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tell me,

me.

MEN.

Ever so bobb’d for searching out adventures, And through a world of dangers am flown As I am? Did the devil lead me! Must I needs

to ye. be peeping

Be full of haste and care, we are undone else. Into men's houses where I had no business, Where are your people? Which way must we And make myself a mischief ? 'Tis well car

travel? ried!

For Heaven's sake stay not here, Sir. I must take other men's occasions on me, Fred. What may this prove? And be I koow not whom : most finely Con. Alas! I am mistaken, lost, undone, handled!

[purchase? | For ever perished! Sir, for Heaven's sake, What have I got by this now? What's the A piece of evening arras-work, a child, Are ye a gentleman ? indeed an infidel ! This comes of peeping!

Fred. I am. A lump got out of laziness! Good white Con. Of this place ? bread,

Fred. No, born in Spain. Let's have no bawling with ye. 'Sdeath, have I

Con. As ever you loved bonour, Known wenches thus long, all the ways of As ever your desires may gain their end, wenches,

Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit, Their snares and subtleties! Have I read over for I'm forced to trust ye. All their school-learning, dived into their Fred. Y' have charmed me. quiddits,

Humanity and honour bids me help ye; And am I now bumfiddled with a bastard ?

And if I fail your trustFetch'd over with a card of five, and in my old Con. The time's too dangerous After the dire massacre of a million [days, To stay your protestations : I believe ye. Of maidenheads, caught the common way, i' Alas! 1 must believe ye. From this place, the night too,

Good, noble Sir, remove me instantly. Under another's name, to make the matter And for a time, where nothing but yourself, Carry more weight about it? Well, Don John, And honest conversation may come near me, You will be wiser one day, when ye've pur- In some secure place settle me. What I am, chased

And why thus boldly I commit my credit A bevy of those butter prints together,

Into a stranger's hand, the fears and dangers With searching out concealed iniquities,

That force me to this wild course, at more Without commission., Why it would never I shall reveal unto you.

[leisure grieve me,

Fred. Come, be hearty,
If I had got this gingerbread; never stirred He must strike through my life that takes you

[justice
from me.

[Exeunt. So I had had a stroke for it; 't had been Then to have kept it: but to raise a dairy,

Enter PETRUCHIO, ANTONIO, und two GENTLEFor other men's adultery, consume myself in caudles,

[bies, Petr. He will sure come: are ye all well And scouring work, in nurses, bells, and ba

armed ? Only for charity, for mere I thank you,

Ant. Never fear us :

[fiddle. A little troubles me : the least touch for it, Here's that will make 'em dance without a Had but my breeches got it, it had contented Petr. We are to look for no weak foes, my

Nor unadvised ones.

[friends, Whose e'er it is, sure it had a wealthy mother, Ant. Best gamesters make the best play; For 'tis well clothed, and if I be not cozen'd, We sball fight close and home them. Well lined within. To leave it here were 1st Gent. Antonio, barbarous,

You are thought too bloody. And ten to one would kill it; a worse sin Ant. Why? All physicians Than bis that got it. Well, I will dispose on't, And penny almanacs allow the opening And keep it, as they keep death's heads in Of veins this month. Why do you talk of rings,

bloody? To cry memento to me--no more peeping. What come we for? to fall to cuffs for apples ? Now all the danger is to qualify, [live; Whạt, would you make the cause a cudgelThe good old gentlewoman at whose house we quarrel? For she will fall upon me with a catechism Petr. Speak softly, gentle cousin. Of four hours long : I must endure all;

Ant. I will speak truly. For 1 will know this mother. Conne, good What should men do, allied to these disgraces, wonder,

Lick o'er his enemy, sit down and dance him? Let you and I be jogging ; your starved treble 2d Gent. You are as far o' th' bow-hand Will waken the rude watch else.. All that be

now. Curious night-walkers, may they find my fee.

Ant. And cry,

(child? [Exit. That's my fine boy; thou wilt do so no more,

Petr. Here are no such cold pities.
Enter Don FREDERICK.

Ant. By St. Jaques,

[Andrew,

They shall not fiod mé one! Here's old tough Fred. Sure he's gone home :

A special friend of mine, and he but hold, I have beaten all the purlieus,

l'll strike them such a hornpipe! Knocks I But cannot bolt him. If he be a-bobbing,

come for, 'Tis not my care can cure him: to-morrow And the best blood I light on: I profess it, morning

Not to scare costermongers. Jf I lose my own, I shall have further knowledge from a surgeon, My audit's lost, and farewell five-and-bfty; Wbere he lies moor'd to mend his leaks.

Petr. Let's talk no longer. Place yourselves

with silence Enter Ist ConstanTJA.

As I directed ye; and when time calls us,

As ye are friends, to show yourselves. Con. I am ready:

Ant. So be it.

(Exeunt.

me,

all your

Enter Don John and his LANDLADY. Land. One that should weigh bis fair name! Lund. Nay, son, if this be your regard

Oh, a stitch! John. Good mother

John. There's nothing better for å stitch, Land. Good me no gouds—Your cousin ard Make no-spare of it, as you love your health ;

good mother, yourself

(selves Mince not the matter. Are welcome to me, whilst you bear your- Land. As I said, a gentleman Like honest and true gentlemen. Bring hither Ledger'd in my house! Now Heaven's my To my house, that have ever been reputed

comfort, sigoior! A gentlewoman of a decent and a fair carriage,

John. I looked for this.
And so behaved myself-
John. I know you have.

Land. I did not think you would have used Land. Bring hither, as I say, to make my A woman of my credit, one, Heaven knows,

me thus; name

That loves you but too tenderly. Stink in my neighbour's nostrils, your devices,

John. Dear mother,

sit. Your brats got out of alligant and broken oaths, I ever found your kindness, and acknowledge Your linsey-woolsey work, your basty pudI foster up your filch'd iniquities !

Land. No, no, I am a fool to counsel ye. {dings !

Where's the infant ?
You're deceived in me, Sir, I am none

Come, let's see your workmanship.
Of those receivers.
John. Have I not sworn unto you,

John. None of mine, mother :

[it? 'Tis pone

of mine, and show'd you how I found But there 'tis, and a lusty one. Land. Ye found an easy fool that let you Thou hadst a hasty making : but the best is,

to Land. Heaven bless thee, get it. John. Will you hear me ?

'Tis many a good man's fortune. As I live, Land. Oaths! what care you for oaths to As like ye, as ye had spit it.

Your own eyes, signior; and the nether lip gain your ends;

John. I am glad on't. When ye are high and pamper'd? What saint know ye?

Land. Bless me! what things are these ? Or what religion, but your purposed lewdness, was not all lost: 'tis gold, and these are

John. I thought my labour Is to be look'd for of ye? Nay, I will tell ye- Both rich and right, I hope. You will then swear like accused cut-purses,

[jewels, As far off truth too ; and lie beyond all falcon- I see y'ere a woodman, and can choose

Land. Well, well, son John, I'm sick to sec this dealing.

[ers :

Your deer, though it be i' th' dark; John. Heaven forbid, mother.

discretion Land. Nay, I am very sick.

Is not yet lost; this was well clapp'd aboard ; John. Who waits there?

Here I am with ye now, when, as they say, Pet. (Within.] Sir! John. Bring down the bottle of Canary wine. Your pleasure comes with profit ; when you

must needs do, Land. Exceeding sick, Heaven help me! John. Haste ye, sirrah.

Do where you may be done to ; 'tis a wisdom I must e'en make her drunk. (Aside.] Nay,

Becomes a young man well: be sure of one gentle mother

thing, Land. Now fy upon ye ! was it for this pur- It seasons of a fool, son ; time is precious,

Lose not your labour and your time together; pose You fetch'd yonr evening walks for your de- Work wary whilst you have it. Since you

must traffic

[signior; For this pretended holiness? No weather, Not before day, could hold you from the ma

Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold,

Trade with no broken merchants ; make your tins.

(well, Were these your bo-peep prayers? Y'ave pray'd As you would make your rest, adventurously,

lading And with a learned zeal have watch'd well too; But with advantage ever.

your saint, It seems, was pleased as well. Still sicker, The child wants looking to, wants meat and

John. All this time, mother, (nurses. sicker!

· Land. Now blessing o' thy heart, it shall

have all; Enter Peter with a bottle of wine. And instantly I'll seek a nurse myself, son.

'Tis a sweet child-Ab, my young Spaniard ! John. There is no talking to her till I have Take you po farther care, Sir. drench'd her. [draught. John. Yes, of these jewels,

[yours, Give me. Here, mother, take a good round I must by your good leave, mother; these are It will purge spleen from your spirits : deeper, To make your care the stronger; for the rest, mother.

I'll find a master; the gold for bringing up Land. Ay, ay, son; you imagine this will 'I freely render to your charge. (on't, mend all.

Land. No more words, John. All, i' faith, mother.

Nor no more children, good son, as you love Land. I confess the wine

This may do well.

(me: Will do his part.

John. I shall observe your morals. John. I'll pledge ye.

But where's Don Frederick, mother?
Land. But, son John-

Land. Ten to one,
John. I know your meaning, mother; touch it About the like adventure; he told me,

He was to find you out.
Alas! you look not well, take a round draught, John. Why should he stay us?
It warms the blood well, and restores the col- There may be some ill chance in it: sleep I
And then we'll talk at largo.

(our,
will not,

(pleased, Land. A civil gentleman !

(of! Before I have found him. Now this woman's A stranger! one the town holds a good regard i'll seek my friend out, and my care is eased. John. Nay, I will silence thee there.

[Exeunt.

once more.

surer

me :

men

Enter Duke and three Gentlemen. Ant. Is the wind there again ?

Fred. Be gone. 1st Gent, Believe, Sir, 'tis as possible to do Ant. I am, Sir.

(Erit. it,

Fred. Now enter without fear-
As to move the city: the main faction
Swarm through the streets like hornets, and Enter 1st CONSTANTIA with a jewel.

with augurs
Able to ruin states, no safety left us,

And, noble lady,
Nor means to die like men, if instantly That safety and civility ye wish for
You draw not back again.

Shall truly here attend you; no rude tongue Duke. May he be drawn,

Nor rough behaviour knows this place; no And quarter'd too, that turns now; were I

wishes,

[death Beyond the nioderation of a man, Of death than thou art o' thy fears, and with Dare enter here. Your own desires and innoMore than those fears are too

cence,

(ye. 1st Gent. Sir, I fear not.

Join'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect Duke. I would not break my vow, start from Con. Ye are truly noble, my honour,

And worth a woman's trust: let it become Because I'may find danger; wound my soul To keep my body safe.

(I do beseech you, Sir) for all your kindness, 1st Gent. I speak pot, Sir,

To render with my thanks this worthless Out of a baseness to ye.

trife Duke. No, nor do not

I may be longer troublesome. Out of a baseness leave me. What is danger Fred. Fair offices More than the weakness of our apprehen- Are still their own rewards : Heavens bless sions ?

me, lady,

(ye, A poor cold part o'th'blood. Who takes it From selling civil courtesies. May it please bold of?

If ye will force a favour to oblige me,
Cowards and wicked livers ; valiant minds Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfy me
Were made masters of it: and as hearty sea- For what good angel I am engaged.

Con. It shall be ;
In desperate storms stem with a little rudder For I am truly confident ye are honest.
The tumbling ruins of the ocean;

The piece is scarce worth looking on.
So with their cause and swords do they do

Fred. Trust me, dangers.

The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness ! Say we were sure to die all in this venture, Defend me, honest thoughts, I shall grow' As I am confident against it; is there any

wild else. Amongst us of so fat a sense, so pamper'd, What eyes are there! rather what little Would choose luxuriously to lie a-bed,

heavens, And purge away his spirits; send his soul To stir men's contemplation ! What a Paradise out

Runs through each part she has! Good blood, In sugar-sops and sirups ? Give me dying

be temperate ! As dying ought to be, upon mine enemy

I must look off: too excellent an object Parting with mankind, by a man that's Confounds the sense that sees it. Noble lady, manly?

If there be any further service to cast on me, Let then be all the world, and bring along Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye, Cain's envy with them, I will on.

Or the engagements of whole families. 2d Gent. You may, Sir,

Con. Your service is too liberal, worthy Sir. But with what safety ?

Thus far I shall entreat1st Gent. Since 'tis come to dying,

Fred. Coinmand me, lady: You shall perceive, Sir, that here be those You may make your power too poor. amongst us,

Con. That presently,
Can die as decently as other men,

With all convenient haste, you will retire
And with as little ceremony. On, brave Sir. Unto the street you found me in.
Duke. That's spoken heartily.

Fred. "Tis done. 1st Cent. And he that flipches,

Con. There if you find a gentleman oppress'd May he die lousy in a ditch.

With force and violence, do a man's office, Duke. No more dying

And draw your sword to rescue him. There's no such daoger in't. What's o'clock ? Fred. He's safe,

3d Gent. Somewhat above your hour. Be what he will, and let his foes be devils, Duke. Away then quickly,

Armd with your beauty I shall conjure them, Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us. Retire, this key will guide ye: all things ne

(Exeunt.

cessary

Are there before ye. Enter FREDERICK and ANTHONY with a Con. All my prayers go with ye. [Erit. Candle.

Fred. Ye clap on proof upon me. Men say, gold

[gers : Fred. Give me the candle ; so, go you out Does all, engages all, works through all dan

Now I say, beauty can do more. The king's Ant. What have we now to do?

exchequer, Fred. And on your life, sirrah,

Nor all his wealthy Indies, could not draw Let none come near the door without my

sure knowledge :

Through half those miseries this piece of pleasNo, not my candlady, nor my friend.

Might make ine leap into : we are all like Ant, 'Tis done, Sir.

sea-charts, Fred. Nor any serious business that con- All our endeavours and our motions

(As they do to the north) still point at beauty,

that way.

me

cerns me.

comes rescue.

Still at the fairest ; for a handsome woman, Much worthy mention of ye, yet I find
(Setting my soul aside) it should go hard Fame short of what ye are.
But I will strain my body; yet to her,

John. You are pleased, Sir,
Unless it be her own free gratitude.

To express your courtesy : may I demand Hopes, ye shall die, and thou, tongue, rot As freely what you are, and what mischance within me,

Cast you into this danger ? Ere 1 infringe my faith. Now to my rescue. Duke. For this present

[me, (Exit. I must desire your pardon : you shall know ACT II.

Ere it be long, Sir, and nobler thanks,
Than now my will can repder.

John. Your will's your own, Sir.
SCENE 1.-Enter Duke, pursued by Petru.

Duke. What is't you look for, Sir ? Have CH10, ANTONIO, and that faction.

you lost any thing! Duke. You will not all oppress me?

John. Only my hat i'th' scuffle ; sure these Ant. Kill him i' the wanton eye:

Were night-spaps.

(fellows Let me come to him.

Duke. No, believe me, Sir : pray use mine, Duke. Then you shall buy me dearly.

For 'twill be hard to find your own now. Petr. Say you so, Sir ?

John. No, Sir. Ant. I say, cut his wezand, spoil his peep- Duke. Indeed you shall; I can command Have at your love-sick heart, Sir, (ing;

I do beseech you honour me. [another :

John. Well, Sir, then I will,
Enter Don John,

And so I'll take my leave.
John. Şure 'tis fighting !

Duke. Within these few days My friend may be engaged. Fy, geotlenien,

I hope I shall be happy in your knowledge, This is upmanly odds.

Till when I love your memory. (Exit cum suis. (Duke fulls; Don John bestrides him. Ant. I'll stop your mouth, Sir.

Enter FREDERICK. John. Nay, then have at thee freely.

John. I'm yours. There's a plumb, Sir, to satisfy your longing.

This is some poble fellow ! Petr. Away; I hope I have sped him: here

Fred. 'Tis his tongue sure.

Don John!
We shall be endanger'd. Where's Antonio ?

John. Don Frederick !
Ant. I must have one thrust more, Sir.
John. Come up to me.

Fred. Y' are fairly met, Sir!
Ant. A mischief confound your fingers.

I thought ye had been a bat-fowling. Pr’ythee

tell me. Petr. How is it?

What revelation hast thou had to-night, Ant. Well :

That home was never thought on ?
He has given me my quietus est; I felt him

John. Revelations !
In my small guts ; I'm sure he's feez'd me;
This comes of siding with you.

I'll tell thee, Frederick; but before I tell thee, 2d Gent. Can you go, Sir ?

Settle thy understanding:

Fred. 'Tis prepared, Sir. Ant. I shall go, man, and my head were off;

John. Why then mark what shall follow Never talk of going:

This night, Frederick, this bawdy nightPetr. Come, all shall be well then.

Fred. I thought no less.
I hear more rescue coming. [Trampling within.

John. This blind night,
Enter the Duke's faction.

What dost thou think I have got ?

Fred. The pox, it may be. Ant. Let's turn back then ;

John. Would 'were no worse : ye talk of My skull's uncloven yet, let me kill.

revelations, Petr. Away, for Heaven's sake, with him. I have got a revelation will reveal me

(Exit cum suis. An arrant coxcomb whilst I live. John. How is it?

Fred. What is't? Duke. Well, Sir,

Thou hast lost pothing? Only a little stagger'd.

John. No, I have got, I tell thee. Duke's fact. Let's pursue them.

Fred. What hast thou got? Duke. No, not a man, I charge ye. Thanks, John. One of the infantry, a child. good coat,

Fred. How! Thou hast saved me a shrewd welcome : 'twas John. A chopping child, man. put home,

Fred. Give you joy, Sir. With a good mind too, I'm sure on't.

John. A lump of lewdness, Frederick ; that's John. Are you safe then ?

the truth on't. Duke. My thanks to you, brave Sir, whose This town's abominable. timely valour

Fred. I still told ye, John,

sye: And madly courtesy came to my rescue. Your whoring must come home; I counsell'd John. Ye bad foul play offer'd ye, and shame But where no grace isberal him

John. 'Tis none of mine, man. That can pass by oppression.

Fred. Answer the parish so. Duke. May I crave, Sir,

John. Cheated in troth By this much honour more, to know your(Peeping into a house) by whom I know not, And him I am so bound to ?

[námé, Nor where to find the place again; ao, FreJohn. For the bond, Sir,

"Tis no poor one,

(derick, 'Tis every good man's tie: to know me further, That's my best comfort, for 't has brought Will little profit you; I am a stranger,

about it
My country Spain, my name Don John, a | Enough to make it man.
That came abroad to travel [gentleman Fred. Where is't?
Duke, I have heard, Sir,

John. At home.

with me,

Frea. A saving voyage ; but what will you

John. Tell me, say, Signior,

And tell me true, is the cause honourable, To him that searching out your serious worship, Or for your ease? Has met a strange fortune ?

Fred. By all our friendship, John, John. How, good Frederick ?

'Tis honest and of great end. A militant girl to this boy would hit it.

John. I'm answer'd ;

[open Fred. No, mine's a nobler venture : what do But let me see her, though ; leave the door you think, Sir,

As you go in. Of a distressed lady, one whose beauty

Fred. I dare not. Would oversell all Italy?

John. Not wide open,
John. Where is she ?

But just so as a jealous husband
Fred. A woman of that rare behaviour, Would level at his wanton wife through.
So qualified, as admiration

Fred. That courtesy, Dwells round about her; of that perfect If you desire no more, and keep it strictly, spirit

I dare afford ye: come, 'tis now near morning. John. Ay, marry, Sir.

[Exeunt. Fred. That admirable carriage, (morning, That sweetness in discourse; youög as the

Enter Peter and ANTHONY.
Her blushes staining his.
John. But where's this creature ?

Pet. Nay, the old woman's gone too.
Show me but that.

Ant. She's a caterwauling
Fred. That's all one; she's forthcoming.
I have her sure, boy.

Amongst the gutters. But conceive me, Peter, John. Hark ye, Frederick ;

Where our good masters should be.

Pet. Where they should be, What truck betwixt iny infant ?

(thonyFred. 'Tis too light, Sir;

[well.

I do conceive; but where they are, good An

Ant. Ay, there it goes : my master's bo-peep Stick to your charge, good Don John ; I am

John. But is there such a wench ?
Fred. First tell me this;

With his sly popping in and out again,

Argued a cause-Hark! Did yon not lately, as you walk'd along,

[Lute sounds.

Pet. What? Discover people that were armed, and likely

Ant. Dost not hear a lute? To do offence?

Again! John. Yes, marry, and they urged it

Pet. Where is't? As far as they had spirit.

Ant. A bove, in my master's chamber. Fred, Pray go forward.

Pet. There's no creature : he hath the key John. A gentleman I found engaged

Man.

[himseli, amongst 'em. It seems of noble breeding, I'm sure brave

Ant. This is his lute, let him have it. metal;

[Sings within a little. As I returned to look you, I set into him,

Pet. I grant ye; but who strikes it?

Ant. An admirable voice too, hark ye. And without hurt, I thank Heaven, rescued

Pet. Anthony, him.

Art sure we are at home ? Fred. My work's done then;

Ant. Without all doubt, Peter. And now to satisfy you, there is a woman

Pet. Then this must be the devil.
Oh, John, there is a woman-

Ant. Let it be.
John. Oh, where is she?
Fred. And one of no less worth than I told; Peter, believe it, a most delicate devil,

Good devil, sing again: 0 dainty devil,
And which is more, fallen under my protec- The sweetest devil-

tion. John. I am glad of that; forward, sweet Frederick.

Enter FREDERICK and Don John.
Fred. And which is more than that, by this
night's wandering;

Fred. If you would leave peeping.
And which is most of all, she is at home, too, John. I cannot by no means.
Sir.

Fred. Then come in softly;
John. Come, let's begone then.

And as you love your faith, presume no further Fred. Yes, but'tis most certain

Than ye have promised. You cannot see her, John.

John. Basco. John. Why?

Fred. What makes you up so early, Sir? Fred. She has sworn me,

(mother, John. You, Sir, in your contemplations ? That none else shall come near her; not my Pet. O pray ye peace, Sir! 'Till some doubts are cleared.

Fred. Why peace, Sir? John. Not look upon her ? What chamber is Pet. Do you hear? she in?

John. 'Tis your lute: she’s playing on’t. Fred. In ours.

Ant. The house is haunted, Sir: John. Let us go, I say?

[making. For this we have heard this half hour. A woman's oaths are wafers, and break with Fred. Ye saw nothing. Inlod They must for modesty a little: We all know Ant. Not I. it.

Pet. Nor I, Sir. Fred. No, I'll assure ye, Sir.

Fred. Get your breakfast then, John. Not see her!

(derick, And make no words on't: we'll undertake I smell an old dog-trick of yours. Well, Fre- this spirit, Ye talk'd to me of whoring; let's have fair If it be one. Square-dealing, I would wish ye. [play, Ant. This is no devil, Peter! Fred. When 'tis come

Mum! there be bats abroad. [Exeunt anbo. (Which I know never will be) to that issue, Fred. Stay, now she sings. Your spoon shall be as deep as mine, Sir. John. An angel's voice, I'll swear.

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