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Ant. Mine's up already,
If you do spring a leak, or get an iteh, And hang him for my part, goes less than life. Till you claw off your curld pate, thank your 2 Gent. If we see noble cause, 'uis like our
night-walks ; swords
You must be still a boot-haling. One round May be as free and forward as your words.
more, (Exeunt. Though it be late, I'll venture to discover ye; I do not like your out-leaps.
(Erit. Enter Don JOHN. John. The civil order of this city Naples
Enter Duke and three Gentlemen. Makes it belov'd and honour'd of all travellers, Duke. Welcome to town. Are ye all fit? As a most safe retirement in all troubles ;
i Gent. To point, sir. Beside the wholesome seat and noble temper Duke. Where are the horses? Of those minds that inhabit it, safely wise, 2 Gent. Where they were appointed. And to all strangers courteous. But I see Duke. Be private ; and whatsoever fortune My admiration has drawn night upon me, Offer itself, let us stand sure. And longer to expect my friend may pull me 3 Gent. Fear us not. Into suspicion of too late a stirrer,
Ere you shall be endanger'd or deluded, Which all good governments are jealous of. We'll make a black night on't. I'll home, and think at liberty : yet certain, Duke. No more, I know it; 'Tis not so far night as I thought'; for see, You know your quarters. A fair house yet stands open, yet all about it i Gent. Will you go alone, sir ? Are close, and no lights stirring; there may be Duke. Ye shall not be far from me, the least
noise I'll venture to look in. If there be knaves, Shall bring ye to my rescue. I may do a good office.
2 Gent. We are counsell’d. [Ercunt. Within. Signior! John. What! How is this?
Enter Don John. Within. Signior Fabritio !
John. Was ever man so paid for being curious? John. I'll go nearer.
Ever so bobb’d for searching out adventures, Within. Fabritio ?
As I am? Did the devil lead me? Must I needs John. This is a woman's tongue; here may be
be peeping good done.
Into men's houses where I had no business, Within. Who's there? Fabritio?
And make myself a mischief? 'Tis well carried ! John. Ay.
I must take other men's occasions on me, Within. Where are you?
And be I know not whom : most finely handled ! John, Here.
What have I got by this now? What's the purWithin. 0, come for Heaven's sake!
chase ? John. I must see what this means.
A piece of evening arras-work, a child,
Indeed an infidel! This comes of peeping ! Enter a Woman with a Child.
A lump got out of laziness! Good white bread, Wom. I have stay'd this long hour for you; Let's have no bawling with ye. 'Sdeath, have I make no noise ;
Known wenches thus long, all the ways of wenFor things are in strange trouble. Here, be se
Their snares and subtleties? Have I read over 'Tis worth your care: begone now ; more eyes All their school learning, dived into their quidwatch us
dits, Than may be for our safeties.
And am I now bumfiddled with a bastard ! John. Hark ye.
Fetch'd over with a card o' five, and in my old Wom. Peace; good night.
days, John. She's gone, and I am loaden. Fortune After the dire massacre of a million for me!
Of maidenheads, caught the common way, i' th' It weighs well, and it feels well; it
Carry more weight about it? Well, Don John, If it be coin or jewels, it is worth welcome. You will be wiser one day, when ye’ve purI'll ne'er refuse a fortune; I am confident
chas'd 'Tis of no common price. Now to my lodging: A bevy of those butter-prints together, If it be right, I'll bless this night. (Exit. With searching out conceal'd iniquities,
Without commission. Why it would never grieve Enter Don FREDERICK.
me, Fred. 'Tis strange,
If I had got this gingerbread : never stir'd me, I cannot meet him; sure he has encounter'd So I had had a stroke for it; 't had been justice Some light o' love or other, and there means Then to have kept it; but to raise a dairy, To play at in and in for this night. Well, Don For other men's adultery, consume myself in John,
And scouring work, in nurses, bells, and babies, That force me to this wild course, at more lei.
I shall reveal unto you.
[Exeunt. Well lind within. To leave it here were bar, barous,
Enter PETRUCHIO, ANTONIO, and two Gentle. And ten to one would kill it; a worse sin Than his that got it. Well, I will dispose on't, Petr. He will sure come: are ye all well arm’d! And keep it as they keep death's heads in rings, Ant. Never fear us : To cry memento to me-no more peeping. Here's that will make 'em dance without a fiddle. Now all the danger's to qualify
Petr. We are to look for no weak foes, my The good old gentlewoman at whose house we
Nor unadvised ones.
We shall fight close and home then.
You are thought too bloody. Let you and I be jogging; your starved treble Ant. Why? All physicians, Will waken the rude watch else. All that be And penny almanacks, allow the opening Curious night-walkers, may they find my fee ! Of veins this month. Why do you talk of bloody?
[Exit. What come we for? to fall to cuffs for apples?
What, would you make the cause a cudgelEnter Don FREDERICK.
quarrel ? Fred. Sure he's gone home:
Petr. Speak softly, gentle cousin. I have beaten all the purlieus,
Ant. I will speak truly. But cannot bolt him: If he be a bobbing, What should men do, allied to these disgraces, 'Tis not my care can cure him: to-morrow Lick o'er his enemy, sit down and dance him? morning
2 Gent. You are as far o'th' bow-hand now. I shall have further knowledge from a surgeon,
Ant. And cry,
Petr. Here are no such cold pities.
Ant. By St Jaques,
They shall not find me one! Here's old tough And through a world of dangers am flown to ye.
Andrew, Be full of haste and care, we are undone else. A special friend of mine, and he but hold, Where are your people? Which way must we I'll strike them such a hornpipe! Knocks I come travel ?
for, For heaven's sake stay not here, sir.
And the best blood I light on: profess it, Fred. What may this prove?
Not to scare costermongers. If I lose my own, Con. Alas ! I am mistaken, lost, undone, My audit's lost, and farewell five-and-fifty. For ever perished ! Sir, for Heaven's sake, tell Petr. Let's talk no longer. Place yourselves me,
with silence Are ye a gentleman ?
As I directed ye; and when time calls us, Fred. I am.
As ye are friends, so shew yourselves. Con. Of this place?
Ant. So be it.
[Excunt. Fred. No, born in Spain.
Enter Don John and his Landlady. Con. As ever you lov'd honour, As ever your desires may gain their end,
Land. Nay, son, if this be your regardDo a poor wretched woman but this benefit, John. Good motherFor I'm forc'd to trust ye.
Land. Good me no goods Your cousin and Fred. Y have charm'd me,
yourself Humanity and honour bids me help ye:
Are welcome to me, whilst you bear yourselves And if I fail your trust
Like honest and true gentlemen. Bring hither Con. The time's too dangerous
To my house, that have ever been reputed To stay your protestations: I believe ye. A gentlewoman of a decent and a fair carriage, Alas ! I must believe ye. From this place, And so behaved myselfGood, noble sir, remove me instantly.
John. I know you have. And for a time, where nothing but yourself, Land. Bring hither, as I say, to make my name And honest conversation, may come near me, Stink in my neighbour's nostrils, your devices, In some secure place settle me. What I am, Your brats got out of alligant and broken oaths, And why thus boldly I commit my credit Your linsey-woolsey work, your hasty puddings! Into a stranger's hand, the fear and dangers I foster up your filch'd iniquities !
You're deceiv'd in me, sir, I am none
Lodged in my house! Now Heaven's my comOf those receivers.
fort, signior! John. Have I not sworn unto you,
John. I look'd for this. 'Tis none of mine, and shew'd you how I found it? Land. I did not think you would have us’d me Land. Ye found an easy fool that let you get it.
thus; John. Will you hear me?
A woman of my credit, one, Heaven knows, Land. Oaths ! what care you for oaths to gain | That loves you but too tenderly.
John. Dear mother, When ye are high and pamper'd? What saint I ever found your kindness, and acknowledge it. know ye?
Land. No, no, I am a fool to counsel ye. Or what religion, but your purpos’d lewdness,
Where's the infant ?
Land. Heaven bless thee,
Thou hadst a hasty making ; but the best is, Land. Nay, I am very sick.
'Tis many a good man's fortune. As I live, John. Who waits there?
Your own eyes, signior ; and the nether lip
As like ye, as ye had spit it.
John. I thought my labour I must e'en make her drunk. [Aside.] Nay, gentle was not all lost : 'tis gold, and these are jewels, mother
Both rich and right, I hope.
Your deer, though it be i'th' dark; all your disFor this, pretended holiness ? No weather,
cretion Not before day, could hold you from the matins. Is not yet lost; this was well clapp'd aboard ; Were these your bo-peep prayers? Ye've pray'd Here I am with ye now, when, as they say, weil,
Your pleasure comes with profit; when you must And with a learned zeal have watch'd well too;
Do where you may be done to ; 'tis a wisdom It seems was pleas'd as well. Still sicker, sicker! Becomes a young man well: be sure of one thing,
Lose not your labour and your time together ; Enter PETER with a Bottle of wine.
It seasons of a fool, son ; time is precious, John. There is no talking to her till I have work wary whilst you have it. Since you must drench'd her.
traffic Give me. Here, mother, take a good round Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold, draught.
signior; It will purge spleen from your spirits ; deeper, Trade with no broken merchants ; make your mother.
lading Land. Aye, aye, son; you imagine this will As you would make your rest, adventurously, mend all.
But with advantage ever. John. All, i'faith, mother.
John. All this time, mother, Land. I confess the wine
The child wants looking to wants meat and nurses. Will do his part.
Land. Now blessing o’thy heart, it shall have all; John. I'll pledge ye.
And instantly I'll seek a nurse myself, son. Land. But, son John
'Tis a sweet child—Ah, my young Spaniard ! John. I know your meaning, mother, touch it Take you no further care, sir.
John. Yes, of these jewels Alas ! you look not well, take a round draught, I must, by your good leave, mother; these are It warms the blood well, and restores the colour,
yours, And then we'll talk at large.
To make your care the stronger; for the rest, Land. A civil gentleman !
I'll find a master; the gold for bringing up on't, A stranger ! one the town holds a good regard of! I freely render to your charge. John. Nay, I will silence thee there.
Land. No more words, Land. One that should weigh his fair name! - Nor no more children, good son, as you love me ; Oh, a stitch!
This may do well.
But where's Don Frederick, mother?
About the like adventure; he told me,
He was to find you out.
John. Why should he stay us?
Enter FREDERICK and ANTHONY with a Candle. not,
Fred. Give me the candle ; so, go you out that Before I have found him. Now this woman's
Ant. What have we now to do? I'll seek my friend out, and my care is eas’d. Fred. And on your life, sirrah,
(Exeunt. Let none come near the door without my know
ledge: Enter Duke and three Gentlemen.
No, not my landlady, nor my friend i Gent. Believe, sir, 'tis as possible to do it, Ant. 'Tis done, sir. As to move the city: the main faction
Fred. Nor any serious business that concerns Swarm through the streets like hornets, and with augurs
Ant. Is the wind there again? Able to ruin states, no safety left us,
Fred. Be gone. Nor means to die like men, if instantly
Ant. I am, sir.
[Erit. You draw not back again.
Fred. Now enter without fear-
Enter 1st CONSTANTIA with a Jewel. Of death than thou art of thy fears, and with And, noble lady, death
That safety and civility ye wish for More than those fears are too
Shall truly here attend you: no rude tongue i Gent. Sir, I fear not.
Nor rough behaviour knows this place; no Duke. I would not break my vow, start from
wishes, my honour,
Beyond the moderation of a man, Because I may find danger; wound my soul Dare enter here. Your own desires and innoTo keep my body safe!
cence, i Gent. I speak not, sir,
Join'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect ye. Out of a baseness to ye.
Con. Ye are truly noble, Duke. No, nor do not
And worth a woman's trust: let it become me, Out of a baseness leave me. What is danger (I do beseech you, sir,) for all your kindness, More than the weakness of our apprehensions ? To render with my thanks this worthless trifle A poor cold part o'th' blood. Who takes it I may be longer troublesome. hold of?
Fred. Fair offices Cowards and wicked livers : valiant minds Are still their own rewards : heavens bless me, Were made masters of it: and as hearty seamen
lady, In desperate storms stem with a little rudder From selling civil courtesies. May it please ye, The tumbling ruins of the ocean;
If ye will force a favour to oblige me,
Con. It shall be ;
The piece is scarce worth looking on.
else. Let them be all the world, and bring along What eyes are there ! rather what little heavens, Cain's envy with them, I will on.
To stir men's contemplation! What a Paradise 2 Gent. You may, sir,
Runs through each part she has ! Good blood, be But with what safety?
temperate ! i Gent. Since 'tis come to dying,
I must look off: too excellent an object You shall perceive, sir, that here be those Confounds the sense that sees it. Noble lady, amongst us,
If there be any further service to cast on me, Can die as decently as other men,
Let it be worth my life, so
nuch I honour ye, And with as little ceremony. On, brave sir. Or the engagements of whole families. Duke. That's spoken heartily.
Con. Your service is too liberal, worthy sir. i Gent. And he that flinches,
Thus far I shall entreatMay be die lousy in a ditch.
Fred. Command me, lady: Duke. No more dying.
You may make your power too poor. There's no such danger in't. What's o'clock?
Con. That presently, 3 Gent. Somewhat above your hour.
With all convenient haste, you will retire Duke. Away then, quickly,
Unto the street you found me in. Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us. Fred. 'Tis done.
[Ereunt. Con. There if you find a gentleman oppress'd
With force and violence, do a man's office, Nor all his wealthy Indies, could not draw me And draw your sword to rescue him.
Through half those miseries this piece of pleasure Fred. He's safe,
Might make me leap into : we are all like seaBe what he will; and let his foes be devils,
charts, Arm'd with your beauty, I shall conjure them. All our endeavours and our motions Retire, this key will guide ye: all things necessary | (As they do to the north) still point at beauty, Are there before ye.
Still at the fairest; for a handsome woman, Con. All my prayers go with ye. [Erit. (Setting my soul aside) it should
hard Fred. Ye clap on proof upon me. Men say, But I will strain my body; yet to ber, gold
Unless it be her own free gratitude, Does all, engages all, works through all dangers : Hopes, ye shall die, and thou, tongue, rot within Now I say, beauty can do more. The king's ex
Ere I infringe my faith. Now to my rescue. [Exit.
Only a little stagger'd.
Duke's fact. Let's pursue them.
Duke. No, not a man, I charge ye. Thanks, Enter Duke, pursued by PETRUCHIO, ANTO
good coat, NIO, and that Faction.
Thou hast sav'd me a shrewd welcome: 'Twas Duke. You will not all oppress me? Ant. Kill him i'th' wanton eye:
With a good mind too, I'm sure on't. Let me come to him.
John. Are you safe then? Duke. Then you shall buy me dearly.
Duke. My thanks to you, brave sir, whose Petr. Say you so, sir?
timely valour, Ant. I say, cut his wezand, spoil his peeping: And manly courtesy, came to my rescue. Have at your love-sick heart, sir.
John. Ye had foul play offers ye, and shame
befal him Enter Don John.
That can pass by oppression, John. Sure 'tis fighting !
Duke. May I crave, sir, My friend may be engaged. Fie, gentlemen, By this much honour more, to know your name, This is unmanly odds.
And him I am so bound to ? [Duke falls; Don John bestrides him. John. For the bond, sir, Ant. I'll stop your mouth, sir.
'Tis every good man's tie: to know me further, John. Nay, then have at thee freely.
Will little profit you ; I am a stranger, There's a plumb, sir, to satisfy your longing. My country Spain, my name Don John, a genPetr. Away; I hope I have sped him: here
tleman comes rescue!
That came abroad to travel.
Ant. I must have one thrust more, sir. Much worthy mention of ye, yet I find
Fame short of what ye are.
To express your courtesy: may I demand Ant. Well:
As freely what you are, and what mischance He's given me my quielus est ; I felt him Cast you into this danger? In my small guts; I'm sure he's feez'd me;
Dúke. For this present This comes of siding with you.
I must desire your pardon: you shall know me 2 Gent. Can you go, sir?
Ere it be long, sir, and nobler thanks,
head were off; Than now my will can render. Never talk of going.
John. Your will's your own, sir. Petr. Come, all shall be well then.
Duke. What is't you look for, sir ? Have you I hear more rescue coming.
lost any thing? [Trampling within. John. Only my hat i' th' scuffle ;-sure these
fellows Enter the Duke's Faction.
Were night-snaps. Ant. Let's turn back then;
Duke. No, believe me, sir : Pray use mine, My skull's uncloven yet, let me kill.
For 'twill be hard to find your own now. Petr. Away, for heaven's sake, with him. John. No, sir.
(Erit cum suis. Duke. Indeed you shall, I can command anoJohn. How is it?
ther : Duke. Well, sir,
I do beseech you, honour me.