SCENE II.

_Enter_ Petruchio, Antonio, _and two Gentlemen_.

_Ant._ Cut his wind-pipe I say.

_1 Gent._ Fye, _Antonio_.

_Ant._ Or knock his brains out first, and then forgive him, If you do thrust, be sure it be to th'hilts, A Surgeon may see through him.

_1 Gent._ You are too violent.

_2 Gent._ Too open undiscreet.

_Pet._ Am I not ruin'd? The honour of my house crack'd? my bloud poyson'd? My Credit and my Name?

_2 Gent._ Be sure it be so, Before ye use this violence: Let not doubt, And a suspecting anger so much sway ye, Your wisedom may be question'd.

_Ant._ I say kill him, And then dispute the cause; cut off what may be, And what is shall be safe.

_2 Gent._ Hang up a true man, Because 'tis possible he may be thievish! Alas, is this good Justice?

_Pet._ I know as certain As day must come again, as clear as truth, And open as belief can lay it to me, That I am basely wrong'd, wrong'd above recompence; Maliciously abus'd, blasted for ever In name and honour, lost to all remembrance, But what is smear'd, and shameful; I must kill him, Necessity compells me.

_1 Gent._ But think better.

_Pet._ There is no other cure left; yet witness with me, All that is fair in man, all that is noble, I am not greedy of this life I seek for, Nor thirst to shed mans blood, and would 'twere possible, I wish it with my soul, so much I tremble To offend the sacred Image of my Maker, My Sword could only kill his Crimes; no, 'tis Honour, Honour, my noble friends, that Idol, Honour, That all the world now worships, not _Petruchio_ Must do this Justice.

_Ant._ Let it once be done, And 'tis no matter, whether you, or honour, Or both, be accessary.

_2 Gent._ Do you weigh, _Petruchio_, The value of the person, power, and greatness, And what this spark may kindle?

_Pet._ To perform it, So much I am ty'd to Reputation, And Credit of my house, let it raise wild-fires, That all this Dukedom smoak, and storms that toss me Into the waves of everlasting ruine, Yet I must through; if ye dare side me.

_Ant._ Dare?

_Pet._ Y'are friends indeed, if not.

_2 Gent._ Here's none flyes from you, Do it in what design ye please, we'll back ye.

_1 Gent._ But then be sure ye kill him.

_2 Gent._ Is the cause So mortal, nothing but his life?

_Pet._ Believe me, A less offence has been the desolation Of a whole name.

_2 Gent._ No other way to purge it?

_Pet._ There is, but never to be hoped for.

_2 Gent._ Think an hour more, And if then ye find no safer Road to guide ye, We'll set up our Rests too.

_Ant._ Mine's up already, And hang him for my part Goes less than life.

_2 Gent._ If we see noble cause, 'tis like our Swords May be as free and forward as your words. [_Exeunt._