Part 3

_R[o]w._ No _Tranio_. She has done me such disgrace, so spitefully So like a woman bent to my undoing, That henceforth a good horse shall be my Mistriss, A good Sword, or a Book: and if you see her, Tell her I [doe] beseech you, even for love sake.--

_Tra._ I will _Rowland_.

_Row._ She may sooner Count the good I have thought her, Our old love and our friendship, Shed one true tear, mean one hour constantly, Be old and honest, married, and a maid, Than make me see her more, or more believe her: And now I have met a messenger, farewel Sir. [_Exit._

_Tra._ Alas poor _Rowland_, I will do it for thee: This is that dog _Moroso_, but I hope To see him cold i'th' mouth first, e'r he enjoy her: I'll watch this young man, desperate thoughts may seize him, And if my purse or council can, I'll ease him. [_Exit._

_Scaena Quinta._

_Enter_ Petruchio, Petronius, Moroso, _and_ Sophocles.

_Petru._ For look you Gentlemen, say that I grant her, Out of my free and liberal love, a pardon, Which you, and all men else know, she deserves not, _(Teneatis amici)_ can all the world leave laughing?

_Petro._ I think not.

_Petru._ No by ---- they cannot; For pray consider, have you ever read, Or heard of, or can any man imagine. So stiff a _Tom-boy_, of so set a malice, And such a brazen resolution, As this young Crab-tree? and then answer me, And mark but this too friends, without a cause, Not a foul word come cross her, not a fear, She justly can take hold on, and do you think I must sleep out my anger, and endure it, Sow pillows to her ease, and lull her mischief? Give me a Spindle first: no, no my Masters, Were she as fair as _Nell-a-Greece_, and housewife, As good as the wise Sailors wife, and young still, Never above fifteen, and these tricks to it, She should ride the wild Mare once a week, she should, (Believe me friends she should) I would tabor her, Till all the Legions that are crept into her, Flew out with fire i'th' tails.

_Soph._ Methinks you err now, For to me seems, a little sufferance Were a far surer cure.

_Petru._ Yes, I can suffer, Where I see promises of peace and amendment.

_Mor._ Give her a few conditions.

_Petru._ I'll be hanged first.

_Petron._ Give her a Crab-tree Cudgel.

_Petru._ So I will; And after it a flock-bed for her bones. And hard eggs, till they brace her like a Drum, She shall be pamper'd with ---- She shall not know a stool in ten months, Gentlemen.

_Soph._ This must not be.

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Jaq._ Arm, arm, out with your weapons, For all the women in the Kingdom's on ye;

_Enter_ Pedro.

They swarm like wasps, and nothing can destroy 'em, But stopping of their hive, and smothering of 'em,

_Ped._ Stand to your guard, Sir, all the devils extant Are broke upon us like a cloud of thunder; There are more women marching hitherward, In rescue of my Mistriss, than e'er turn'd tail At _Sturbridge_ Fair, and I believe, as fiery.

_Jaq._ The forlorn hope's led by a Tanner's wife, I know her by her Hide, a desperate woman: She flead her Husband in her youth, and made Raynes of his Hide to ride the parish. Take 'em all together, They are a genealogy of Jennets, gotten And born thus by the boisterous breath of Husbands; They serve sure, a[n]d are swift to catch occasion, (I mean their foes or Husbands) by the forelocks, And there they hang like favours; cry they can But more for Noble spight, than fear: and crying Like the old Giants that were foes to heaven, They heave ye stool on stool, and fling main Pot-lids Like massie Rocks, dart Ladles, tossing Irons, And Tongs like Thunderbolts, till overlaid, They fall beneath the weight; yet still aspiring At those Emperious [Codsheads] that would tame 'em. There's ne'r a one of these, the worst and weakest, (Chuse where you will,) but dare attempt the raising, Against the soveraign peace of Puritans, A _May_-pole and a Morris, maugre mainly Their zeal, and Dudgeon-daggers: and yet more, Dares plant a stand of batt'ring Ale against 'em, And drink 'em out o'th' parish.

_Soph._ Lo you fierce _Petruchio_, this comes of your impatience.

_Ped._ There's one brought in the Bears against the Canons Of the Town, made it good, and fought 'em.

_Jaq._ Another to her everlasting fame, erected Two Ale-houses of ease: the Quarter-Sessions Running against her roundly; in which business Two of the disanullers lost their night-caps: A third stood excommunicate by the cudgel; The Constable, to her eternal glory, Drunk hard, and was converted, and she victor.

_Ped._ Then are they victualed with Pies and Puddings, (The trappings of good Stomachs) noble Ale The true defender, Sausages, and smoak'd ones, If need be, such as serve for Pikes; and Pork, (Better the Jews ne'r hated:) here and there A bottle of _Metheglin_, a stout _Britain_ That will stand to 'em; what else they want, they war for.

_Petru._ Come to council.

_Soph._ Now you must grant conditions, or the Kingdom Will have no other talke but this.

_Petron._ Away then, and let's advise the best.

_Soph._ Why do you tremble?

_Mor._ Have I liv'd thus long to be knockt o'th' head, With half a Washing-beetle: pray be wise, Sir.

_Petru._ Come, something I'll do, but what it is, I know not.

_Soph._ To Council then, and let's avoid their follies. Guard all the doors, or we shall not have a Cloak left. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena_ [_Sexta._]

_Enter_ Petronius, Petruchio, Moroso, Sophocles, _and_ Tranio.

_Petro._ I am indifferent, though I must confess, I had rather see her carted.

_Tra._ No more of that, Sir.

_Soph._ Are ye resolv'd to give her fair conditions? 'Twill be the safest way.

_Petru._ I am distracted, Would I had run my head into a halter When I first woo'd her: if I offer peace, She'll urge her own conditions, that's the devil.

_Soph._ Why, say she do?

_Petru._ Say, I am made an Ass, then; I know her aim: may I, with reputation (Answer me this) with safety of mine honor, (After the mighty manage of my first wife, Which was indeed a fury to this Filly, After my twelve strong labours to reclaim her, Which would have made Don _Hercules_ horn mad, And hid him in his Hide) suffer this _Cicely_? E're she have warm'd my sheets, e're grappell'd with me, This Pinck, this painted Foist, this Cockle-boat, To hang her Fights out, and defie me friends, A well known man of war? if this be equal, And I may suffer, say, and I have done?

_Petron._ I do not think you may.

_Tra._ You'll make it worse, Sir.

_Soph._ Pray hear me good _Petruchio_: but ev'n now, You were contented to give all conditions, To try how far she would carry: 'Tis a folly, (And you will find it so) to clap the curb on, E're you be sure it proves a natural wildness, And not a forc'd. Give her conditions, For on my life this trick is put into her.

_Petron._ I should believe so too.

_Soph._ And not her own.

_Tra._ You'll find it so.

_Soph._ Then if she flownder with you, Clap spurs on, and in this you'll deal with temperance, Avoid the hurry of the world.

_Tra._ And loose. [_Musick above._

_Mor._ No honor on my life, Sir.

_Petru._ I will do it.

_Petron._ It seems they are very merry.

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Petru._ Why [God] hold it.

_Mor._ Now _Jaques_?

_Jaq._ They are i'th' flaunt, Sir.

_Soph._ Yes we hear 'em.

_Jaq._ They have got a stick of Fiddles, and they firk it, In wondrous ways, the two grand _Capitano's_, (They brought the Auxiliary Regiments) Dance with their coats tuckt up to their bare breeches, And bid [them] kiss 'em, that's the burden; They have got _Metheglin_, and audacious Ale; And talk like Tyrants.

_Petron._ How knowest thou?

_Jaq._ I peept in At a loose Lansket.

SONG.

_A Health for all this day To the woman that bears the sway And wears the breeches; Let it come, let it come._

_Let this health be a Seal, For the good of the Common-weal the woman shall wear the breeches._

_Lets drink then and laugh it And merrily merrily quaff it And tipple, and tipple a round here's to thy fool, and to my fool. Come, to all fools though it cost us wench, many a pound._

_Tra._ Hark.

_Petro._ A Song, pray silence. [_All the Women above. Citizens and Countrey _Mor._ They look out. women._

_Petru._ Good ev'n Ladies.

_Mar._ Good you good ev'n Sir.

_Petru._ How have you slept to night?

_Mar._ Exceeding well Sir.

_Petru._ Did you not wish me with you?

_Mar._ No, believe me, I never thought upon you.

_Cun._ Is that he?

_Bya._ Yes.

_Cun._ Sir?

_Soph._ She has drank hard, mark her Hood.

_Cun._ You are--

_Soph._ Learnedly drunk, I'll hang else: let her utter.

_Cun._ And I must tell you, _viva voce_ friend, A very foolish fellow.

_Tra._ There's an Ale figure.

_Petru._ I thank you _Susan Brotes_.

_Cit._ Forward Sister.

_Cun._ You have espoused here a hearty woman, A comly, and courageous.

_Petru._ Well, I have so.

_Cun._ And to the comfort of distressed damsels, Women out-worn in wedlock; and such vessels, This woman has defied you.

_Petru._ It should seem so.

_Cun._ And why?

_Petru._ Yes, can you tell?

_Cun._ For thirteen causes.

_Petru._ Pray by your patience Mistriss.

_Cit._ Forward Sister.

_Petru._ Do you mean to treat of all these?

_Cit._ Who shall let her?

_Petro._ Do you hear, Velvet hood, we come not now To hear your doctrine.

_Cun._ For the first, I take it, It doth divide it self into seven branches.

_Petru._ Hark you good _Maria_, Have you got a Catechiser here?

_Tra._ Good zeal.

_Soph._ Good three pil'd predication, will you peace, And hear the cause we come for?

_Cun._ Yes bob-tails We know the cause you come for, here's the cause, But never hope to carry her, never dream Or flatter your opinions with a thought Of base repentance in her.

_Cit._ Give me Sack, By this, and next strong Ale.

_Cun._ Swear forward Sister.

_Cit._ By all that's cordial, in this place we'll bury Our bones, fames, tongues, our triumphs and [then] all That ever yet was chronicl'd of woman; But this brave wench, this excellent despiser, This bane of dull obedience, shall inherit His liberal Will, and march off with conditions Noble, and worth her self.

_Cun._ She shall _Tom Tilers_, And brave ones too, my Hood shall make a Hearse-cloth, And I'll lie under it like _Jone o' Gaunt_, E'r I go less, my Distaff stuck up by me, For the eternal Trophy of my conquests; And loud fame at my head with two main bottles, Shall fill to all the world the glorious fall Of old _Don Gillian_.

_Cit._ Yet a little further, We have taken Arms in rescue of this Lady; Most just and Noble: if ye beat us off Without conditions, and we recant, Use us as we deserve; and first degrade us Of all our antient chambring: next that The Symbols of our secresie, silk Stockings, Hew of our heels; our petticoats of Arms Tear off our bodies, and our Bodkins break Over our coward heads.

_Cun._ And ever after To make the tainture most notorious, At all our Crests, _videlicet_ our Plackets, Let Laces hang, and we return again Into our former titles, Da[y]ry-maids.

_Petru._ No more wars: puissant Ladies, shew conditions And freely I accept 'em.

_Mar._ Call in _Livia;_ She's in the Treaty too.

_Enter_ Livia _above._

_Mor._ How, _Livia_?

_Mar._ Hear you that Sir? There's the conditions for ye, pray peruse 'em.

_Petron._ Yes, there she is: 't had been no right rebellion, Had she held off; what think you man?

_Mor._ Nay nothing. I have enough o' th' prospect: o' my conscience, The worlds end, and the goodness of a woman Will come together.

_Petron._ Are you there sweet Lady?

_Liv._ Cry you mercy Sir, I saw you not: your blessing.

_Petron._ Yes, when I bless a jade, that stumbles with me. How are the Articles?

_Liv._ This is for you Sir; And I shall think upon't.

_Mor._ You have us'd me finely.

_Liv._ There's no other use of thee now extant, But to be hung up, Cassock, Cap, and all, For some strange monster at Apothecaries.

_Petron._ I hear you whore.

_Liv._ It must be his then Sir, For need will then compel me.

_Cit._ Blessing on thee.

[_Liv._ He wil undoe me in meere pans of Coles To make him lustie.]

_Petron._ There's no talking to 'em; How are they Sir?

_Petru._ As I expected: Liberty and clothes, [_Reads._ When, and in what way she will: continual moneys, Company, and all the house at her dispose; No tongue to say, why is this? or whether will it; New Coaches, and some buildings, she appoints here; Hangings, and Hunting-horses: and for Plate And Jewels for her private use, I take it, Two thousand pound in present: then for Musick, And women to read _French_;

_Petron._ This must not be.

_Petru._ And at the latter end a clause put in, That _Livia_ shall by no man be importun'd, This whole month yet, to marry.

_Petron._ This is monstrous.

_Petru._ This shall be done, I'll humor her awhile: If nothing but repentance and undoing Can win her love, I'll make a shift for one.

_Soph._ When ye are once a bed, all these conditions Lie under your own seal.

_Mar._ Do you like 'em?

_Petru._ Yes. And by that faith I gave you 'fore the Priest I'll ratifie 'em.

_Cun._ Stay, what pledges?

_Mar._ No, I'll take that oath; But have a care you keep it.

_Cit._ 'Tis not now As when _Andrea_ liv'd.

_Cun._ If you do juggle, Or alter but a Letter of these Articles We have set down, the self-same persecution.

_Mar._ Mistrust him not.

_Petru._ By all my honesty----

_Mar._ Enough, I yield.

_Petron._ What's this Inserted here?

_Soph._ That the two valiant women that [command] here Shall have a Supper made 'em, and a large one, And liberal entertainment without grudging, And pay for all their soldiers.

_Petru._ That shall be too; And if a Tun of Wine will serve to pay 'em, They shall have justice: I ordain ye all Pay-masters, Gentlemen.

_Tra._ Then we shall have sport boys.

_Mar._ We'll meet you in the Parlor.

_Petru._ Ne'r look sad, Sir, for I will do it.

_Soph._ There's no danger in't.

_Petr[u]._ For _Livia_'s Article you shall observe it, I have ti'd my self.

_Petron._ I will.

_Petru._ Along then: now Either I break, or this stiff plant must bow. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Tranio _and_ Rowland.

_Tra._ Come you shall take my counsel.

_Row._ I shall hang first. I'll no more love, that's certain, 'tis a bane, (Next that they poison Rats with) the most mortal: No, I thank Heaven, I have got my sleep again, And now begin to write sence; I can walk ye A long hour in my chamber like a man, And think of some thing that may better me; Some serious point of Learning, or my state; No more ay-mees, and [miseries] _Tranio_, Come near my brain. I'll tell thee, had the devil But any essence in him of a man, And could be brought to love, and love a woman, 'Twould make his head ake worser than his horns do; And firk him with a fire he never felt yet, Would make him dance. I tell thee there is nothing (It may be thy case _Tranio_, therefore hear me:) Under the Sun (reckon the mass of follies Crept into th' world with man) so desperate, So mad, so senceless, poor and base, so wretched, Roguy, and scurvy.

_Tra._ Whether wilt thou _Rowland_?

_Row._ As 'tis to be in love.

_Tra._ And why for virtue sake?

_Row._ And why for virtue's sake? dost thou not conceive me?

_Tra._ No by my troth.

_Row._ Pray then and heartily, For fear thou fall into't: I'll tell thee why too, (For I have hope to save thee) when thou lovest, And first beginst to worship the gilt calf: _Imprimis_, thou hast lost thy gentry, And like a Prentice, flung away thy Freedom, Forthwith thou art a slave.

_Tr[a]._ That's a new Doctrine.

_Row._ Next thou art no more man.

_Tra._ What then?

_Row._ A Fryppery; Nothing but braided hair and penny ribbond, Glove, Garter, Ring, Rose, or at best a Swabber, If thou canst love so near to keep thy making, Yet thou wilt lose thy language.

_Tra._ Why?

_Row._ Oh _Tranio_, Those things in love, ne'r talk as we do.

_Tra._ No?

_Row._ No, without doubt, they sigh, and shake the head, And sometimes whistle dolefully.

_Tra._ No tongue?

_Row._ Yes _Tranio_, but no truth in't, nor no reason, And when they cant (for 'tis a kind of canting) Ye shall hear, if you reach to understand 'em (Which you must be a fool first, or you cannot) Such gibb'rish; such believe me, I protest Sweet, And oh dear Heavens, in which such constellations Reign at the births of Lovers, this is too well, And daigne me Lady, daigne me I beseech ye You poor unworthy lump, and then she licks him.

_Tra._ A ---- on't, this is nothing.

_Row._ Thou hast hit it: Then talks she ten times worse, and wryes, and wriggles, As though she had the Itch (and so it may be.)

_Tra._ Why thou art grown a strange discoverer.

_Row._ Of mine own follies _Tranio_.

_Tra._ Wilt thou _Rowland_, Certain ne'er love again?

_Row._ I think so, certain, And if I be not dead drunk I shall keep it.

_Tra._ Tell me but this; what dost thou think of women?

_Row._ Why, as I think of Fiddles, they delight me, Till their strings break.

_Tra._ What strings?

_Row._ Their modesties, Faiths, Vows, and Maidenheads, for they are like Kits They have but four strings to 'em.

_Tra._ What wilt thou Give me for ten pound now, when thou next lovest, And the same woman still?

_Row._ Give me the money; A hundred, and my Bond for't.

_Tra._ But pray hear me, I'll work all means I can to reconcile ye:

_Row._ Do, do, Give me the money;

_Tra._ There.

_Row._ Work _Tranio_.

_Tra._ You shall go sometimes where she is.

_Row._ Yes straight. This is the first good I e'er got by woman.

_Tra._ You would think it strange now, if another beauty As good as hers, say better.

_Row._ Well.

_Tra._ Conceive me, This is no point o' th' wager.

_Row._ That's all one.

_Tra._ Love you as much, or more, than now she hates you.

_Row._ 'Tis a good hearing, let 'em love: ten pound more, I never love that woman.

_Tra._ There it is; And so an hundred, if you lose.

_Row._ 'Tis done; Have you another to put in?

_Tra._ No, no Sir.

_Row._ I am very sorry: now will I erect A new game, and go hate for th' bell; I am sure I am in excellent case to win.

_Tra._ I must have leave To tell you, and tell truth too, what she is, And how she suffers for you.

_Row._ Ten pound more, I never believe you.

_Tra._ No Sir, I am stinted.

_Row._ Well, take your best way then.

_Tra._ Let's walk, I am glad Your sullen Feavor's off.

_Row._ Shalt see me _Tranio_ A monstrous merry man now: let's to the Wedding, And as we go, tell me the general hurry Of these mad wenches and their works.

_Tra._ I will.

_Row._ And do thy worst.

_Tra._ Something I'll do.

_Row._ Do _Tranio_. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Secunda._

_Enter_ Pedro, _and_ Jaques.

_Ped._ A pair of Stocks bestride 'em, Are they gone?

_Ja[q]._ Yes they are gone; and all the pans i'th Town Beating before 'em: What strange admonitions They gave my Master, and how fearfully They threaten'd, if he broke 'em?

_Ped._ O' my Conscience H'as found his full match now.

_Jaq._ That I believe too.

_Ped._ How did she entertain him?

_Jaq._ She lookt on him.

_Ped._ But scurvely.

_Jaq._ With no great affection That I saw: and I heard some say he kiss'd her, But 'twas upon a treaty, and some copies Say, but her Cheek.

_Ped._ _Jaques_, What wouldst thou give For such a Wife now?

_Jaq._ Full as many P[r]ayers As the most zealous Puritane conceives Out of the meditation of fat Veal, Or Birds of prey, cram'd Capons, against Players, And to as good a tune too, but against her: That heaven would bless me from her: mark it _Pedro_, If this house be not turn'd within this fortnight With the foundation upward, I'll be carted. My comfort is yet, that those _Amorites_, That came to back her cause, those Heathen Whores, Had their Hoods hallowed with Sack.

_Ped._ How Div'lish drunk they were!

_Ja[q]._ And how they tumbled, _Pedro_, Didst thou marke The Countrey _Cavaliero_?

_Ped._ Out upon her, How she turn'd down the Bragget!

_Jaq._ I that sunk her.

_Ped._ That Drink was well put to her; What a Somer salt When the chair fel, she fetch'd, with her heels upward!

_Jaq._ And what a piece of Landskip she discover'd!

_Ped._ Didst mark her, when her hood fell in the Posset?

_Jaq._ Yes, and there rid, like a _Dutch_-Hoy; the Tumbrel, When she had got her ballasse.

_Ped._ That I saw too.

_Jaq._ How fain she would have drawn on _Sophocles_ To come aboard, and how she simper'd it--

_Ped._ I warrant her, she has been a worthy striker.

_Jaq._ I'th heat of Summer there had been some hope on't.

_Ped._ Hang her.

_Jaq._ She offer'd him a Harry-groat, and belcht out, Her stomach being blown with Ale, such Courtship, Upon my life has giv'n him twenty stools since: Believe my Calculation, these old Women, When they are tippled, and a little heated, Are like new wheels, they'l roare you all the Town ore Till they be greas'd.

_Ped._ The City _Cinque-a-pace_ Dame Tost and Butter, had the Bob too?

_Jaq._ Yes, But she was sullen drunk, and given to filching, I see her offer at a Spoon; my Master-- I do not like his look, I fear h'as fasted For all this preparation; lets steal by him. [_Exeunt._

_Scaena Tertia._

_Enter_ Petruchio, _and_ Sophocles.

_Soph._ Not let you touch her all this night?

_Petru._ Not touch her.

_Soph._ Where was your courage?

_Petru._ Where was her obedience? Never poor Man was sham'd so; never Rascal That keeps a stud of Whores was us'd so basely.

_Soph._ Pray you tell me one thing truly; Do you love her?

_Petru._ I would I did not, upon that condition I past thee half my Land.

_Soph._ It may be then, Her modesty requir'd a little violence? Some Women love to struggle.

_Petru._ She had it, And so much that I sweat for't, so I did, But to no end: I washt an _Ethiope_; She swore my force might weary her, but win her I never could, nor should, till she consented; And I might take her body prisoner, But for her mind or appetite--

_Soph._ 'Tis strange; This woman is the first I ever read of, Refus'd a warranted occasion, And standing on so fair termes.

_Petru._ I shall quit her.

_Soph._ Us'd you no more art?

_Petru._ Yes, I swore to her, And by no little ones, if presently Without more disputation on the matter, She grew not nearer to me, and dispatcht me Out of the [pain] I was, for I was nettl'd, And willingly, and eagerly, and sweetly, I would to her Chamber-maid, and in her hearing Begin her such a huntes-up.

_Soph._ Then she started?

_Petru._ No more than I do now; marry she answered If I were so dispos'd, she could not help it; But there was one call'd _Jaques_, a poor Butler One that might well content a single woman.

_Soph._ And he should tilt her.

_Petru._ To that sence, and last She bad me yet these six nights look for nothing Nor strive to purchase it, but fair good night And so good morrow, and a kiss or two To close my stomach, for her vow had seal'd it, And she would keep it constant.

_Soph._ Stay ye, stay ye, Was she thus when you woo'd her?