must shew ye A forme, may chance affright ye. Antonio. He must fart fire then: Take you no care for me. Vechio. Ascend Asteroth, Why, when? appeare I say = Enter Don John like a Spirit. Now question him. Antonio. Where is my whore Don devill? John. Gone to China, To be the great Chams Mistris. Antonio. That's a lye devill: Where are my jewels? John. Pawn'd for Peticoates. Antonio. That may be; where's the Fidler? John. Condemn'd to th' Gallowes, For robbing of a Mill. Antonio. The lyingst devill That e're I dealt withall, and the unlikeliest: What was that Rascall hurt me? John. I. Antonio. How? John. I. Antonio. Who was he? John. I. Antonio. Do ye here conjurer, Dare you venture your devill? Vechio. Yes. Antonio. Then I'le venture my dagger; Have at your devils pate: do ye mew? Enter all. Vechio. Hold. Petruchio. Hold there, I do command ye hold. Antonio. Is this the devill? Why Conjurer = Petruchio. 'Has been a devill to you sir. But now you shall forget all: your whores safe, And all your Jewels: your Boy too. John. Now the devill indeed Lay his ten claws upon thee, for my pate Finds what it is to be a fend. Antonio. All safe? Petrunchio. Pray ye know this person: all's right now. Antonio. Your grace May now command me then: but where's my whore? Petruchio. Ready to goe to whiping. Antonio. My whore whipt? Petrunchio. Yes, your whore without doubt Sir. Antonio. Whipt? pray Gentlemen = Duke. Why, would you have her once more rob ye? the young boy You may forgive, he was intic'd. John. The Whore sir, Would rather carry pitty: a hansome Whore. Antonio. A Gentleman, I warrant thee. Petruchio. Let's in all. And if we see contrition in your whore sir, Much may be done. Duke. Now my deare faire, to you, And the full consummation of my Vow. [Exeunt.] FINIS. Epilopue.> FleChanEpi We have not held you long, nor doe I see One brow in this selected company Assuring a dislike; our paines were eas'd, Could we be confident that all rise pleas'd: But such ambition soares too high: If wee Have satisfi'd the best, and they agree In a faire censure, We have our reward; And in them arm'd, desire no surer guard.