The Woman's Prize:
| Od give 'em joy.
Soph. Amen, say I to: (wench,
The Puddings now i'th proof; alas poor
Through what a mine of patience must
[Act One, Scene Two]
[end column one, begin column two page 98]
His mouldy money? half a dozen Riders, 
That cannot sit but stampt fast to their Saddles?
No Rowland, no man shall make use of me;
My beauty was born free, and free Ile give it
To him that loves, not buys me. You yet doubt me.
Row. I cannot say I doubt ye.
Liv. Goe thy waies,
Thou art the prettiest puling piece of passion :
Yfaith I will not faile thee.
Row. I had rather ____
Liv. Prethee believe me, if I do not carry it, 
For both our goods ____
Row. But ____
Liv. What but?
Row. I would tell you.
Liv. I know all you can tell me; all's but this,
You would have me, and lie with me; is't not so ?
Liv. Why you shall ; will that content you? Goe.
Row. I am very loth to goe. Enter Byancha,
Liv. Now o' my conscience and Maria. 
Thou art an honest fellow: here's my sister;
Go, prethee goe; this kisse, and credit me,
Ere I am three nights older, I am for thee:
You shall heare what I do.
Row. Farewell. Exit Rowland.
Liv. Alas poore foole, how it looks?
It would ev'n hang it selfe, should I but crosse it.
For pure love to the matter I must hatch it.
Bya. Nay never look for merry houre Maria, 
If now you make it not; let not your blushes,
Your modesty, and tendernesse of spirit,
Make you continuall Anvile to his anger:
Believe me, since his first wife set him going,
Nothing can bind his rage: Take your own Councell,
You shall not say that I perswaded you.
But if you suffer him ____
Mar. Stay, shall I do it?
Bya. Have you a stomack to't?
Mar. I never shew'd it. 
Bya. Twill shew the rarer, and the stronger in you.
But do not say I urg'd you.
Mar. I am perfect,
Like Curtius to redeeme my Countrey, have I
Leap'd into this gulph of marriage, and Ile do it.
Farewell all poorer thoughts, but spight & anger,
Till I have wrought a miracle. Now cosen,
I am no more the gentle tame Maria;
Mistake me not; I have a new soule in me
Made of a North-wind, nothing but tempest; 
And like a tempest shall it make all ruins,
Till I have run my will out.
Bya. This is brave now,
If you continue it; but your own will lead you.
Mar. Adieu all tendernesse, I dare continue;
Maides that are made of feares and modest blushes,
View me, and love example.
Bya. Here is your sister.
Mar. Here is the brave old mans love.
Bya. That loves the young man. 
Mar. I and hold thee there wench: what a grief of heart
When Paphos Rebels should up rowse old night, (is't,
To sweat against a Cork; to lie and tell
The clock o'th longs, to rise sport-starv'd?
Liv. Deere sister,
Where have you been you talke thus?
Mar. Why at Church, wench;
[End page 98, catchword: Where]
Where I am tide to talke thus: I am a wife now.
Liv. It seems so, and a modest.
Mar. You are an asse; 
When thou art married once, thy modesty
Will never buy thee Pins.
Liv. 'Blesse me.
Mar. From what?
Bya. From such a tame foole as our cozen Livia?
Liv. You are not mad.
Mar. Yes wench, and so must you be,
Or none of our acquantance, marke me Livia.
Or indeed sit for our sex: Tis bed time.
Pardon me yellow Hymen, that I meane 
Thine offrings to protract, or to keepe fasting
My valiant Bridegroome.
Liv. Whether will this woman?
Bya. You may perceive her end.
Liv. Or rather feare it.
Mar. Dare you be partner in't?
Liv. Leave it Maria,
I feare I have mark'd too much, for goodnesse leave it;
Devest you with obedient hands; to bed.
Mar. To bed? No Livia, there are Comets hang 
Prodigious over that yet; there's a fellow
Must yet before I know that heat (nere start wench )
Be made a man, for yet he is a monster;
Here must his head be Livia.
Liv. Never hope it.
Tis as easie with a Sive to scoope the Ocean, as
To tame Petruchio.
Mar. Stay: Lucina heare me,
Never unlock the treasure of my womb
For humane fruit, to make it capable; 
Nor never with thy secret hand make briefe
A mothers labour to me; if I doe
Give way unto my married husbands will,
Or be a wife, in any thing but hopes,
Till I have made him easie as a child,
And tame as feare, he shall not win a smile,
Or a pleas'd look, from this austerity,
Though it would pull another Joynture from him,
And make him ev'ry day another man;
And when I kisse him, till I have my will, 
May I be barren of delights, and know
Onely what pleasures are in dreams, and guesses.
Liv. A strange Exordium.
Bya. All the severall wrongs
Done by Emperious husbands to their wives
These thousand yeeres and upwards, strengthen thee :
Thou hast a brave cause.
Mar. And Ile doe it bravely
Or may I knit my life out ever after.
Liv. In what part of the world got she this spirit? 
Yet pray Maria, looke before you truly,
Besides the obedience of a wife,
Which you will finde a heavy imputation,
Which yet I cannot thinke your own, it shews
So distant from your sweetnesse.
Mar. Tis I sweare.
Liv. Weigh but the person, and the hopes you have,
To worke this disperate cure.
Mar. A weaker subject
Would shame the end I aime at, disobedience. 
You talk too tamely: By the faith I have
In mine own Noble will, that childish woman
That lives a prisoner to her husbands pleasure,
Has lost her making, and becomes a beast,
Created for his use, not fellowship.
[End column one, begin column two page 99]
Liv. His first wife said as much.
Mar. She was a foole,
And took a scurvy course; let her be nam'd
'Mongst those that wish for things, but dare not do 'em:
I have a new daunce for him. 
Liv. Are you of this faith?
Bya. Yes truly, and wil die in't.
Liv. Why then let's all weare breeches.
Mar. Now thou comst neere the nature of a woman;
Hang these tame hearted Eyasses, that no sooner
See the Lure out, and heare their husbands halla,
But cry like Kites upon 'em: The free Haggard
(Which is that woman, that hath wing, and knowes it,
Spirit, and plume) wil make an hundred checks,
To shew her freedome, saile in ev'ry ayre, 
And look out ev'ry pleasure; not regarding
Lure, nor quarry, till her pitch command
What she desires, making her foundred keeper
Be glad to fling out traines, and golden ones,
To take her down again.
Liv. You are learned sister;
Yet I say still take heed.
Mar. A witty saying ;
Ile tell thee Livia, had this fellow tired
As many wives as horses under him, 
With spurring of their patience; had he got
A Patent, with an Office to reclaime us
Confirm'd by Parliament; had he all the malice
And subtilty of Devils, or of us,
Or any thing that's worse then both.
Liv. Hey, hey boyes, this is excellent.
Mar. Or could he
Cast his wives new again, like Bels to make 'em
Sound to his will; or had the fearfull name
Of the first breaker of wilde women: yet, 
Yet would I undertake this man, thus single,
And spight of all the freedom he has reach'd to,
Turn him and bend him as I list, and mold him
Into a babe again; that aged women,
Wanting both teeth & spleen, may Master him.
Bya. Thou wilt be chronicl'd.
Mar. That's all I aime at.
Liv. I must confesse, I do with all my heart
Hate an Emperious husband, and in time
Might be so wrought upon. 
Bya. To make him cuckold?
Mar. If he deserve it.
Liv. Then Ile leave ye Ladies.
Bya. Thou hast not so much Noble anger in thee.
Mar. Goe sleep, goe sleep, what we intend to do,
Lies not for such starv'd soules as thou hast Livia.
Liv. Good night : the Bridegroom will be with you
Mar. That's more then you know. (presently.
Liv. If ye worke upon him,
As you have promised, ye may give example, 
Which no doubt will be followed.
By. Good night: we'l trouble you no further.
Mar. If you intend no good, pray doe no harm.
Liv. None, but pray for you. Exit Livia.
Bya. 'Cheere wench?
Mar. Now Byancha,
Those wits we have let's wind 'em to the height,
My rest is up wench, and I pull for that
Will make me ever famous. They that lay 
Foundations, are halfe builders all men say.
Jaq. My Master forsooth.
[Signature Nnnnn 2, end page 99, catchword: Mar., EEBO 306/473 ]
Mar. Oh how do's thy Master? prethee commend me
Jaq. How's this? my Master staies forsooth. (to him.
Mar. Why let him stay, who hinders him forsooth?
Jaq. The Revel's ended now,
To visit you.
Mar. I am not sick.
Jaq. I mean to see his chamber, forsooth. (sooth? 
Mar. Am I his Groom? where lay he last night, for-
Jaq. In the low matted Parlour.
Mar. There lies his way by the long Gallery.
Jaq. I mean your chamber: y'ar very merry Mistris.
Mar. Tis a good signe I am sound hearted Jaques:
But if you'l know where I lie, follow me;
And what thou seest, deliver to thy Master.
Bya. Do gentle Jaques. Exeunt.
Ja. Ha, is the wind in that dore?
By'r Lady we shall have foule weather then: 
I doe not like the shuffling of these women, (ther:
They are mad beasts when they knock their heads toge-
I have observ'd them all this day; their whispers,
One in anothers eare, their signes, and pinches,
And breaking often into violent laughters :
As if the end they purpos'd were their own.
Call you this weddings? Sure this is a knavery,
A very trick, and dainty knavery,
Marvellous finely carried, that's the comfort:
What would these women doe in waies of honour, 
That are such Masters this way. Well, my Sir
Has been as good at finding out these toyes,
As any living; if he lose it now,
At his own perill be it. I must follow. Exit.
[Bowers line numbers 1-222. ]
[Act One, Scene Three]
Petru. You that
are married, Gentlemen, home at ye
[end column one, begin column two page 100]
nesse, as I finde tis very possible, I am not the first that has
miscarried; So that's my comfort, what may be done 
without impeach or waste, I can and will doe.
How now is my faire Bride a bed?
Jaq. No truly sir.
Petron. Not a bed yet? body o'me: we'l up and rifle
her: here's a coyle with a mayden-head, tis not intayl'd,
Petru. If it be, ile try all the Law i'th Land, but Ile cut
it off: let's up, let's up, come.
Jaq. That you cannot neither. 
Jaq. Unlesse you'll drop through the Chimney like a
Daw, or force a breach i'th windows: you may untile
the house, tis possible.
Petru. What dost thou meane?
Jaq. A morall sir, the Ballat will expresse it:
The wind and the rain has turnd you back again,
And you cannot be lodged there. The truth is all the doores
Are baracadoed; not a Cathole, but holds a murd'rer in't.
She's victual'd for this moneth. 
Petru. Art not thou drunk?
Soph. He's drunk, he's drunk; come, come, let's up.
Jaq. Yes, yes, I am drunke: ye may goe up, ye may
Gentlemen, but take heed to your heads: I say no more.
Soph. Ile try that. Exit Soph.
Petron. How dost thou say? the door fast lock'd fellow?
Jaq. Yes truly sir, tis lock'd, and guarded too; and
two as desperate tongues planted behind it, as ere yet
batterd: they stand upon their honours, and will not
give up without strange composition, Ile assure you; 
marching away with their Pieces cockt, and Bullets in
their mouthes will not satisfie them.
Petru. How's this? how's this they are?
Is there another with her?
Jaq. Yes marry is there, and an Engineir.
Mor. Who's that for Heavens sake?
Jaq. Colonell Byancha, she commands the workes:
Spinala's but a ditcher to her, there's a halfe-moon: I am
but a poore man, but if you'l give me leave, Ile venture a
yeeres wages, draw all your force before it, and mount 
your ablest piece of battery, you shall not enter it these
three nights yet.
Petru. I should laugh at that good Jaques.
Soph. Beat back again, she's fortified for ever.
Jaq. Am I drunk now sir?
Soph. He that dares most, goe up now, and be cool'd.
I have scap'd a pretty scowring.
Petru. What are they mad? have we another Bedlam?
They doe not talke I hope? 
Soph. Oh terribly, extreamly fearfull, the noise at Lon-
don-bridge is nothing neere her.
Petru. How got she tongue?
Soph. As you got taile, she was born to't.
Petru. Lock'd out a doors, and on my wedding-night?
Nay, and I suffer this, I may goe graze:
Come Gentlemen, Ile batter; are these vertues?
Soph. Do, and be beaten off with shame, as I was: I went
up, came to th' doore, knockd, no body answered;
knock'd lowder, yet heard nothing: would have broke 
in by force; when suddenly a water-worke flew from
the window with such violence, that had I not duck'd
quickly like a Fryer, cætera quis nescit? The chamber's
nothing but a meere Ostend, in every window Pewter
cannons mounted, you'l quickly finde with what they
are charg'd, sir.
[End page 100, catchword: Petru. ]
Petru. Why then tantara for us.
Soph. And all the lower works lin'd sure with small
shot, long tongues with Fire-locks, that at twelve score
blanke hit to the heart: now and ye dare go up 
Enter Maria and Byanca above.
Mor. The window opens, beat a parley first;
I am so much amaz'd my very haire stands.
Petron. Why how now daughter: what intrenc'd?
Mar. A little guarded for my safety sir.
Petru. For your safety Sweet-heart? why who offends
I come not to use violence. (you?
Mar. I thinke you cannot sir, I am better fortified.
Petru. I know your end,
You would faine reprieve your Maiden-head 
A night, or two.
Mar. Yes, or ten, or twenty, or say an hundred;
Or indeed, till I list lie with you.
Soph. That's a shrewd saying; from this present houre,
I never will believe a silent woman.
When they break out they are bonfires.
Petro. Till you list lie with him? why who are you
Bya. That trim Gentlemans wife, sir. (Madam?
Petru. Cry you mercy, do you command too?
Mar. Yes marry do's she, and in chiefe. 
Bya. I doe command, and you shall go without:
(I mean your wife, for this night)
Mar. And for the next too wench, and so as't follows.
Petro. Thou wilt not, wilt 'a?
Mar. Yes indeed deere father,
And till he seale to what I shall set down,
For any thing I know, for ever.
Soph. Indeed these are Bugs-words.
Tra. You heare sir, she can talke, God be thanked.
Petru. I would I heard it not sir. (man, 
Soph. I finde that all the pity bestowd upon this wo-
Makes but an Anagram of an ill wife,
For she was never vertuous.
Petru. Youl 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. Ile fetch you then.
Bya. The power of the whole County cannot sir,
Unlesse we please to yield, which yet I thinke 
We shal not; charge when you please, you shall
Heare quickly from us.
Mor. Blesse me from a Chicken of thy hatching,
Is this wiving?
Petru. Prethee Maria tell me what's the reason,
And do it freely, you deale 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 keepe 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 wel 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 except against; nay more, so far
I am from making these the ends I aime at,
These idle outward things, these womens feares,
That were I yet unmarried, free to choose
[end column one, begin column two page 101]
Through all the Tribes of man, i'ld take Petruchio
In's shirt, with one ten Groats to pay the Priest,
Before the best man living, or the ablest (ones.
That ev'r leap'd out of Lancashire, and they are right
Petron. Why do you play the foole then, and stand pra-
Out of the window like a broken Miller! (ting 
Petru. If you wil have me credit you Maria,
Come down, and let your love confirme 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 Kingdome.
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 wil talke.
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 feare
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 wel.
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 mans, you gave't away 
I'th Church, if you remember, to my husband:
So all you can exact now, is no more
But onely 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 neere thee, I would give thee___
Pull thee down by th' nose.
Bya. Saints should not rave, sir; 
A little Rubarb now were excellent.
Petru. Then by that duty you owe to me Maria,
Open the doore, and be obedient: I am quiet yet.
Mar. I do confesse that duty; make your best on't.
Petru. Why give me leave, I will.
Bya. Sir, there's no learning
An old stiffe Jade to trot: you know the morall.
Mar. Yet as I take it sir, I owe no more
Then you owe back again.
Petru. You wil not Article? 
All I owe, presently, let me but up, ile pay.
Mar. Y'are too hot, and such prove Jades at length;
You do confesse a duty or respect to me from you again:
That's very neere, or full the same with mine?
Mar. Then by that duty, or respect, or what
You please to have it, goe 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 Cudgell. Oh that I were neer thee.
Bya. If you had teeth now, what a case were we in?
[End page 101, catchword: Mor., EEBO 307/437]
Mor. These are the most authentique Rebels, next
Tyrone, I ever read of.
Mar. A weeke hence, or a fortnight, as you beare you,
And as I finde my will observ'd, I may
With intercession of some friends be brought
May be to kisse you; and so quarterly
To pay a little rent by composition,
You understand me? 
Soph. Thou Boy, thou.
Petru. Well there are more Maides then Maudlin, that's
Mar. Yes, and more men then Michael. (meat Lady.
Petru. I must not to bed with this stomach, and no
Mar. Feed where you will, so it be sound, and whol-
Else live at livery, for i'le none with you. (some,
By. You had best back one of the dairy maids, they'l
But take heed to your girthes, you'l get a bruise else. 
Petru. Now if thou would'st come down, and tender
All the delights due to a marriage bed, (me:
Studdy such kisses as would melt a man,
And turne thy selfe into a thousand figures,
To adde new flames unto me, I would stand
Thus heavy, thus regardlesse, thus despising
Thee, and thy best allurings: all thy beauty
That's laid upon your bodies, mark me well,
For without doubt your mind's are miserable,
You have no maskes for them: all this rare beauty, 
Lay but the Painter, and the silke worme by,
The Doctor with his dyets, and the Taylor,
And you appeare like flead Cats, not so handsome.
Mar. And we appeare like her that sent us hither,
That onely 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 alayes,
And bas 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 soules I take it :
Good night: come Gentlemen; i'le fast for this night,
But by this hand -- well: I shall come up yet ?
Petru. There will I watch thee like a wither'd Jewry,
Thou shalt neither have meat, fire, nor Candle,
Nor any thing that's easie: doe you rebell so soone? 
Yet take mercy.
By. Put up your Pipes: to bed sir; i'le assure you
A moneths seige will not shake us.
Moro. Well said Colonell.
Mar. To bed to bed Petruchio: good night Gentlemen,
You'l make my Father sicke with sitting up:
Here you shall finde us any time these ten dayes,
Unlesse we may march off with our contentment.
Petru. Ile hang first.
Mar. And i'le quarter if I doe not, 
Ile make you know, and feare a wife Petruchio,
There my cause lies.
You have been famous for a woman tamer,
And beare the fear'd-name of a brave wife-breaker :
A woman now shall take those honours off, (leeve me,
And tame you; nay, never look so bigge, she shall be-
And I am she: what thinke ye; good night to all,
Ye shall finde Centinels
By. If ye dare sally. Exeunt above.
Petro. The devill's in 'em, ev'n the very devill, the 
downe right devill.
[end column one, begin column two page 102]
Petru. Ile devill 'em: by these ten bones I will: i'le
bring it to the old Proverb, no sport no pie: ____
taken down i'th top of all my speed; this is fine danc-
ing: Gentlemen, stick to me. You see our Freehold's
touch'd, and by this light, we will beleaguer 'em, and
either starve 'em out, or make 'em recreant.
Petro. Ile see all passages stopt, but those about 'em:
If the good women of the Towne dare succour 'em,
We shall have warres indeed. 
Soph. Ile stand perdue upon 'em.
Mor. My regiment shall lye before.
Iaq. I think so, 'tis grown too old to stand.
Petru. Let's in, and each provide his tackle,
We'l fire 'em out, or make 'em take their pardons,
Heare what I say, on their bare knees ____
Am I Petruchio, fear'd, and spoken of,
And on my wedding night am I thus jaded? Exe. Omnes.
Bowers line numbers 1-292
[Act One, Scene Four]
Row. Now Pedro
[End page 102, catchword: Row. ]
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 fortifide; such a Regiment of Rutters
Never defied men braver: I am sent 
To view their preparation.
Row. This is newes
Stranger then Armes in the ayre, you saw not
My gentle Mistresse?
Soph. Yes, and meditating
Upon some secret businesse, when she had found it
She leapt for joy, and laugh'd and straight retir'd
To shun Moroso.
Row. This may be for me.
Soph. Will you along ? 
Soph. Farewell. Exit Sophocles.
Row. Farewell sir.
What should her musing meane, and what her joy in't,
If not for my advantage? stay ye; may not Enter
That Bob-taile Jade Moroso, with his Gold, Livia at
His gew-gaudes, and the hope she has to send him one
Quickly to dust, excite this? here she comes, doore, and
And yonder walkes the Stallion to discover: Moroso at
Yet i'le salute her: save you beauteous mistresse. another 
Livi. The Fox is kennell'd for me: save you sir. hark-
Row. Why doe you looke so strange? ning.
Liv. I use to looke sir
Moro. 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, doe you not?
Liv. Yes as I may know many by repentance. 
Row. Why doe you breake your faith?
Liv. Ile tell you that too,
You are under age, and no band holds upon you.
Moro. Excellent wench.
Liv. Sue out your understanding,
And get more haire, to cover your bare knuckle
(For Boyes were made for nothing, but dry kisses, )
And if you can, more manners.
Moro. Better still.
Liv. And then if I want Spanish gloves, or stockings, 
A ten-pound waste-coate, or a Nag to hunt on,
It may be I shall grace you to accept 'em.
Row. Farewell, and when I credit women more,
May I to Smith-field, and there buy a Jade,
(And know him to be so) that breakes my neck.
Liv. Because I have knowne you, Ile be thus kinde to
Farewell, and be a man, and i'le provide you, (you;
Because I see y'are desperate, some staid Chamber-maid
That may relieve your youth, with wholesome doctrin.
Mor. She's mine from all the world: ha wench? 
Liv. Ha Chicken ? ____ gives him a box o'th eare and Ex.
Mor. How's this? I do not love these favours: save you.
Row. The devill take thee____ wrings him byth' nose.
Row. There's a love token for you: thank me now.
Mor. Ile thinke on some of ye, and if I live,
My nose alone shall not be plaid withall. Exit.
Bowers line numbers 1-75
Actus secundus. Scæna prima.
[end column one, begin column two page 103]
Beside my nose blown to my hand; if Cupid
Shoot Arrows of that waight, i'le sweare devoutly,
Has sude his liverie, and no more a Boy.
Petro. You gave her some ill language?
Mor. Not a word,
Petro. Or might be you weare fumbling?
Mor. Would I had sir.
I had been a forehand then; but to be baffel'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 drunck with Bastard,
Whose nature is to forme things like it selfe
Heady, and monstrous: did she slight him too?
Mor. That's all my comfort: a meere Hobby-horse
She made childe Rowland: s'foot she would not know 
Not give him a free look, not reckon him (him,
Among her thoughts, which I held more then wonder,
I having seene her within's three dayes kisse 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 feare 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. Ile be sworne
'Twas well tye'd on then.
Petro. Goe too, pray forget it,
I have bespoke a Priest: and within's two houres
Ile have ye married; will that please you?
Petro. Ile see it done my selfe, and give the Lady
Such a sound exhortation for this knavery
Ile warrant you, shall make her smell this Moneth on't,
Mor. Nay good sir, be not violent. 
Mor. It may be
Out of her earnest love, there grew a longing
(As you know women have such toyes) in kindnesse,
To give me a box o'th eare or so.
Petro. It may be.
Mor. I reckon for the best still: this night then
I shall enjoy her.
Petro. You shall hansell her.
Mor. Old as I am, i'le give her one blow for't 
Shall make her groane this twelve-moneth.
Petro. Where's your joynture?
Mor. I have a joynture for her.
Petro. Have your Councell
Perus'd it yet?
Mor. No Councell, but the night, and your sweet
Shall ere peruse that Joynture. (daughter
Petro. Very well sir.
Moro. Ile 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 Bables, 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
[End page 103, catchword: To, EEBO 308/473]
To tye their husbands shooes, and walke their horses ; 
That were a merry world: doe you heare the rumour,
They say the women are in Insurrection,
And meane to make a ____
Petro. They'l sooner
Draw upon walls as we doe: Let 'em, let 'em,
We'l ship 'em out in Cuck-stooles, there they'l saile
As brave Columbus did, till they discover
The happy Islands of obedience.
We stay too long, Come.
Mor. Now Saint George be with us. Exeunt. 
Bowers line numbers 1-60
[Act Two, Scene Two]
Liv. Now if
I can but get in hansomely,
[end column one, begin column two page 104]
I stand for freedome now.
By. Take heed of lying;
For by this light, if we doe credit you,
And finde you tripping, his infliction
That kill'd the Prince of Orenge, will be sport
To what we purpose.
Liv. Let me feele the heaviest. (mayden-head, 
Mar. Swear by thy Sweet-heart Rowland (for by your
I feare 'twill be too late to swear) you meane
Nothing but faire and safe, and honourable
To us, and to your selfe.
Liv. I sweare.
By. Stay yet,
Sweare as you hate Moroso, that's the surest,
And as you have a certaine feare to finde him
Worse then a poore dride Jack, full of more Aches
Then Autumne has; more knavery, and usury, 
And foolery, and brokery, then doggs-ditch:
As you doe constantly beleeve he's nothing
But an old empty bagge with a grey beard,
And that beard such a Bob-taile, that it lookes
Worse then a Mares taile eaten off with Fillyes :
As you acknowledge, that young hansome wench
That lyes by such a Bilbo blade, that bends
With ev'ry passe he makes to'th hilts, most miserable,
A dry nurse to his Coughes, a fewterer
To such a nasty fellow, a rob'd thing 
Of all delights youth lookes for: and to end,
One cast away on course beef, born to brush
That everlasting Cassock that has worne
As many Servants out, as the Northeast passage
Has consum'd Saylors: if you sweare this, and truly
Without the reservation of a gowne
Or any meritorious Petticoate,
'Tis like we shall beleeve you.
Liv. I doe sweare it.
Mar. Stay yet a little; came this wholesome motion 
(Deale truly Sister) from your own opinion,
Or some suggestion of the Foe?
Liv. Nev'r feare me,
For by that little faith I have in husbands,
And the great zeale I beare your cause, I come
Full of that liberty, you stand for, Sister.
Mar. If we beleeve, and you prove recreant Livia,
Think what a maym you give the noble Cause
We now stand up for: Thinke what women shall
An hundred yeare hence speak thee, when examples 
Are look'd for, and so great ones, whose relations
Spoke as we doe th'em wench, shall make new customs.
By. If you be false, repent, goe home, and pray,
And to the serious women of the City
Confesse your selfe; bring not a sinne so heynous
To load thy soule, to this place: mark me Livia,
If thou bee'st double, and betray'st our honours,
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
Found thee, and know thy sinne.
By. Nay, if old age,
One that has worne away the name of woman,
And no more left to know her by, but railing,
No teeth, nor eyes nor legges, but woodden ones ( thee
Come but i'th wind-ward of thee, for sure she'l smell
Thou'lt be so ranck, she'l ride thee like a night-mare,
And say her Prayers back-ward to undoe thee, 
She'l curse thy meat and drink, and when thou marriest,
Clap a sound spell for ever on thy pleasures.
Mar. Children of five yeare old, like little Fayries
Will pinch thee into motley, all that ever
Shall live, and heare of thee, I meane all women ;
Will (like so many furies) shake their Keyes,
And tosse their flaming distaffes o're their heads,
Crying Revenge: take heed, 'tis hideous:
Oh 'tis a fearefull office, if thou had'st
(Though thou bee'st perfect now) when thou cam'st 
A false Imagination, get thee gone, (hither,
And as my learned Cozen said repent,
This place is sought by soundnesse.
Liv. So I seeke it,
Or let me be a most despis'd example.
Mar. I doe beleeve thee, be thou worthy of it.
You come not empty?
Liv. No, Here's Cakes, and cold meat,
And tripe of proofe: behold here's wine, and beere,
Be suddaine I shall be surpriz'd else. (way: 
Mar. Meet at the low Parlor doore, there lyes a close
What fond obedience you have living in you,
Or duty to a man, before you enter,
Fling it away, 'twill but defile our Offrings.
By. Be wary as you come,
Liv. I warrant ye. Exeunt.
Bowers line numbers 1-122
[Act Two, Scene Three]
How goes your businesse Girles?
Bowers line numbers: Act two, scene five 1-5
[Act Two, Scene Four]
Now Rowland? 
[end column one, begin column two page 105]
Row. Thou ha'st heard I am sure
Of Esculapius, a farre famed Surgeon,
One that could set together quarter'd Traytors,
And make 'em honest men.
Tra. How do'st thou Rowland?
Row. Let him but take, (if he dare doe a cure
Shall get him fame indeed) a faithlesse woman,
There will be credit for him, that will speake him, 
A broken woman Tranio, a base woman,
And if he can cure snch a rack of honour
Let him come here, and practise.
Tra. Now for honours sake
Why what ayl'st thou Rowland?
Row. I am ridden Tranio.
And Spur-gald to the life of patience
(Heaven keepe my wits together) by a thing
Our worst thoughts are too noble for, a woman.
Tra. Your Mistresse has a little frown'd it may be? 
Row. She was my Mistresse.
Tra. Is she not ?
Row. 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 Mistresse,
A good Sword, or a Booke: 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 friend-ship,
Shed one true teare, meane one houre constantly,
Be old, and honest, married, and a maide,
Then make me see her more, or more beleeve her:
And now I have met a Messenger, farewell sir. Exit.
Tra. Alas poore Rowland, I will doe it for thee:
This is that dogge Moroso, but I hope
To see him cold i'th mouth first 'er he enjoy her: (him,
Ile watch this young man, desperate thoughts may seize 
And if my purse, or councell can, i'le ease him. Exit.
Bowers line numbers: Act two, scene three 1-43
[Begin signature Ooooo; catchword: (beleeve, EEBO 309/473]
(Believe me friends she should) I would tabor her,
Till all the Legions that are crept into her,
Flew out with fire i'th tailes.
Soph. Methinks you erre 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. Ile be hangd first.
Petron. Give her a crab-tree cudgell.
Petru. So I will;
And after it a flock-bed for her bones.
And hard egges, till they brace her like a Drum,
She shall be pamperd with ____ 
She shall not know a stoole in ten moneths Gentlemen.
Soph. This must not be. Enter Jaques.
Jaq. Arme, arme, out with your weapons,
For all the women in the Kingdom's on ye; Enter Pedro.
They swarm like waspes, 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 Mistris, then ere turn'd taile 
At Sturbridge Faire; and I believe, as fiery.
Jaq. The forlorn-hope's led by a Tanners wife,
I know her by her hide; a desperate woman:
She flead her husband in her youth, and made (ther,
Raynes of his hide to ride the Parish. Take 'em all toge-
They are a genealogy of Jennets, gotten
And born thus, by the boysterous breath of husbands;
They serve sure, and are swift to catch occasion,
(I meane their foes, or husbands) by the fore-locks,
And there they hang like favours; cry they can, 
But more for Noble spight, then feare: and crying
Like the old Gyants that were foes to Heaven,
They heave ye stoole on stoole, and fling main Potlids
Like massie rocks, dart ladles, tossing Irons,
And tongs like Thunderbolts, till overlayd,
They fall beneath the waight; yet still aspiring
At those Emperious Codheads, that would tame 'em.
There's nere a one of these, the worst and weakest,
(Choose where you will) but dare attempt the raysing
Against the soveraigne peace of Puritans, 
A May-pole, and a Morris, maugre mainly
Their zeale, and Dudgeon-daggers: and yet more,
Dares plant a stand of battring Ale against 'em,
And drinke 'em out o'th Parish (tience.
Soph. Lo you fierce Petruchio, this comes of your impa-
Ped. There's one brought in the Beares against the Ca-
Of the Town, made it good, and fought 'em (nons
Jaq. Another, to her everlasting fame, erected
Two Ale-houses of ease: the quarter-sessions
Running against her roundly; in which businesse 
Two of the disannullers lost their night-caps:
A third stood excommunicate by the cudgell.
The Cunstable, to her eternall glory,
Drunke hard, and was converted, and she victor.
Ped. Then are they victualed with pies and puddings,
(The trappings of good stomacks) noble Ale
the true defendor, Sawsages, and smoak'd ones,
If need be, such as serve for Pikes; and Porke,
(Better the Jewes never hated: ) here and there
A bottle of Metheglin, a stout Britaine 
That wil stand to 'em; what else they want, they war for.
Petru. Come to councell,
Soph. Now you must grant conditions or the Kingdom
[end column one, begin column two page 106]
Will have no other talke but this.
Petron. Away then, and let's advise the best.
Soph: Why doe you tremble?
Mor. Have I liv'd thus long to be knockt o'th head,
With halfe a washing beetle? pray be wise sir.
Petru. Come, something Ile doe; but what it is I know
Soph. To councel then, and let's avoyd their follies.
Guard all the doors, or we shal not have a cloke left. Exe
Enter three mayds, at severall doors.
1. How goes the businesse, girles?
2. A foot, and faire.
3. If fortune favour us: away to your strength,
The Country forces are ariv'd; be gon we are discove-
1. Arme, and be valiant.
2. Think of our cause. 
3. Our iustice.
1. Tis sufficient. Exeunt.
Bowers line numbers: Act two, scene four 1-94, and Act two, scene five 1-5 (see note below).
[Act Two, Scene Six]
Petro. I am indifferent, though I must
[End page 106, catchword: Soph. ]
Soph. Yes we heare 'em. 
Jaq. They have got a stick of Fiddles, and they sirke
In wondrous waies, the two grand Capitanos, (it
(They brought the Auxiliary Regiments)
Daunce with their coats tuckt up to their bare breeches,
And bid them kisse 'em, that's the burden;
They have got Metheglin, and audacious Ale,
And talke like Tyrants.
Petron. How knowest thou?
Jaq. I peep't in Song !
At a loose Lansket. 
Petron. A Song, pray silence. All the women above.
Mor. They look out.
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?
Soph. She has drunk hard, mark her hood
Cun. You are ____
Soph. Learuedly drunk, Ile 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 comely, and couragious.
Petru. Wel I have so.
Cun. And to the comfort of distressed damsels,
Weomen 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 Mistris.
Cit. Forward sister.
Petru. Do you mean to treat of all these ?
Cit. Who shall let her?
Petro. Doe you heare, Velvet-hood, we come not now
To heare your doctrine.
Cunt. For the first, I take it,
It doth divide it selfe into seven branches.
Petru. Harke you good Maria, 
Have you got a Catechiser here?
Tra. Good zeale.
Soph. Good three pil'd predication, will you peace,
And heare the cause we come for?
Cunt. Yes Bob-tailes
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. Sweare forward sister.
Cit. By all that's cordiall, in this place we'l 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
[end column one, begin column two page 107]
His liberall wil, and march off with conditions
Noble, and worth her selfe.
Cun. She shall Tom Tilers, 
And brave ones too; My hood shal make a hearse-cloth,
And I lie under it, like Jone o Gaunt,
Ere I goe lesse, my Distaffe stucke up by me,
For the eternall Trophee 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 Armes 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 ancient chambering: next that
The Symbols of our secrecy, silke Stockings,
Hew of our heeles; our petticotes of Armes
Teare of our bodies, and our Bodkins breake
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 returne againe
Into our former titles, Dayry 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. Heare 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 goodnesse 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 blesse a jade, that stumbles with me.
How are the Articles?
Liv. This is for you sir; 
And I shal 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 heare you whore.
Liv. It must be his then sir,
For need wil then compell 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 wil: continuall moneys,
Company, and all the house at her dispose;
No tongue to say, why is this? or whether wil 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 twousand 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 shal by no man be importun'd.
[Signature Ooooo o, end page 107, catchword: This, EEBO 310/473]
This whole moneth yet, to marry.
Petron. This is monstrous.
Petru. This shall be done, Ile humor her awhile:
If nothing but repentance, and undoing
Can win her love, Ile make a shift for one. 
Soph. When ye are once a bed, all these conditions
Lie under your own seale.
Mar. Do yo like 'em?
And by that faith I gave you fore the Priest
Ile ratifie 'em
Cun. Stay, what pledges?
Mar. No, Ile 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
Soph. That the two valiant women that command here 
Shall have a Supper made em, and a large one,
And liberall entertainment without grudging,
And pay for all their Souldiers.
Petru. That shall be too;
And if a tun of Wine wil serve to pay 'em,
They shall have justice: I ordaine ye all
Tra. Then we shall have sport boyes.
Mar. We'l meet you in the Parlour.
Petru. Ne'r looke sad sir, for I will doe it. 
Soph. There's no danger in't.
Petru. For Livia's Article, you shall observe it,
I have tyde my selfe.
Petron. I wil.
Petru. Along then: now
Either I break, or this stiffe plant must bow. Exeunt.
Bowers line numbers: Act two, scene six 1-173
Actus tertius, Scæna prima.
Enter Tranio, and Rowland.
Tra. Come, you shall take my connsell.
Row. I shall hang first. 
Ile no more love, that's certaine, tis a bane,
(Next that they poyson Rats with) the most mortall:
No, I thank Heaven, I have got my sleep again,
And now begin to write sence; I can walk ye
A long howre in my chamber like a man,
And think of something that may better me;
Some serious point of Learning, or my state;
No more ay-mees, and miseries Tranio
Come neer my brain. Ile 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 then his hornes doe;
And firke 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 heare me:)
Under the Sun (reckon the masse of follies
Crept into th'world with man) so desperate,
[end column one, begin column two page 108]
So madde, so sencelesse, poor and base, so wretched,
Roguy, and scurvy.
Tra. VVhether wilt thou Rowland? 
Row. As tis to be in love.
Tra. And why for vertue sake?
Row. And why for vertues sake? do'st thou not con-
Tra. No by my troth. (ceive me?
Row. Pray then, and hartely
For fear thou fall into 't: I'le tell thee why too,
(For I have hope to save thee) when thou lovest,
And first beginst to worship the gilt calfe,
Imprimis, thou hast lost thy gentry,
And like a prentice flung away thy freedom. 
Forthwith thou art a slave.
Tra. That's a new Doctrine.
Row. Next thou art no more man.
Tra. VVhat then?
Row. A Fryppery;
Nothing but brayded haire, and penny riband,
Glove, garter, ring, rose, or at best a swabber,
If thou canst love so neer to keep thy making,
Yet thou wilt loose thy language.
Tra. VVhy. 
Row. O Tranio,
Those things in love, ne'r talke as we do,
Row. No without doubt, they sigh and shake the head,
Aud 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 foolefirst, or you cannot) 
Such gibbrish; such believe me, I protest Sweet,
And oh deer Heavens, in which such constellations
Raigne 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 ha'st 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. VVilt thou Rowland,
Certaine ne'r love again?
Row. I think so, certain,
And if I be not dead drunk, I shall keep it.
Fra. Tell me but this; what do'st thou think of women?
Row. VVhy as I think of fiddles, they delight me,
Till their strings break.
Fra. VVhat strings?
Row. Their modesties, 
Faithes, vowes and maidenheads, for they are like Kits
They have but foure strings to 'em.
Tra. VVhat 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'le work all meanes I can to reconcile ye:
Row. Do, do, give me the money. 
Row. VVork Tranio.
Tra. You shall go sometimes where she is.
Row. Yes straight.
This is the first good I ere got by woman.
[End page 108, catchword: Tra.]
Tra. You would think it strange now, if an other
As good as hers, say better. (beauty
Tra. Conceive me,
This is no point o'th wager. 
Row. That's all one. (you.
Tra. Love you as much, or more, then she now hates
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 an other 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 shee 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. Shal't see me Tranio
A monstrous merry man now: let's to the Wedding,
And as we go, tell me the generall hurry
Of these madde wenches, and their workes.
Tra. I will.
Row. And do thy worst.
Tra. Something i'le do.
Row. Do Tranio. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 1-93. ]
Ped. A paire of stocks bestride 'em, are
[end column one, begin column two page 109]
Jaq. And how they tumbled, Pedro, didst thou marke
The Countrey Cavaliero?
Ped. Out upon her,
How she turn'd down the Bagget?
Jaq. I that sunke her.
Ped. That drink was wel put to her; what a sober salt
When the chaire fel, she fetchd, with her heels upward?
Jaq. And what a piece of Landskip she discoverd?
Ped. Didst mark her, when her hood fel 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 faine she would have drawn on Sophocles
To come aboord, and how she simperd it--
Ped. I warrant her, she has been a worthy striker.
Iaq. I'th heat of Summer there had been some hope
Ped. Hang her. (on't.
Jaq. She offerd him a Harry-groat, and belcht out,
Her stomack being blown with Ale, such Courtship,
Upon my life has givn him twenty stooles since: 
Believe my calculation, these old women
When they are tippled, and a little heated
Are like new wheels, theyl roare you all the Town ore
Till they be greasd.
Ped. The City Cinque-pace
Dame tosse and Butter, had he Bob too?
But she was sullen drunk, and given to filching,
I see her offer at a Spoon; my master
I do not like his looke, I feare has fasted 
For all this preparation; lets steale by him. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 1-49. ]
[Act Three, Scene Three]
Enter Petruchio, and
[End page, catchword: I would, EEBO 311/473]
I would to her Chamber-maid, and in her hearing
Begin her such a huntes-up.
Soph. Then she started?
Petru. No more then I do now; marry she answered
If I were so dispos'd, she could not help it; 
But there was one cal'd Iaques, 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 faire good night,
And so good morrow, and a kisse or two
To close my stomach, for her vow had seald it,
And she would keep it constant.
Soph. Stay ye, stay ye, 
Was she thus when you woo'd her?
Petru. Nothing Sophocles,
More keenely eager, I was oft afraid
She had bin light, and easy, she would showre
Her kisses so upon me.
Soph. Then I fear
An other spoke's i'th wheele.
Petru. Now thou hast found me,
There gnawes my devill, Sophocles, O patience
Preserve me; that I make her not example 
By some unworthy way; as fleaing her,
Boyling, or making verjuce, drying her.
Soph. I hear her.
Petru. Mark her then, and see the heire
Of spight and prodigality, she has studied
A way to begger's both, and by this hand Maria at the
She shall be if I live a Doxy. dore, and Servant
Soph. Fy Sir. and woman.
Mar. I do not like that dressing, tis too poor,
Let me have six gold laces, broad and massy, 
And betwixt ev'ry lace a rich embroydry,
Line the gown through with plush, perfum'd, and
All the sleeves down with pearle. (purffle
Petru. What think you Sophocles.
In what point stands my state now?
Mar. For those hangings
Let 'em be carried where I gave appointment,
They are too base for my use, and bespeak
New pieces of the civill wars of France,
Let 'em be large and lively, and all silke work, 
The borders gold.
Soph. I marry sir, this cuts it.
Mar. That fourteen yardes of satten give my woman,
I do not like the colour, tis too civill:
Ther's too much silk i'th lace too; tell the Dutchman
That brought the mares, he must with all speed send me
An other suit of horses, and by all meanes
Ten cast of Hawkes for 'th River, I much care not
What price they beare, so they be sound, and flying,
For the next winter, I am for the Country; 
And mean to take my pleasure; wher's the horse man?
Petru. She meanes to ride a great horse.
Soph. With a side sadle? (month
Petru. Yes, and shee'l run a tilt within this twelve-
Mar. To morrow Ile begin to learne, but pray sir
Have a great care he be an easy doer,
Twill spoyle a Scholler els.
Soph. An easy doer,
Did you hear that?
Petru. Yes, I shal meet her morals 
Er it be long I fear not.
Mar. O good morrow.
Soph. Good morrow Lady, how is't now.
[end column one, begin column two page 110]
Mar. Faith sickly,
This house stands in an ill ayre.
Petru. Yet more charges?
Mar. Subject to rots, and hewms; out on't, tis nothing
But a tild fog.
Petru. What think of the Lodge then?
Mar. I like the seate, but tis too little, Sophocles 
Let me have thy opinion, thou hast judgement.
Petru. Tis very well.
Mar. What if I pluck it down,
And built a square upon it, with two courts
Still rising from the entrance?
Petru. And i'th midst
A Colledge for yong Scolds.
Mar. And to the Southward
Take in a garden of some twenty acres,
And cast it off the Italian fashion, hanging. 
Petru. And you could cast your self so too; pray Lady
Will not this cost much money?
Mar. Some five thousand,
Say six: Ile have it battel'd too.
Petru. And gilt; Maria,
This is a fearfull course you take pray think on't,
You are a woman now, a wife, and his
That must in honesty, and justice look for
Some due obedience from you.
Mar. That bare word 
Shall cost you many a pound more, build upon't;
Tell me o due obedience? what's a husband?
What are we married for, to carry sumpters?
Are we not one peece with you, and as worthy
Our own intentions, as you yours?
Petru. Pray hear me.
Mar. Take two small drops of water, equall weigh'd,
Tell me which is the heaviest, and which ought
First to discend in duty?
Petru. You mistake me; 
I urge not service from you, nor obedience
In way of duty, but of love, and oredit;
All I expect is but a noble care
Of what I have brought you, and of what I am,
And what our name may be
Mar. That's in my making. Petru. Tis true it is so.
Mar. Yes it is Petruchio,
For there was never man without our molding,
Without our stampe upon him, and our justice,
Left any thing three ages after him 
Good, and his own.
Soph. Good Lady understand him.
Mar. I do too much, sweet Sophocles, he's one
Of a most spightfull self condition,
Never at peace with any thing but age,
That has no teeth left to return his anger:
A Bravery dwels in his blood yet, of abusing
His first good wife; he's sooner fire then powder,
And sooner mischief.
Petru. If I be so sodain 
Do not you fear me?
Mar. No nor yet care for you,
And if it may be lawfull, I defie you:
Petru. Do's this become you now?
Mar. It shall become me.
Petru. Thou disobedient, weak, vain-glorious woman,
Were I but half so wilfull, as thou pightfull,
I should now drag thee to thy duty.
Mar. Drag me?
Petru. But I am friends again: take all your pleasure. 
Mar. Now you perceive him Sophocles.
[End page 110, catchword: Petru.]
Petru. I love thee
Above thy vanity, thou faithlesse creature.
Mar. Would I had been so happy when I married,
But to have met an honest man like thee,
For I am sure thou art good, I know thou art honest,
A hansome hurtlesse man, a loving man,
Though never a penny with him; and those eyes,
That face, and that true heart; weare this for my sake,
And when thou thinkst upon me pity me: 
I am cast away, Exit Mar.
Soph. Why how now man?
Petru. Pray leave me,
And follow your advices.
Soph. The man's jealous:
Petru. I shall find a time ere it be long, to aske you
One or two foolish questions.
Soph. I shall answer
As wel as I am able, when you call me:
If she mean true, tis but a little killing, 
And if I do not venture its ____
Farewel sir. Exit Soph.
Petru. Pray farewell. Is there no keeping
A wife to one mans use? no wintering
These cattell without straying? tis hard dealing,
Very hard dealing, Gentlemen, strange dealing:
Now in the name of madnesse, what star raign'd,
What dog-star, bull, or bear-star, when I married
This second wife, this whirlwind, that takes all
Within her compasse? was I not wel warnd, 
(I thought I had, and I believe I know it,)
And beaten to repentance in the daies
Of my first doting? had I not wife enough
To turn my love too? did I want vexation,
Or any speciall care to kill my heart?
Had I not ev'ry morning a rare breakfast,
Mixt with a learned Lecture of ill language,
Louder then Tom o' Lincoln; and at dinner,
A dyet of the same dish? was there evening
That ere past over us, without thou knave, 
Or thou whore, for digestion? had I ever
A pull at this same poor sport men run mad for,
But like a cur I was faine to shew my teeth first,
And almost worry her? and did Heaven forgive me,
And take this Serpent from me? and am I
Keeping tame devils now again? my heart akes;
Something I must do speedily: Ile die,
If I can hansomely, for that's the way
To make a Rascall of her; I am sick,
And Ile go very neer it, but Ile perish. Exit. 
[Bowers line numbers 1-171. ]
[Act Three, Scene Four]
Livia, Byancha, Tranio, and Rowland.
[end column one, begin column two page 111]
Tra. Fie Rowland.
Row. You cannot fie me out a hundred pound
With this poore plot: yet, let me nere see day more,
If something do not struggle strangely in me. 
Bya. Young man, let me talk with you.
Row. Wel young woman.
Bya. This was your Mistris once.
Bya. Are ye honest?
I see you are young, and hansome.
Rew. I am honest. (judgement
Bya. Why that's wel said: and there's no doubt your
Is good enough, and strong enough to tell you
Who are your foes, and friends: why did you leave her? 
Row. She made a puppy of me.
Bya. Be that granted:
She must doe so sometimes, and oftentimes;
Love were too serious else.
Row. A witty woman.
Bya. Had you lov'd me____
Row. I would I had.
Bya. And deerly;
And I had lov'd you so: you may love worse sir,
But that is not materiall. 
Row. I shal loose.
Bya. Some time or other for variety
I should have cal'd you foole, or boy, or bid you
Play with the Pages: but have lov'd you stil,
Out of all question, and extreamly too;
You are a man made to be loved:
Row. This woman
Either abuses me, or loves me deadly.
Bya. Ile tell you one thing, if I were to choose
A husband to mine own mind, I should think 
One of your mothers making would content me,
For o'my conscience she makes good ones.
Ile leave you to your commendations:
I am in again, The divel take their tongues.
Bya. You shall not goe.
Row. I wil: yet thus far Livia,
Your sorrow may induce me to forgive you,
But never love again; if I stay longer,
I have lost two hundred pound. 
Liv. Good sir, but thus much--
Tra. Turn if thou beest a man.
Liv. But one kisse of you;
One parting kisse, and I am gone too.
I shall kisse fifty pound away at this clap:
We'l have one more, and then farewel.
Bya. Wel, go thy waies, thou bearst a kind heart with
Tra. H'as made a stand. (thee. 
Bya. A noble, brave yonng fellow,
Worthy a wench indeed.
Row. I wil: I wil not. Exit Rowland.
Tra. He's gone: but shot agen; play you but your part,
And I will keep my promise: forty Angels
In fair gold Lady: wipe your eyes: he's yours
If I have any wit.
Liv. Ile pay the forfeit.
Bya. Come then, lets see your sister, how she fares now,
After her skirmish: and be sure, Moroso 
Be kept in good hand; then all's perfect, Livia.
[End page 111, catchword: Scæna, EEBO 312/473]
[Bowers line numbers 1-56. ]
[Act Three, Scene Five]
Jaques and Pedro.
Liv. Be of good comfort sister.
[End column one, begin column two page 112]
Petron. Pray sir, pray.
Petru. I am as wel as you are, goodman puppy.
Mar. Pray have patience,
You shall want nothing sir.
Petru. I want a cudgell,
And thee, thou wickednesse. 
Petron. He speakes wel enough.
Mar. Had ever a strong heart sir.
Petru. Wil ye heare me?
First be pleas'd
To think I know ye all, and can distinguish
Ev'ry mans severall voyce: you that spoke first,
I know my father in law; the other Tranio,
And I heard Sophocles; the last, pray marke me,
Is my dam'd wife Maria:
If any man misdoubt me for infected, 
There is mine arme, let any man looke on't.
Enter Doctor and Pothecary.
Doct. Save ye Gentlemen.
Petron: O welcome Doctor,
Ye come in happy time; pray your opinion,
What think you of his pulse?
Doct. It beats with busiest,
And shews a general inflammation,
Which is the symptome of a pestilent feaver,
Take twenty ounces frow him. 
Petru. Take a foole;
Take an ounce from mine arme, and Doctor Deuz-ace,
Ile make a close-stoole of your Velvet costard.
____ Gentlemen, doe ye make a may-game on me?
I tell ye once againe, I am as sound,
As wel, as wholsome, and as sensible,
As any of ye all: Let me out quickly,
Or as I am a man, Ile beat the wals down,
And the first thing I light upon shall pay for't.
Exit Doctor and Pothecary. 
Petro. Nay we'l go with you Doctor.
Mar. Tis the safest;
I saw the tokens sir.
Petro. Then there is but one way.
Petru. Wil it please you open?
Tra. His fit grows stronger still.
Mar. Let's save our selves sir,
He's past all worldly cure.
Petro. Friends do your office.
And what he wants, if money, love, or labour, 
Or any way may win it, let him have it.
Farewell, and pray my honest friends -- Exeunt.
Petru. Why Rascals,
Friends, Gentlemen, thou beastly wife, Jaques;
None heare me? who at the doore there?
1 Watch. Thinke I pray sir,
Whether you are going, and prepare your selfe.
2 Watch. These idle thoughts disturbe you, the good
Your wife has taken care you shall want nothing. 
Petru. Shall I come out in quiet? answer me,
Or shall I charge a fowling piece, and make
Mine own way; two of ye I cannot misse,
If I misse three; ye come here to assault me.
I am as excellent wel, I thank Heav'n for't,
And have as good a stomacke at this instant --
2 Watch. That's an ill signe.
1 Watch. He draws on; he's a dead man,
Petru. And sleep as soundly; wil ye looke upon me?
1 Watch. Do you want Pen and Inke? while you have 
Settle your state. (sence sir,
Petru. Sirs, I am wel, as you are;
[End page 112, catchword: Or]
Or any Rascall living.
2 Watch. would you were sir.
Petru. Look to your selves, and if you love your lives,
Open the doore, and fly me, for I shoot else;
____Ile shoot, and presently, chain-bullets;
And under foure I will not kill.
1 Watch. Let's quit him,
It may be it is trick: he's dangerous. 
2 Watch. The devill take the hinmost, I cry. Exit watch
Enter Petruchio with a piece. running.
Petru. Have among ye;
The doore shall open too, Ile have a faire shoot;
Are ye all gone? tricks in my old daies, crackers
Put now upon me? and by Lady Green-sleeves?
Am I grown so tame after all my triumphs?
But that I should be thought mad, if I rail'd
As much as they deserve against these women,
I would now rip up from the primitive cuckold, 
All their arch-villanies, and all their dobles,
Which are more then a hunted Hare ere thought on:
When a man has the fairest, and the sweetest
Of all their sex, and as he thinks the noblest,
What has he then? and Ile speake modestly,
He has a Quartern-ague, that shall shake
All his estate to nothing; never cur'd,
Nor never dying; H'as a ship to venture
His fame, and credit in, which if he man not
With more continuall labour then a Gally 
To make her tith, either she grows a Tumbrell
Not worth the cloth she weares; or springs more leakes
Then all the fame of his posterity
Can ever stop againe: I could raile twenty daies;
Out on 'em hedge-hogs,
He that shal touch 'em, has a thousand thorns
Runs through his fingers: If I were unmarried,
I would do any thing below repentance,
Any base dunhill slavery; be a hang-man,
Ere I would be a husband: O the thousand, 
Thousand, ten thousand waies they have to kil us!
Some fall with too much stringing of the Fiddles,
And those are fooles; some, that they are not suffer'd,
And those are Maudlin-lovers: some, like Scorpions,
They poyson with their tailes, and those are Martyrs;
Some die with doing good, those Benefactors,
And leave 'em land to leap away: some few,
For those are rarest, they are said to kill
With kindnesse, and faire usage; but what they are
My Catologue discovers not: onely tis thought 
They are buried in old wals with their heeles upward.
I could raile twenty daies together now.
Ile seek 'em out, and if I have not reason,
And very sensible, why this was done,
Ile go a birding yet, and some shall smart for't. Exit.
[Bowers line numbers 1-144. ]
Actus Quartus. Scæna prima.
Enter Moroso and Petronius.
Mor. That I do love her, is without all
[end column one, begin column two page 113]
For all my kindnesse to her.
Petron. How you take it?
Thou get a wench, thou get dozen night-caps;
Wouldst have her come, and lick thee like a calfe,
And blow thy nose, and busse thee?
Mor. Not so neither. 
Petron. What wouldst thou have her do?
Mor. Do as she should do;
Put on a clean smock, and to Church, and marry,
And then to bed a Gods name, this is faire play,
And keeps the Kings peace; let her leave her bobs,
I have had too many of them, and her quillets,
She is as nimble that way as an Eele;
But in the way she ought to me especially,
A sow of Lead is swifter.
Petron Quoat your griefes down. 
Mor. Give faire quarter, I am old and crasie,
And subject to much fumbling, I confesse it;
Yet something I would have that's warme, to hatch me:
But understand me I would have it so,
I buy not more repentance in the bargaine
Then the ware's worth I have; if you allow me
Worthy your Son-in-law, and your allowance,
Do it a way of credit; let me show so,
And not be troubled in my visitations,
With blows, and bitternesse, and down right railings, 
As if we were to couple like two cats,
With clawing, add loud clamour:
Petron. Thou fond man
Hast thou forgot the Ballard, crabbed age,
Can May and Ianuary match together,
And nev'r a storm between 'em? say she abuse thee,
Put case she doe.
Petron. Nay, believe she do's.
Mor. I doe believe she do's. 
Petron. And div'lishly:
Art thou a whit the worse?
Mor. That's not the matter,
I know, being old, tis fit I am abus'd;
I know tis hansome, and I know moreover
I am to love her for't.
Petron. Now you come to me.
Mor. Nay more then this; I find too, and finde certain,
What Gold I have, Pearle, Bracelets, Rings, or Owches,
Or what she can desire, Gowns, Petticotes, 
Wastcotes, Enbroydered-stockings, Scarffs, Cals, Feathers
Hats, five pound Garters, Muffs, Masks, Ruffs, & Ribands,
I am to give her for't.
Petron. Tis right, you are so.
Mor. But when I have done all this, and think it duty,
Is't requisit an other bore my nostrils?
Riddle me that.
Petron. Go get you gone, and dreame
She's thine within these two daies, for she is so;
The boy's beside the saddle: get warm broths, 
And feed apace; think not of worldly businesse,
It cools the blood; leave off your tricks, they are hateful,
And meere forerunners of the ancient measures;
Contrive your beard o'th top cut like Verdugoes;
It shows you would be wise, and burn your night-cap,
It looks like halfe a winding-sheet, and urges
From a young wench nothing but cold repentance:
You may eate Onyons, so you'l not be lavish.
Mor. I am glad of that.
Petron. They purge the blood, and quicken, 
But after 'em, conceive me, sweep your mouth,
And where there wants a tooth, stick in a clove.
[End page 113, signature Ppppp; catchword: Mor., EEBO 313/473]
Mor. Shall I hope once againe, say't,
Petro. You shall sir:
And you shall have your hope. Enter Byancha
Moro. Why there's a match then. and Tranio.
Byan. You shall not finde me wanting, get you gon.
Here's the old man, he'l think you are plotting else
Something against his new Sonne. Exit Tranio.
Moro. Fare ye well sir. Exit Moroso. 
Petro. This is the spirit, that inspires
[End column one, begin column two page 114]
I shall be with you at a turne hence forward. 
By. Get you a posset too; and so good ev'n sir.
Iaq. And as I told your worship, all the
[End page 114, catchword: Mar. ]
Mar. His unkinde dealing, which was worst of all,
In sending, who knowes whether, all the plate,
And all the houshold-stuffe, had I not crost it,
By a great providence, and my friends assistance
Which he will thanke me one day for: alas, 
I could have watch'd as well as they, have serv'd him
In any use, better, and willinger.
The Law commands me to doe it, love commands me.
And my own duty charges me.
Petru. Heav'n blesse me.
And now I have said my Prayers, Ile goe to her:
Are you a wife for any man?
Mar. For you Sir.
If I were worse, I were better; That you are well,
At least, that you appeare so, I thanke heaven, 
Long may it hold and that you are here, I am glad too,
But that you have abus'd me wretchedly,
And such a way that shames the name of husband,
Such a malicious mangy way, so mingled,
(Never looke strangely on me, I dare tell you)
With breach of honesty, care, kindnesse, manners.
Petru. Holla, you kick too fast.
Mar. Was I a stranger?
Or had I vow'd perdition to your person?
Am I not married to you, tell me that? 
Petru. I would I could not tell you.
Mar. Is my presence,
The stock I come of, which is worshipfull,
If I should say right worshipfull, I ly'd not,
My Grandsire was a Knight.
Petru. O'the Shire?
Mar. A Souldier,
Which none of all thy Family e're heard off,
But one conductor of thy name, a Grasier
That ran away with pay: or am I grown 
(Because I have been a little peevish to you,
Onely to try your temper) such a dogge-latch
I could not be admitted to your presence?
Petru. If I endure this, hang me.
Mar. And two deaths heads,
Two Harry Groats, that had their faces worne,
Almost their names away too.
Petru. Now heare me.
For I will stay no longer.
Mar. This you shall: 
How ever you shall think to flatter me,
For this offence, which no submission
Can ever mediate for, you'l finde it so,
What ever you shall doe by intercession,
What you can offer, what your Land can purchase,
What all your friends, or families can win,
Shall be but this, not to forsweare your knowledge,
But ever to forbeare it: now your will sir.
Petru. Thou art the subtlest woman I think living,
I am sure the lewdest; now be still, and marke me; 
Were I but any way addicted to the devill,
I should now think I had met a play-fellow
To profit by, and that way the most learned
That ever taught to murmur. Tell me thou,
Thou most poor, paltry spitefull whore: doe you cry?
Ile make you roare, before I leave.
Mar. Your pleasure.
Petru. Was it not sinne enough, thou Fruiterer
Full of the fall thou eat'st: thou devils broker,
Thou Seminary of all sedition, 
Thou sword of veng'ance, with a thred hung o're us,
Was it not sinne enough, and wickednes
In full abundance? was it not vexation
[End column one, begin column two page 115]
At all points, cap a pe? nay, I shall pinch you,
Thus like a rotten rascall to abuse
The name of heaven, the tye of marriage,
The honour of thy friends; the expectation
Of all that thought thee vertuous, with rebellion,
Childish and base rebellion, but continuing.
After forgivenesse too, and worse, your mischiefe, 
And against him setting the hope of heaven by,
And the deere reservation of his honour
Nothing above ground could have won to hate thee:
Well goe thy wayes.
Petru. You shall heare me out first:
What punishment mai'st thou deserve, thou thing,
Thou Idle thing of nothing, thou pull'd Primrose,
That two houres after, art a weed, and wither'd,
For this last flourish on me? am I one 
Selected out of all the husbands living,
To be so ridden by a Tit of ten pence,
Am I so blind and Bed-rid? I was mad,
And had the Plague, and no man must come neere me,
I must be shut up, and my substance bezel'd,
And an old woman watch me.
Mar. Well sir, well,
You may well glory in't.
Petru. And when it comes to opening, 'tis my plot,
I must undoe my selfe forsooth: do'st heare me? 
If I should beat thee now, as much may be,
Do'st thou not well deserve it, o' thy conscience,
Do'st thou not cry, come beat me?
Mar. I defie you.
And my last loving teares farwell: the first stroke,
The very first you give me if you dare strike,
Try me, and you shall finde it so, for ever
Never to be recall'd: I know you love me,
Mad till you have enjoy'd me; I doe turne
Utterly from you, and what man I meet first 
That has but spirit to deserve a favour,
Let him beare any shape, the worse the better,
Shall kill you, and enjoy me; what I have said
About your foolish sicknesse, e're you have me
As you would have me, you shall sweare, is certaine,
And challenge any man, that dares deny it;
And in all companies approve my actions,
And so farwell for this time. Exit Mar.
Petru. Grief goe with thee,
If there be any witchcrafts, herbes, or potions, 
Saying my Prayers back-ward, Fiends, or Fayries
That can againe unlove me, I am made. Exit.
[Bowers 4.1 line numbers 1-107,
and 4.2 line numbers 1-159. ]
[Act Four, Scene Two]
Tra. Mistresse, you must doe it.
[End page 115, signature Ppppp 2; catchword: Tra., EEBO 314/473]
Tra. If I faile you
Now I have found the way, use Marshall Law
And cut my head off with a hand Saw: 
By. Wel sir.
Petronius and Moroso I'le see sent for
About your businesse; goe.
Tra. I am gone. Exit Tra.
By. Ho Livia. Enter Livia.
Liv. Who's that?
By. A friend of yours, Lord how you looke now,
As if you had lost a Carrick.
Liv. O Byancha.
I am the most undone, unhappy woman. 
By. Be quiet wench, thou shalt be done, and done,
And done, and double done, or all shall split for't,
No more of these minc'd passions, they are mangy,
And ease thee of nothing, but a little wind,
An apple will doe more: thou fear'st Moroso.
Liv. Even as I feare the Gallowes.
By. Keepe thee there still.
And you love Rowland? say.
Liv. If I say not
I am sure I lye. 
By. What would'st thou give that woman,
In spight of all his anger, and thy feare,
And all thy Fathers policy, that could
Clap ye within these two nights quietly
Into a Bed together?
By. Why fairely,
At half sword man and wife: now the red blood comes,
I marry now the matters chang'd.
Liv. Byancha, 
Me thinks you should not mock me.
By. Mock a pudding.
I speake good honest English, and good meaning.
Liv. I should not be ungratefull to that woman.
By. I know thou would'st not, follow but my Councell
And if thou hast him not, despight of fortune
Let me nev'r know a good night more; you must
Be very sick o'th instant.
Liv. Well, what follows?
By. And in that sicknesse send for all your friends, 
Your Father, and your feavor old Moroso,
And Rowland shall be there too.
Liv What of these?
By. Doe you not twitter yet? of this shall follow
That which shall make thy heart leape, and thy lips
Venture as many kisses, as the Merchants
Doe dollars to the East-Indies. you shall know all,
But first walke in, and practise, pray be sick.
Liv. I doe beleeve you: and I am sick.
By. Doe 
To bed then, come, Ile send away your Servants
Post for your Foole, and Father; and good fortune,
As we meane honesty, now strike an up-shot. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 4. 3. 1-50. ]
[Act Four, Scene Three]
Nay, on my conscience, I have lost my money,
[End column one, begin column two page 116]
Allow'd you Tranio, as well as I
Have to avoid 'em feare:
Tra. No, on my word sir
I deale directly with you. Enter Servant.
Row. How now fellow,
Whither Post you so fast?
Serv. O sir my Master
Pray did you see my Master?
Row. Why your Master? 
Serv. Sir his Jewell.
Row. With the gilded Button?
Serv. My pretty Mistresse Livia.
Row. What of her?
Serv. Is falne sick o'th suddaine.
Row. How o'th sullens?
Serv. O'th suddaine sir, I say, very sick : apples.
Row. It seemes she hath got the toothach with raw
Serv. It seemes you have got the headach, fare you
You did not see my Master? (well sir. 
Row. Who told you so?
Tra. No, no, he did not see him.
Row. Farewell blew bottle. Exit Servant.
What should her sicknesse be?
Tra. For you it may be.
Row. Yes when my braines are out, I may beleeve it,
Never before I am sure: yet I may see her
'Twill be a point of honesty:
Tra. It will so.
Row. It may be not too: you would faine be fingring 
This old sinne-offring of two hundred, Tranio,
How daintily, and cunningly you drive me
Up like a Deere to'th toyle, yet I may leape it,
And what's the woodman then?
Tra. A looser by you.
Speake will you go or not? to me 'tis equall.
Row. Come what goes lesse?
Tra. Nay not a penny Rowland.
Row. Shall I have liberty of conscience
Which by interpretation, is ten kisses? 
Hang me if I affect her: yet it may be,
This whorson manners will require a strugling,
Of two and twenty, or by'r-Lady thirty.
Tra. By'r-lady Ile require my wager then,
For if you kisse so often, and no kindnesse,
I have lost my speculation, i'le allow you ___
Row. Speake like a Gamster now.
Tra. It may be two.
Row. Under a dozen Tranio'ther's no setting,
You shall have forty shillings, winck at small faults. 
Say I take twenty, come, by all that's honest
I doe it but to vex her.
Tra. Ile no by-lowes.
If you can love her doe, if you can hate her,
Or any else that loves you.
Row. Prethee Tranio.
Tra. Why farewell twenty pound, twill not undoe me;
You have my resolution.
Row. And your money,
Which since you are so stubborne, if I forfeit, 
Make me a Jack o' Lent, and breake shins
For untag'd points and Compters: Ile goe with you,
But if thou gett'st a penny by the bargaine;
A parting kisse is lawfull?
Tra. I allow it. (bargaine:
Row. Knock out my braines with Apples; yet a
Tra. I tell you, i'le no bargaines; win, and weare it.
Row. Thou art the strangest fellow.
Tra. That's all one.
[End page 116, catchword: Row. ]
Row. Along then, twenty pound more if thou dar'st, 
I give her not a good word.
Tra. Not a Penny. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 4. 4. 1-56. ]
[Act Four, Scene Four]
Petru. Prethee, entreat her come, I will
not trouble her
[end column one, begin column two page 117]
[page incorrectly numbered 107 in folio]
Of one of those that multiply i'th Suburbs
For single money, and as durtily:
If any speake to her, first she whistles,
And then begins her compasse with her fingers,
And points to what she would have.
Petru. What new waye's this? 
Ped. There came in Master Sophocles,
Petru. And what
Did Master Sophocles when he came in?
Get my Truncks ready sirha, i'le be gone straight.
Ped. He's here to tell you Enter Sophocles.
She's horne mad Iaques.
Soph. Call ye this a woman?
Petru. Yes sir, she is a woman,
Soph. Sir, I doubt it.
Petru. I had thought you had make experience, 
Soph. Yes I did so.
And almost with my life.
Petru. You rid too fast sir.
Soph. Pray be not mistaken: by this hand
Your wife's as chaste, and honest as a virgin,
For any thing I know: 'tis true she gave me
Petru. For rutting.
Soph. You are much deceiv'd still,
Beleeve me, I never kist her since, and now 
Coming in visitation, like a friend,
I thinke she is mad sir, suddainly she started,
And snatch'd the Ring away, and drew her knife out,
To what intent I know not.
Petru. Is this certaine?
Soph. As I am here sir.
Petru. I beleeve you honest. Enter Maria.
And pray continue so.
Soph. She comes.
Petru. Now Damsell, 
What will your beauty doe, if I forsake you?
Doe you deale by signes, and tokens? as I ghesse then,
You'l walke abroad, this Sommer, and catch Captaines,
Or hire a peece of holy ground i'th Suburbs,
And keepe a neast of Nuns?
Soph. O doe not stir her!
You see in what a case she is?
Petru. She is dogged,
And in a beastly case I am sure: Ile make her
If she have any tongue, yet tatle Sophocles 
Prethee observe this woman seriously,
And eye her well, and when thou hast done, but tell me
(For thou hast understanding) in what case
My sence was, when I chose this thing.
Soph. Ile tell you
I have seene a sweeter ____
Petru. An hundred times cry oysters.
Ther's a poore Begger wench about Black-Fryers
Runs on her breech may be an Empresse to her.
Soph. Nay, now you are too bitter. 
Petru. Nev'r a whit sir:
Ile tell thee woman; for now I have day to see thee,
And all my wits about me, and I speake
Not out of passion neither (leave your mumping)
I know you're well enough: Now would I give
A million but to vex her: when I chose thee
To make a Bedfellow, I tooke more trouble,
Then twenty Termes can come too, such a cause,
Of such a title, and so everlasting
That Adams Genealogie may be ended 
Ere any law find thee: I tooke a Leprosie,
Nay worse, the plague, nay worse yet, a possession
[End page 117, catchword: and, EEBO 315/473]
And had the devill with thee, if not more:
And yet worse, was a beast, and like a beast
Had my reward, a Jade to fling my fortunes;
For who that had but reason to distinguish
The light from darknesse, wine from water, hunger
From full saciety, and Fox from ferne bush
That would have married thee?
Soph. She is not so ill. 
Petru. She's worse then I dare think of: she's so lewd,
No Court is strong enough to bear her cause,
She hath neither manners, honesty, behavour,
Wife-hood, nor woman-hood, nor any morall
Can force me think she had a mother, no
I do believe her stedfastly, and know her
To be a woman-Woolfe by transmigration,
Her first forme was a Ferrets undergrounde,
She kils the memories of men: not yet?
Soph. Do you think she's sensible of this? 
Petru. I care not,
Be what she will: the pleasure I take in her,
Thus I blow off, the care I took to love her,
Like this point I unty, and thus I loose it,
The husband I am to her, thus I sever:
My vanity farwell: yet, for you have bin
So neer me as to bear the name of wife,
My unquench'd charity shall tell you thus much
(Though you deserve it well) you shall not beg,
What I ordan'd your Jointure, honestly 
You shall have setled on you: and half my house,
The other half shall be imploy'd in prayers,
(That meritorious charge Ile be at also
Yet to confirm you christian) your apparrell,
And what belongs to build up such a folly,
Keep I beseech you, it infects our uses,
And now I am for travell.
Mar. Now I love you,
And now I see you are a man ile talk to you,
And I forget your bitternesse. 
Soph. How now man?
Petru. O Pliny, if thou wilt be ever famous
Make but this woman all thy wonders.
Mar. Sure sir
You have hit upon a happy course, a blessed,
And what will make you vertuous?
Petru. She'l ship me.
Mar. A way of understanding I long wishd for,
And now tis come, take heed you fly not back sir,
Me thinks you look a new man to me now, 
A man of excellence, and now I see
Some great design set in you: you may think now
(And so may most that know me) 'twere my part
Weakly to weep your losse, and to resist you,
Nay hang about your neck and like a dotard
Urge my strong tie upon you: but I love you,
And all the world shall know it, beyond woman,
And more prefer the honour of your Country,
Which chiefly you are born for, and may perfect,
The uses you may make of other Nations, 
The ripening of your knowledge, conversation,
The full ability, and strength of judgement,
Then any private love, or wanton kisses.
Go worthy man, and bring home understanding. (men.
So h. This were an excellent woman to breed School-
Mar. For if the Merchant through unknown Seas
To get his wealth, then deer sir, what must you (plough
To gather wisdom? go, and go alone,
Only your noble mind for your companion,
And if a woman may win credit with you, 
[End column one, begin column two page 118]
Go far: too far you cannot: still the farther
The more experience finds you: and go sparing,
One meale a week will serve you, and one sute,
Through all your travels: for you'l find it certaine,
The poorer and the baser you appear,
The more you look through still.
Petru. Do'st hear her?
Petru. What would this woman do if she were suffer'd,
Upon a new adventure? 
Soph. Make us nothing,
I wonder that she writes not.
Mar. Then when time,
And fulnesse of occasion have new made you,
And squard you from a sot into a Signour,
Or neerer from a Iade into a courser;
Come home an aged man, as did Ulysses,
And I your glad Penelope.
Petru. That must have
As many lovers as I languages. 
And what she do's with one i'th day, i'th night
Undoe it with an other.
Mar. Much that way sir;
For in your absence, it must be my honour,
That, that must make me spoken of hereafter,
To have temptations, and not little ones
Daily and hourely offerd me, and strongly,
Almost believed against me, to set off
The faith, and loyalty of her that loves you
Petru. What should I do? 
Soph. Why by my ____ I would travell,
Did not you mean so?
Petru. Alas no, nothing lesse man:
I did it but to try sir, shee's the devill,
And now I find it, for she drives me, I must go:
Are my trunks down there, and my horses ready?
Mir. Sir, for your house, and if you please to trust me
With that you leave behinde.
Petru. Bring down the money.
Mar. As I am able, and to my poor fortunes, 
I'le govern as a widow: I shall long
To hear of your wel-doing, and your profit:
And when I hear not from you once a quarter,
I'le wish you in the Indies, or Cataya,
Those are the climes must make you.
Petru. How's the wind?
She'l wish me out o'th world anon.
Mar. For France.
Tis very faire; get you aboard to night sir,
And loose no time, you know the tide staies no man, 
I have cold meats ready for you.
Petru. Far thee well,
Thou ha'st foold me o'th Kingdom with a vengeance,
And thouc canst foole me in againe.
Mir. Not I sir,
I love you better, take your time, and pleasure,
Ile see you hors'd.
Petru. I think thou wouldst see me hangd too,
Were I but halfe as willing.
Mar. Any thing 
That you think well of, I dare look upon.
Petru. You'l bear me to the lands end Sophocles,
And other of my friends I hope.
Mar. Nev'r doubt sir,
You cannot want companions for your good:
I am sure you'l kisse me ere I go; I have businesse,
And stay long here I must not.
Petru. Get thee going.
[End page 118, Catchword: Fro]
For if thou tarriest but an other Dialogue
Ile kick thee to thy Chamber. 
Mar. Far you well Sir,
And bear your selfe, I do beseech you once more,
Since you have undertaken doing wisely,
Manly, and worthily, tis for my credit,
And for those flying fames here of your follies,
Your gambols, and ill breeding of your youth,
For which I understand you take this travell,
Nothing should make me leave you els, ile deale
So like a wife, that loves your reputation,
And the most large addition of your credit, 
That those shall die: if you want Limon-waters,
Or any thing to take the edge o'th Sea off,
Pray speak, and be provided.
Petru. Now the Devill,
That was your first good master, shoure his blessing
Upon ye all: into whose custody ____
Mar. I do commit your Reformation,
And so I leave you to your Stilo novo. Exit Maria
Petru. I will go: yet I will not: once more Sophocles
Ile put her to the test. 
Soph. You had better go.
Petru. I will go then: let's seek my father out,
And all my friends to see me faire aboard:
Then women, if there be a storme at Sea,
Worse then your tongues can make, and waves more
Then your dissembling fayths are, let me feele (broken
Nothing but tempests, till they cracke my Keele.
[Bowers line numbers 4. 5. 1-236. ]
Actus Quintus, Scæna Prima.
Enter Petronius, and Byancha with 
By. Now whether I deserve that blame you
[End column one, begin column two page 119]
By. Comfort her.
Mor. VVhy am I sent for sir?
Petron. Will you in, and see?
By. May be she needs confession.
Mor. By St. Mary,
She shall have absolution then and pennance,
But not above her carriage.
Petron. Get you in foole. Exit. Mor.
By. Here comes the other too. En. Rowland and 
Petron. Now Tranio. Tranio.
Good ev'n to you too, and you are welcome.
Row. Thank you.
Petron. I have a certaine Daughter.
Row. Would you had sir.
Petron. No doubt you know her well.
Row. Nor never shall sir.
She is a woman, and the waies unto her
Are like the finding of a certaine path
After a deep falne Snow. 
Petron. Well thats by'th by still.
This Daughter that I tell you of is falne
A little crop sick, with the dangerous surfeit
She took of your affection.
Row. Mine sir?
Petron. Yes sir.
Or rather, as it seemes, repenting.
And there she lies within, debating on't,
Row. Well sir.
Petron. I think 'twere well you would see her. 
Row. If you please sir;
I am not squeamish of my visitation.
Petron. But, this ile tell you, she is alter'd much,
You'l finde her now an other Livia.
Row. I have enough o'th old sir.
Petron. No more foole,
To look gay babies in your eyes yong Rowland,
And hang about your prety neck.
Row. I am glad on't,
And thank my Fates I have scapd such execution. 
Petron. And busse you till you blush againe.
Row. Thats hard sir,
She must kisse shamefully ere I blush at it,
I never was so boyish; well, what followes?
Petron. She's mine now, as I please to settle her,
At my command, and where I please to plant her:
Only she would take a kind of farwell of you,
And give you back a wandring vow or two,
You left in pawn; and two or three slight oaths
She lent you too, she looks for. 
Row. She shall have 'em
With all my heart sir, and if you like it better,
A free release in writing.
Petron. Thats the matter,
And you from her, you shall have an other Rowland,
And then turne taile to taile, and peace by with you.
Row. So be it: your twenty pound sweats Tranio.
Tra. 'Twill not undoe me Rowland, do your worst.
Row. Come, shall we see her Sir?
By. What ere she saies 
You must beare manly Rowland, for her sicknesse
Has made her somewhat teatish.
Row. Let her talke
Till her tongue ake I care not: by this hand
Thou hast a handsome face wench, and a body
Daintely mounted; now do I feele an hundred
Runing directly from me, as I pist it.
Enter Livia discovered abed, and Moroso by her.
By. pray draw 'em softly, the least hurry sir
[End page 119, catchword: Puts, EEBO 316/473]
Puts her to much impatience. 
Petron. How is't daughter?
Liv. O very sick, very sick, yet somewhat
Better I hope; a little lightsommer,
Because this goodman has forgiven me;
Pray set me higher; Oh my head:
Bya. Wel done wench.
Liv. Father, and all good people that shal heare me,
I have abus'd this man perniciously; was never old man
I have scornd him, and cal'd him nasty names, 
I have spit at him,
Flung Candles ends in's beard, and cald him harrow,
That must be drawn to all he dos:contemn'd him,
For me thought then he was a beastly fellow.
(Oh God my side) a very beastly fellow:
And gave it out, his cassock was a Barge-cloth,
Pawnd to his predecessor by a Sculler,
The man yet living: I gave him purging comfits
At a great christning once,
That spoyl'd his Chamblet breeches; and one night 
I strewd the staires with pease, as he past down;
And the good Gentleman (woe worth me for't)
Ev'n with his reverent head, this head of wisdome,
Told two and twenty staires, good and true;
Mist not a step, and as we say verbatim
Fell to the bottome, broke his casting Bottle,
Lost a fair toad-stone of some eighteen shillings,
Jumbled his joynts together, had two stooles,
And was translated. All this villany
Did I: I Livia, I alone, untaught. 
Mor. And I unask'd, forgive it.
Liv. Where's Byancha?
Bya. Here Cozen.
Liv. Give me drinke,
Liv. Who's that?
Liv. O my dissembler, you and I must part.
Come neerer sir.
Row. I am sorry for your sicknesse.
Liv. Be sorry for your selfe sir, you have wrong'd me,
But I forgive you; are the papers ready?
Bya. I have 'em here: wilt please you view 'em?
Liv. Shew 'em the young man too, I know he's willing
To shift his sailes too: tis for his more advancement;
Alas, we might have beggerd one another;
We are young both, and a world of children
Might have been left behind to curse our follies:
We had been undone Byancha, had we married, 
Undone for ever: I confesseI lov'd him,
I care not who shall know it, most intirely;
And once, upon my conscience, he lov'd me;
But farewell that, we must be wiser cosen.
Love must not leave us to the world: have you done?
Row. Yes, and am ready to subscribe.
Liv. Pray stay then:
Give me the papers, and let me peruse 'em,
And so much time, as may afford a teare
At our last parting. 
Bya. Pray retire, and leave her,
Ile call ye presently.
Petro. Come Gentlemen, the showre must fall.
Row. Would I had never seen her.
Bya. Thou hast done bravely wench.
Liv. Pray Heaven it prove so.
Bya. There are the other papers: when they come
[End column one, begin column two page 120]
Begin you first, and let the rest subscribe
Hard by your side; give 'em as little light
As Drapers doe their wares. 
Liv. Didst mark Moroso,
In what an agony he was, and how he cry'd most
When I abus'd him most?
Bya. That was but reason.
Liv. Oh what a stinking thief is this?
Though I was but to counterfeit, he made me
Directly sick indeed. Tames-street to him
Is a meere Pomander.
Bya. Let him be hang'd.
Liv. Amen. 
Bya. And lie you still.
And once more to your businesse.
Liv. Call 'em in.
Now if there be a power that pities lovers,
Helpe now, and heare my prayers.
Enter Petronius, Rowland, Tranio, Moroso.
Petro. Is she ready?
Bya. She has done her lamentations: pray go to her.
Liv. Rowland, come neer me, and before you seale,
Give me your hand: take it again; now kisse me, 
This is the last acquaintance we must have;
I wish you ever happy: there's the paper.
Row. Pray stay a little.
Petro. Let me never live more
But I do begin to pity this young fellow;
How heartily he weeps!
Bya. There's Pen and Inke sir.
Liv. Ev'n here I pray you. Tis a little Emblem
How neere you have been to me.
Row. There. 
Bya. Your hands too,
Petro. By any means
To th' booke sonne.
Mor. With all my heart.
Bya. You must deliver it.
Row. There Livia, and a better love light on thee,
I can no more.
Bya. To this you must be witnesse too.
Petro. We wil. 
Bya. Doe you deliver it now.
Lyv. Pray set me up;
There Rowland, all thy old love back: and may
A new to come exceed mine, and be happy.
I must no more.
Liv. A long farewell. Exit Rowl.
Bya. Leave her by any means, till this wild passion
Be off her head; draw all the Curtaines close,
A day hence you may see her, twil be better, 
She is now for little company.
Petro. Pray tend her.
I must to horse straight: you must needs along too,
To see my sonne aboard; were but his wife
As fit for pity, as this wench, I were happy.
Bya. Time must do that too: fare ye wel; to morrow
You shall receive a wife to quit your sorrow. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 1-164.]
[Act Five, Scene Two]
[End page 120, catchword: Jaq.]
Jaq. Yes, and the Hampers; nay be speedy Masters;
He'l be at Sea before us else.
Ped. O Jaques,
What a most blessed turn hast thou?
Jaq. I hope so.
Ped. To have the Sea between thee and this woman,
Nothing can drown her tongue, but a storm.
Jaq. By your leave, 
We'l get us up to Paris with all speed;
For on my soule, as far as Amyens
She'l carry blanke; away to Lyon key
And ship 'em presently, we'l follow ye.
Ped. Now could I wish her in that Trunk:
Jaq. God shield man,
I had rather have a Beare in't.
Ped. Yes, Ile tell ye:
For in the passage if a Tempest take ye,
As many doe, and you lie beating for it, 
Then, if it pleas'd the fates, I would have the Master
Out of a powerfull providence, to cry,
Lighten the ship of all hands, or we perish;
Then this for one, as best spar'd, should by all means
Jaq. O' that condition,
So we were certaine to be rid of her,
I would wish her with us: But believe me Pedro,
She would spoyle the fishing on this coast for ever,
For none would keepe her company, but Dog-fish, 
As currish as her selfe; or Porpisces,
Made to all fatall uses: The two Fish-streets
Were she but once ariv'd amongst the Whitings,
Would sing a wofull misereri Pedro,
And mourn in poor John, till her memory
Were cast o' shore agen, with a strong Sea-breach:
She would make god Neptune, and his fire-forke,
And all his demi-gods, and goddesses,
As weary of the Flemmish channell Pedro,
As ever boy was of the schoole: tis certain, 
If she but meet him faire, and were wel angred,
She would break his god-head.
Ped. Oh her tongue, her tongue.
Jaq. Rather her many tongues.
Ped. Or rather strange tongues.
Jaq. Her lying tongue.
Ped. Her lisping tongue.
Jaq. Her long tongue.
Ped. Her lawlesse tongue.
Jaq. Her loud tongue. 
Ped. And her lickrish --
Jaq. Many other tongues, and many stranger tongues
Then ever Babel had to tell his ruines,
Were women rais'd withall; but never a true one.
Soph. Home with your stuffe agen; the journeys ended.
Jaq. What do's your worship meane?
Soph. Your Master, O Petruchio, O poore fellows.
Ped. O Jaques, Jaques.
Soph. O your Master's dead, 
His body comming back; his wife, his devil;
The griefe of --- her
Jaq. Has kild him?
Soph. Kild him, kild him.
Ped. Is there no law to hang her.
Soph. Get ye in,
And let her know her misery, I dare not
For feare impatience seize me, see her more,
I must away agen: Bid her for wife-hood,
For honesty, if she have any in her, 
[End column one, begin column two page 121]
Even to avoyd the shame that follows her.
Cry if she can: your weeping cannot mend it.
The body wil be here within this houre, so tell her;
And all his friends to curse her. Farewell fellowes.
Ped. O Jaques, Jaques.
Jaq. O my worthy Master.
Ped. O my most beastly Mistris, hang her.
Jaq. Split her.
Ped. Drown her directly. 
Jaq. Starve her.
Ped. Stinke upon her.
Jaq. Stone her to death: may all she eate be Eggs,
Till she run kicking mad for men.
Ped. And he,
That man, that gives her remedy, pray Heav'n
He may ev'n ipso facto, lose his longings. (her,
Jaq. Let's goe discharge our selves, and he that serves
Or speaks a good word of her from this houre,
A seagly curse light on him, which is, Pedro; 
The feind ride through him booted, and spurd, with a
Sythe at's back. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 1-67. ]
[Act Five, Scene Three]
Row. What a dull asse was I to let
her go thus?
[Begin signature Qqqqq: Catchword: Tra., EEBO 317/473]
Tra. Yes, if ye dare.
Row. Sweare to all these.
Tra. I will.
Row. As thou art honest, as thou hast a conscience,
As that may wring thee if thou lyest; all these 
To be no vision, but a truth, and serious.
Tra. Then by my honesty, and faith, and conscience;
All this is certaine.
Row. Let's remove our places.
Sweare it again.
Tra. By____tis true.
Row. I have lost then, and Heaven knows I am glad ont.
Let's goe, and tell me all, and tell me how,
For yet I am a Pagan in it.
Tra. I have a Priest too, 
And all shall come as even as two Testers. Exeunt.
[Bowers line numbers 1-39. ]
[Act Five, Scene Four]
Petron. Set down the body, and one
call her out.
[End column one, begin column two page 122]
Petru. Why, why Maria. (give me;
Mar. I have done my worst, and have my end, for-
From this houre make me what you please: I have tam'd
And now am vowd your servant: Look not strangly, (ye,
Nor feare what I say to you. Dare you kisse me?
Thus I begin my new love.
Petru. Once againe?
Mar. With all my heart.
Petru. Once again Maria! 
O Gentlemen, I know not where I am. 
Soph. Get ye to bed then: there you'l quickly know sir.
Petru. Never no more your old tricks?
Mar. Never sir.
Petru. You shall not need, for as I have a faith
No cause shall give occasion.
Mar. As I am honest,
And as I am a maid yet, all my life
From this houre since, since ye make so free profession,
I dedicate in service to your pleasure. 
Soph. I marry, this goes roundly off.
Petru. Go Jaques,
Get all the best meat may be bought for money,
And let the hogsheds blood, I am born again:
Well little England, when I see a husband
Of any other Nation stern or jealous,
Ile wish him but a woman of thy breeding,
And if he have not butter to thy bread,
Till thy teeth bleed, ile never trust my travell.
Enter Rowland, Livia, Byancha, and Tranio. 
Petro. What have we here?
Row. Another morris, sir.
That you must pipe too.
Tra. A poore married couple
Desire an offering sir.
Bya. Never frown at it,
You cannot mend it now: there's your own hand;
And yours Moroso, to confirme the bargaine.
Petron. My hand?
Mor. Or mine? 
Bya. You'l finde it so.
Petron. A trick,
Bya. Yes sir, we trickt ye.
Petro. Hast thou lyen with him? speake?
Liv. Yes truly sir.
Petro. And hast thou done the deed boy?
Row. I have done sir,
That, that will serve the turne, I think. 
Petru. A match then,
Ile be the maker up of this: Moroso,
There's now no remedy you see, be willing;
For be, or be not, he must have the wench.
Mor. Since I am over-reach'd, let's in to dinner,
And if I can Ile drink't away.
Tra. That's wel said.
Petro. Well sirha, you have playd a tricke, look to't,
And let me be a grandsire within's twelvemoneth,
Or by this hand, Ile curtaile halfe your fortunes. 
Row. There shall not want my labour sir: your money;
Here's one has undertaken.
Tra. Well, Ile trust her,
And glad I have so good a pawn.
Row. Ile watch ye.
Petru. Lets in, and drink of all hands, and be joviall:
I have my colt again, and now she carries;
And Gentlemen, whoever marries next,
Let him be sure he keep him to his Text. Exeunt.
[End page 122, catchword: PROLOGUE]
[Bowers line numbers 1-90. ]
This reproduction is based upon the copy of the play reproduced in the Early English Books series (now available on-line), bibliographical number: Wing / B1581 (Harvard University Library copy). If you have subscription access then the original text is available here.
The text was transcribed by Drew Whitehead, and has been electronically checked against a copy from the LION Database.From Greg: A Bibliography of the English Printed Drama to the Restoration. Vol. 2. London: Oxford UP, 1951.
BEAUMONT & FLETCHER, Comedies and Tragedies, 1647, 2º: sigs. 5N1-5Q2, pp 97-123. Double columns.
Text headed "Actus Primus -- Scæne Prima" with HT and initial, 5N1. "Prologue" (20 ll. "Ladies to you, in whose defence and right,") and "Epilogue" (12 ll. "The Tamer's tam'd, but so, as nor the men"), 2Q2. [2Q2v blank.]
Catchwords: 5N-5O, Clap 5P-5Q, Jaq. FINIS.
Five acts and scenes in verse and some prose speeches in I.iii, with verse prologue and epilogue.