Part 2

_Soph._ I find that all the pity bestow'd upon this woman, Makes but an Anagram of an ill wife, For she was never virtuous.

_Petru._ You'll let me in I hope, for all this jesting.

_Mar._ Hope still, Sir.

_Petron._ You will come down I am sure.

_Mar._ I am sure I will not.

_Petron._ I'll fetch you then.

_Bya._ The power of the whole County cannot, Sir, Unless we please to yield, which yet I think We shall not; charge when you please, you shall Hear quickly from us.

_Mor._ Bless me from a chicken of thy hatching, Is this wiving?

_Petru._ Prethee _Maria_ tell me what's the reason, And doe it freely, you deal thus strangely with me? You were not forc'd to marry, your consent Went equally with mine, if not before it: I hope you do not doubt I want that mettle A man should have to keep a woman waking; I would be sorry to be such a Saint yet: My person, as it is not excellent, So 'tis not old, nor lame, nor weak with Physick, But well enough to please an honest woman, That keeps her house, and loves her Husband.

_Mar._ 'Tis so.

_Petru._ My means and my conditions are no shamers Of him that owes 'em, all the world knows that, And my friends no reliers on my fortunes.

_Mar._ All this I believe, and none of all these parcels I dare [ex]cept against; nay more, so far I am from making these the ends I aim at, These idle outward things, these womens fears, That were I yet unmarried, free to choose Through all the Tribes of man, I'll take _Petruchio_ In's shirt, with one ten Groats to pay the Priest, Before the best man living, or the ablest That e'er leap'd out of _Lancashire_, and they are right ones.

_Petron._ Why do you play the fool then, and stand prating Out of the window like a broken Miller!

_Petru._ If you will have me credit you _Maria_, Come down, and let your love confirm it.

_Mar._ Stay there, Sir, that bargain's yet to make.

_Bya._ Play sure wench, the Packs in thine own hand.

_Soph._ Let me die lowsie, if these two wenches Be not brewing knavery to stock a Kingdom.

_Petru._ Why this is a Riddle: I love you, and I love you not.

_Mar._ It is so: And till your own experience do untie it, This distance I must keep.

_Petru._ If you talk more, I am angry, very angry.

_Mar._ I am glad on't, and I will talk.

_Petru._ Prethee peace, Let me not think thou art mad. I tell thee woman, If thou goest forward, I am still _Petruchio_.

_Mar._ And I am worse, a woman that can fear Neither _Petruchio Furius_, nor his fame, Nor any thing that tends to our allegeance; There's a short method for you, now you know me.

_Petru._ If you can carry't so, 'tis very well.

_Bya._ No, you shall carry it, Sir.

_Petru._ Peace gentle Low-bel.

_Petron._ Use no more words, but come down instantly, I charge thee by the duty of a child.

_Petru._ Prethee come _Maria_, I forgive all.

_Mar._ Stay there; That duty, that you charge me by (If you consider truly what you say) Is now another man's, you gave't away I' th' Church, if you remember, to my Husband: So all you can exact now, is no more But only a due reverence to your person, Which thus I pay: Your blessing, and I am gone To bed for this night.

_Petron._ This is monstrous: That blessing that _St. Dunstan_ gave the Devil, If I were neer thee, I would give thee-- Pull thee down by th' nose.

_By._ Saints should not rave, Sir; A little Rubarb now were excellent.

_Petru._ Then by that duty you owe to me _Maria_, Open the door, and be obedient: I am quiet yet.

_Mar._ I do confess that duty, make your best on't.

_Petru._ Why give me leave, I will.

_Bya._ Sir, there's no learning An old stiff Jade to trot, you know the moral.

_Mar._ Yet as I take it, Sir, I owe no more Than you owe back again.

_Petru._ You will not Article? All I owe, presently, let me but up, I'll pay.

_Mar._ Y'are too hot, and such prove Jades at length; You do confess a duty, or respect to me from you again: That's very near, or full the same with mine?

_Petru._ Yes.

_Mar._ Then by that duty, or respect, or what You please to have it, go to bed and leave me, And trouble me no longer with your fooling; For know, I am not for you.

_Petru._ Well, what remedy?

_Petron._ A fine smart Cudgel. Oh that I were near thee.

_Bya._ If you had teeth now, what a case were we in!

_M[o]r._ These are the most authentique Rebels, next _Tyrone_, I ever read of.

_Mar._ A week hence, or a fortnight, as you bear you, And as I find my will observ'd, I may, With intercession of some friends, be brought May be to kiss you; and so quarterly To pay a little Rent by composition, You understand me?

_Soph._ Thou Boy thou.

_Petru._ Well there are more Maids than _Maudlin_, that's my comfort.

_Mar._ Yes, and more men than _Michael_.

_Petru._ I must not to bed with this stomach, and no meat Lady.

_Mar._ Feed where you will, so it be sound and wholsome, Else live at Livery, for I'll none with you.

_By._ You had best back one of the Dairy Maids, they'll carry. But take heed to your girths, you'll get a bruise else.

_Petru._ Now if thou wouldst come down and tender me: All the delights due to a marriage-bed, Study such kisses as would melt a man, And turn thy self into a thousand Figures, To add new flames unto me, I would stand Thus heavy, thus regardless, thus despising Thee, and thy best allurings: all the beauty That's laid upon your bodies, mark me well, For without doubt your mind's are miserable, You have no Masques for them: all this rare beauty, Lay but the Painter and the Silk-worm by, The Doctor with his Dyets, and the Tailor, And you appear like flea'd Cats, not so handsome.

_Mar._ And we appear like her that sent us hither, That only excellent and beauteous nature; Truly our selves for men to wonder at, But too divine to handle; we are Gold, In our own natures pure; but when we suffer The husbands stamp upon us, then allays, And base ones of you men are mingled with us, And make us blush like Copper.

_Petru._ Then, and never Till then are women to be spoken of, For till that time you have no souls I take it: Good night: come Gentlemen; I'll fast for this night, But by this hand, well; I shall come up yet.

_Mar._ No.

_Petru._ There will I watch thee like a wither'd Jury, Thou shalt neither have meat, Fire, nor Candle, Nor any thing that's easie: do you rebel so soon? Yet take mercy.

_By._ Put up your Pipes: to bed Sir, I'll assure you A months siege will not shake us.

_Moro._ Well said Colonel.

_Mar._ To bed, to bed _Petruchio_: good night Gentlemen, You'll make my Father sick with sitting up: Here you shall find us any time these ten days, Unless we may march off with our contentment.

_Petru._ I'll hang first.

_Mar._ And I'll quarter if I do not, I'll make you know, and fear a wife _Petruchio_, There my cause lies. You have been famous for a woman-tamer, And bear the fear'd-name of a brave Wife-breaker: A woman now shall take those honors off, And tame you; nay, never look so bigg, she shall, believe me, And I am she: what think ye; good night to all, Ye shall find Centinels.

_By._ If ye dare sally. [_Exeunt above._

_Petro._ The devil's in 'em, ev'n the very devil, the downright devil.

_Petru._ I'll devil 'em: by these ten bones I will: I'll bring it to the old Proverb, no sport no pie:----taken down i'th' top of all my speed; this is fine dancing: Gentlemen, stick to me. You see our Freehold's touch'd, and by this light, we will beleagure 'em, and either starve 'em out, or make 'em recreant.

_Petro._ I'll see all passages stopt, but those about 'em: If the good women of the Town dare succor 'em, We shall have wars indeed.

_Soph._ I'll stand perdue upon 'em.

_Mor._ My Regiment shall lie before.

_Jaq._ I think so, 'tis grown too old to stand.

_Petru._ Let's in, and each provide his tackle, We'll fire 'em out, or make 'em take their pardons: Hear what I say on their bare knees-- Am I _Petruchio_, fear'd, and spoken of, And on my wedding night am I thus jaded? [_Exeunt omn._

_Scaena Quarta._

_Enter_ Rowland _and_ Pedro _at several doors._

_Row._ Now _Pedro_?

_Ped._ Very busie Master _Rowland_.

_Row._ What haste man?

_Ped._ I beseech you pardon me, I am not mine own man.

_Row._ Thou art not mad?

_Ped._ No; but believe me, as hasty--

_Row._ The cause good _Pedro_?

_Ped._ There be a thousand Sir; you are not married?

_Row._ Not yet.

_Ped._ Keep your self quiet then.

_Row._ Why?

_Ped._ You'll find a Fiddle That never will be tun'd else: from all women-- [_Exit._

_Row._ What ails the fellow tro? _Jaques_?

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Jaq._ Your friend Sir. But very full of business.

_Row._ Nothing but business? Prethee the reason, is there any dying?

_Jaq._ I would there were Sir.

_Row._ But thy business?

_Jaq._ I'll tell you in a word, I am sent to lay An Imposition upon Souse and Puddings, Pasties, and penny Custards, that the women May not relieve yo[n] Rebels: Fare ye well, Sir.

_Row._ How does my Mistriss?

_Jaq._ Like a resty jade. She's spoil'd for riding. [_Exit_ Jaques.

_Row._ What a devil ail they?

_Enter_ Sophocles.

Custards, and penny Pasties, Fools and Fiddles, What's this to th' purpose? Oh well met.

_Soph._ Now _Rowland_. I cannot stay to talk long.

_Row._ What's the matter? Here's stirring, but to what end? whither goe you?

_Soph._ To view the Works.

_Row._ What Works?

_Soph._ The womens Trenches.

_Row._ Trenches? are such to see?

_Soph._ I do not jest, Sir.

_Row._ I cannot understand you.

_Soph._ Do not you hear In what a state of quarrel the new Bride Stands with her Husband?

_Row._ Let him stand with her, and there's an end.

_Soph._ It should be, but by'r Lady She holds him out at Pikes end, and defies him, And now is fortifi'd, such a Regiment of Rutters Never defied men braver: I am sent To view their preparation.

_Row._ This is news Stranger than Arms in the air: you saw not My gentle Mistriss?

_Soph._ Yes, and meditating Upon some secret business, when she had found it She leap'd for joy, and laugh'd, and straight retir'd To shun _Moroso_.

_Row._ This may be for me.

_Soph._ Will you along?

_Row._ No.

_Soph._ Farewel. [_Exit_ Sophocles.

_Row._ Farewel, Sir. What should her musing mean, and what her joy in't, If not for my advantage? stay ye; may not

_Enter_ Livia _at one door, and_ Moroso _at another, hearkning._

That bob-tail jade _Moroso_, with his Gold, His gew-gaudes, and the hope she has to send him Quickly to dust, excite this? here she comes, And yonder walks the Stallion to discover: Yet I'll salute her: save you beauteous Mistriss.

_Liv._ The Fox is kennell'd for me: save you Sir.

_Row._ Why do you look so strange?

_Liv._ I use to look Sir Without examination.

_Mar._ Twenty Spur-Royals for that word.

_Row._ Belike then The object discontents you?

_Liv._ Yes it does.

_Row._ Is't come to this? you know me, do you not?

_Liv._ Yes, as I may know many by repentance.

_Row._ Why do you break your faith?

_Liv._ I'll tell you that too, You are under age, and no band holds upon you.

_Mor._ Excellent wench.

_Liv._ Sue out your understanding, And get more hair to cover your bare knuckle; (For boys were made for nothing, but dry kisses) And if you can, more manners.

_Mor._ Better still.

_Liv._ And then if I want _Spanish_ Gloves, or Stockings, A ten pound Wastecoat, or a Nag to hunt on, It may be I shall grace you to accept 'em.

_Row._ Farewel, and when I credit women more, May I to _Smithfield_, and there buy a Jade, (And know him to be so) that breaks my neck.

_Liv._ Because I have known you, I'll be thus kind to you; Farewel, and be a man, and I'll provide you, Because I see y'are desperate, some staid Chamber-maid That may relieve your youth with wholsome doctrine.

_Mor._ She's mine from all the world: ha wench?

_Liv._ Ha Chicken?-- [_gives him a box o' th' ear, and Ex._

_Mor._ How's this? I do not love these favors: save you.

_Row._ The devil take thee-- [_wrings him by th' nose._

_Mor._ Oh!

_Row._ There's a Love-token for you: thank me now.

_Mor._ I'll think on some of ye, and if I live, My nose alone shall not be plaid withal. [_Exit._

_Actus Secundus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Petronius, _and_ Moroso.

_Petro._ A Box o'th' ear do you say?

_Mor._ Yes sure, a sound one, Beside my nose blown to my hand; if _Cupid_ Shoot Arrows of that weight, I'll swear devoutly, H'as sued his Livery, and is no more a boy.

_Petro._ You gave her some ill language?

_Mor._ Not a word.

_Petro._ Or might be you were fumbling?

_Mor._ Would I had Sir. I had been a forehand then; but to be baffl'd, And have no feeling of the cause--

_Petro._ Be patient, I have a medicine clapt to her back will cure her.

_Mor._ No sure it must be afore, Sir.

_Petro._ O' my conscience, When I got these two wenches (who till now Ne'r shew'd their riding) I was drunk with Bastard, Whose nature is to form things like it self Heady, and monstrous: did she slight him too?

_Mor._ That's all my comfort: a meer Hobby-horse She made child _Rowland_: s'foot she would not know him, Not give him a free look, not reckon him Among her thoughts, which I held more than wonder, I having seen her within's three days kiss him With such an appetite as though she would eat him.

_Petro._ There is some trick in this: how did he take it?

_Mor._ Ready to cry; he ran away.

_Petro._ I fear her. And yet I tell you, ever to my anger, She is as tame as innocency; it may be This blow was but a favour.

_Mor._ I'll be sworn 'twas well tied on then.

_Petro._ Goe too, pray forget it, I have bespoke a Priest: and within's two hours I'll have ye married; will that please you?

_Mor._ Yes.

_Petro._ I'll see it done my self, and give the Lady Such a sound exhortation for this knavery I'll warrant you, shall make her smell this month on't.

_Mor._ Nay good Sir be not violent.

_Petro._ Neither--

_Mor._ It may be Out of her earnest love there grew a longing (As you know women have such toys) in kindness, To give me a box o'th' ear, or so.

_Petro._ It may be.

_Mor._ I reckon for the best still: this night then I shall enjoy her.

_Petro._ You shall handsel her.

_Mor._ Old as I am, I'll give her one blow for't Shall make her groan this twelve-month.

_Petro._ Where's your Joynture?

_Mor._ I have a Joynture for her.

_Petro._ Have your Council perus'd it yet?

_Mor._ No Council but the night, and your sweet daughter, Shall e'r peruse that joynture.

_Petro._ Very well, Sir.

_Moro._ I'll no demurrers on't, nor no rejoynders. The other's ready seal'd.

_Petro._ Come then let's comfort My Son _Petruchio_, he's like little Children That loose their baubles, crying ripe.

_Mor._ Pray tell me, Is this stern woman still upon the flaunt Of bold defiance?

_Petro._ Still, and still she shall be, Till she be starv'd out, you shall see such justice, That women shall be glad after this tempest, To tie their husbands shooes, and walk their horses.

_Mor._ That were a merry world: do you hear the rumor? They say the women are in insurrection, And mean to make a--

_Petro._ They'll sooner Draw upon walls as we do: Let 'em, let 'em, We'll ship 'em out in Cuck-stools, there they'll sail As brave _Columbus_ did, till they discover The happy Islands of obedience. We stay too long, Come.

_Mor._ Now _St. George_ be with us. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Secunda._

_Enter_ Livia _alone._

_Liv._ Now if I can but get in handsomely, Father I shall deceive you; and this night For all your private plotting, I'll no wedlock; I have shifted sail, and find my Sisters safety A sure retirement; pray to heaven that _Rowland_ Do not believe too far, what I said to him, For yon old Foxcase forc'd me, that's my fear. Stay, let me see, this quarter fierce _Petruchio_ Keeps with his Myrmidons, I must be suddain, If he seize on me, I can look for nothing But Marshal-Law; to this place have I scap'd him; Above there.

_Enter_ Maria _and_ Byancha _above._

_Mar._ _Cheval' a._

_Liv._ A friend.

_By._ Who are you?

_Liv._ Look out and know.

_Mar._ Alas poor wench, who sent thee? What weak fool made thy tongue his Orator? I know you come to parly.

_Liv._ Y'are deceiv'd, Urg'd by the goodness of your cause, I come To do as you do.

_Mar._ Y'are too weak, too foolish, To cheat us with your smoothness: do not we know Thou hast been kept up tame?

_Liv._ Believe me.

_Mar._ No, prethee good _Livia_ Utter thy Eloquence somewhere else.

_By._ Good Cosin Put up your Pipes; we are not for your palate Alas we know who sent you.

_Liv._ O' my word--

_By._ Stay there; you must not think your word, Or by your Maidenhead, or such Sunday oaths, Sworn after Even-Song, can inveigle us To lose our hand-fast: did their wisdoms think That sent you hither, we would be so foolish, To entertain our gentle Sister _Sinon_, And give her credit, while the wooden Jade _Petruchio_ stole upon us: no good Sister, Go home, and tell the merry _Greeks_ that sent you, _Ilium_ shall burn, and I, as did _AEneas_, Will on my back, spite of the _Myrmidons_, Carry this warlike Lady, and through Seas Unknown, and unbeliev'd, seek out a Land, Where like a race of noble _Amazons_ We'll root our se[l]ves, and to our endless glory Live, and despise base men.

_Liv._ I'll second ye.

_By._ How long have you been thus?

_Liv._ That's all one, Cosin, I stand for freedom now.

_By._ Take heed of lying; For by this light, if we do credit you, And find you tripping, his infliction That kill'd the Prince of _Orange_, will be sport To what we purpose.

_Liv._ Let me feel the heaviest.

_Mar._ Swear by thy Sweet-heart _Rowland_ (for by your maiden-head, I fear 'twill be too late to swear) you mean Nothing but fair and safe, and honourable To us, and to your self.

_Liv._ I swear.

_By._ Stay yet, Swear as you hate _Moroso_, that's the surest, And as you have a certain fear to find him Worse than a poor dry'd _Jack_, full of more aches Than _Autumn_ has; more knavery, and usury, And foolery, and brokery, than dogs-ditch: As you do constantly believe he's nothing But an old empty bag with a grey beard, And that Beard such a bob-tail, that it looks Worse than a Mares tail eaten off with Fillies: As you acknowledge that young handsome wench That lies by such a _Bilboa_ blade that bends With ev'ry pass he makes, to th' hilts, [most] miserable, A dry Nurse to his Coughs, a fewterer To such a nasty fellow, a robb'd thing Of all delights youth looks for: and to end, One cast away on course beef, born to brush That everlasting Cassock that has worn As many servants out, as the Northeast passage Has consum'd Sailors: if you swear this, and truly Without the reservation of a gown Or any meritorious Petticoat, 'Tis like we shall believe you.

_Liv._ I do swear it.

_Mar._ Stay yet a little; came this wholsome motion (Deal truly Sister) from your own opinion, Or some suggestion of the Foe?

_Liv._ Nev'r fear me, For by that little faith I have in Husbands, And the great zeal I bear your cause, I come Full of that liberty you stand for, Sister.

_Mar._ If we believe, and you prove recreant, _Livia_, Think what a maim you give the noble Cause We now stand up for: Think what women shall, An hundred years hence, speak thee, when examples Are look'd for, and so great ones, whose relations, Spoke as we do 'em wench, shall make new customs.

_By._ If you be false, repent, go home, and pray, And to the serious women of the City Confess your self; bring not a sin so hainous To load thy soul to this place: mark me _Livia_, If thou be'st double, and betray'st our honors, And we fail in our purpose: get thee where There is no women living, nor no hope There ever shall be.

_Mar._ If a Mothers daughter, That ever heard the name of stubborn husband Find thee, and know thy sin.

_By._ Nay, if old age, One that has worn away the name of woman, And no more left to know her by, but railing, No teeth, nor eyes, nor legs, but wooden ones Come but i'th' wind-ward of thee, for sure she'll smell thee; Thou'lt be so rank, she'll ride thee like a night-Mare, And say her Prayers back-ward to undo thee: She'll curse thy meat and drink, and when thou marriest, Clap a sound spell for ever on thy pleasures.

_Mar._ Children of five year old, like little Fairies, Will pinch thee into motley: all that ever Shall live, and hear of thee, I mean all women, Will (like so many furies) shake their keys; And toss their flaming distaffs o'r their heads, Crying revenge: take heed, 'tis hideous: Oh 'tis a fearful office, if thou hadst (Though thou be'st perfect now) when thou cam'st hither, A false imagination, get thee gone, And as my learned Cosin said, repent, This place is sought by soundness.

_Liv._ So I seek it, Or let me be a most despis'd example.

_Mar._ I do believe thee, be thou worthy of it. You come not empty?

_Liv._ No, here's Cakes, and cold meat, And Tripe of proof: behold, here's Wine and Beer, Be suddain, I shall be surpriz'd else.

_Mar._ Meet at the low parlour door, there lies a close way: What fond obedience you have living in you, Or duty to a man before you enter, Fling it away, 'twill but defile our Off'rings.

_By._ Be wary as you come.

_Liv._ I warrant ye. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Tertia._

_Enter three Maids._

_1 Mai._ How goes your business Girls?

_2._ A foot, and fair.

_3._ If fortune favour us: away to your strength, The Countrey Forces are arriv'd, be gone, We are discover'd else.

_1._ Arm, and be valiant.

_2._ Think of our cause.

_3._ Our Justice.

_1._ 'Tis sufficient. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Quarta._

_Enter_ Rowland _and_ Tranio _at several doors._

_Tra._ Now _Rowland_?

_Row._ How doe you?

_Tra._ How dost thou man? Thou look'st ill:

_[R]ow._ Yes, pray can you tell me _Tranio_, Who knew the devil first?

_Tra._ A woman.

_Row._ So. Were they not well acquainted?

_Tra._ May be so, For they had certain Dialogues together.

_Row._ He sold her fruit, I take it?

_Tra._ Yes, and Cheese That choak'd all mankind after.

_Row._ Canst thou tell me Whether that woman ever had a faith After she had eaten?

_Tra._ That's a School-question

_Row._ No, 'Tis no question, for believe me _Tranio_, That cold fruit after eating bread naught in her But windy promises, and chollick vows That broke out both ways. [Thou] hast heard I am sure Of _Esculapius_, a far famed Surgeon, One that could set together quarter'd Traitors And make 'em honest men.

_Tra._ How dost thou _Rowland_?

_Row._ Let him but take, (if [h]e dare do a cure Shall get him fame indeed) a faithless woman, There will be credit for him, that will speak him, A broken woman _Tranio_, a base woman, And if he can cure such a rack of honor Let him come here, and practice.

_Tra._ Now for honors sake, Why what ail'st thou _Rowland_?

_Row._ I am ridden _Tranio_. And spur-gall'd to the life of patience (Heaven keep my wits together) by a thing Our worst thoughts are too noble for, a woman.

_Tra._ Your Mistriss has a little frown'd it may be?

_Row._ She was my Mistriss.

_Tra._ Is she not?