ern us, To rail at fortune, to fall out with my fate, And tax the general world, will help me nothing: Alas! I am the same still: neither are they Subject to helps or hurts; our own desires Are our own fates, and our own stars all our fortune; Which, as we sway 'em, so abuse or bless ur. Enter FREDERICK, and DON JOHN peeping. Fred. Peace to your meditations. Stand out of the light. Con. I crave your mercy, Sir! My mind, o'ercharged with care, made me unmannerly. Fred. Pray ye set that mind at rest, all shall be perfect. John. I like the body rare; a handsome body, [turn; A wondrous handsome body: would she would See, and that spiteful puppy be not got Between me and my light again. Fred. 'Tis done, As all that you command shall be: Con. How shall I thank ye, Sir? how satisfy? Fred. Speak softly, gentle lady; all's rewarded. Now does he melt like marmalade. John. Nay, 'tis certain, Thou art the sweetest woman that eyes e'er look'd on. Fred. Has none disturbed ye? Con. Not any, Sir, nor any sound came near 1 thank your care. Fred. 'Tis well. John. I would fain pray now, [me; John. That's a lie. Fred. And trusty, Beyond your wishes: valiant to defend, Has broke the neck of all my hopes for now Must I cry, no forsooth, and ay forsooth, and surely, And truly as I live, and as I am honest. This way he 'as watch'd his time Cen. Sir, I credit ye. Fred. Go, salute her, John. John. Plague o' your commendations. Con. Sir, I shall now desire to be a trouble. John. Never to me, sweet lady; thus I seal My faith, and all my services. Con. One word, Signior. John. Now 'tis impossible I should be honest. What points she at? my leg, I warrant; or My well knit body: sit fast, Don Frederick. Fred. 'Twas given him by that gentleman You took such care of; his own being lost i' th' scuille. Con. With much joy may he wear it; 'tis a right one, I can assure ye, gentlemen, and right happy May he be in all fights for that noble service. Fred. Why do you blush? Con. It had almost cozen'd me; For, not to lie when I saw that, I looked for [Knocks within. Come in, Sir. Enter ANTHONY. [Exit CoN. Now what's the news with you? But the devil, and that flesh there o' the Would speak with Don John. world John. Who, Sir? [Exit ANTHONY. How do you like her, John? John. Art thou an ass? And modest as her blushes! What blockhead The same to-night, to-morrow night, the next The hour of my destruction is come on me, I am discovered, lost, left to my ruin As ever ye have pity John. Do not fear. Wait thus long here. Petr. Occasions must be served, Sir; Petr. Then, [ye; First for your own brave sake I must embrace Whilst your occasions make you resident ye. John. Had I known sooner- You'll make my thanks too poor; I wear a And have a service to be still disposed of, Petr. That manly courtesy is half my busi- [ye, And to be short, to make ye know I honour And in all points believe your worth like This day, Petruchio, [oracle, A man that may command the strength of this place, Hazard the boldest spirits, hath made choice John. Forward, I am free to entertain it. I do beseech ye mark me. John. I shall, Sir. Petr. Ferrara's Duke, would 1 might call But that he has razed out from his family, Let the great devil come, he shall come through But two of all our house to stock our memo me first: Lost here, and we about ye! Fred. Fall before us! Con. O my unfortunate estate, all angers Compared to his, to his Fred. Let his and all men's, Whilst we have power and life, stand up for Con. I have offended Heaven too; yet Hea- John. We are all evil : Yet Heaven forbid we should have our deserts. Con. Too, too near my offence, Sir: O, he will cut me piece-meal. Fred. "Tis no treason? John. Let it be what it will? if he cut here, I'll find him cut work. Fred. He must buy you dear, With more than common lives. John. Fear not, nor weep not: By Heaven, I'll fire the town before ye perish, ries, [for, My sister Constantia and myself, with arts Oft he obtain'd his wishes, oft abused her, John. This was foul play, He scaped me yester-night: Which if he dare again adventure for- A Petr. Only thus; by word of mouth to carry him challenge from me, that so (if he have ho nour in him) We may decide all difference between us. John. Fair and noble, And I will do it home. When shall I visit ye? For at the castle, six miles hence, we are sure that our two curious coxcombs have been so long a hunting after. Fred. Why do ye hope so? John. Why, because first she is no maid, and next because she is handsome; there are two reasons for you: now do you find out a third, a better, if you can. For take this, Frederick, for a certain rule, since she loves the sport, she'll never give it over; and therefore (if we have good luck) in time may fall to our share. Fred. Very pretty reasons indeed? But I thought you had known some particulars, that made you conclude this to be the woman. John. Yes, I know her name is Constantia. Fred. That now is something; but I cannot believe her dishonest for all this: she has not one loose thought about her. John. It's no matter, she's loose i' th' hilts, by Heaven. There has been stirring, fumbling with men, Frederick. Fred. There may be such a slip. John. And will be, Frederick, while the old game's a-foot. I fear the boy too will prove hers I took up. Fred. Good circumstances may cure all this yet. John. There thou hit'st it, Frederick. Come, let's walk in, and comfort her-that she is here, is nothing yet suspected. Anon, I shall tell thee why her brother came, (who, by this light, is a noble fellow) and what honour he has done to me, a stranger, in calling me to serve him. There be irons heating for some, on my word, Frederick. ACT III. SCENE I. [Exeunt. Ant. I say 'tis fit you should. Fred. Get ye in, I'll answer ye anon, Sir. [Exit ANT. Now your grief, what is't? for I can guessLand. Ye may, with shame enough, If there was shame amongst you-nothing thought on, But how ye may abuse my house: not satisfied Because I bear, and bear, and carry all, Fred. No more of these words, Wholesome, and ye said handsome. But you, Beast that I was to believe ye Fred. Leave your suspicion; For as I live there's no such thing. And 'twere not for mine honour- Your house, and you too, if you dare believe me, [crying, Land. And I tell thee he has a woman here. Are well enough: sleek up yourself, leave Ant. I tell thee 'tis then the better for him. So frumpt up with a fool? Well, saucy sirrah, Best hang a sign-post up, to the signiors, Enter FREDERICK. Ant. "Twould be a great ease to your age. Fred. How now? What's the matter, landlady? Land. What's the matter! Ye use me decently among ye, gentlemen. I will not be thus treated, that I will not. Thou took'st me up at every word I spoke, For 1 must have ye entertain this lady know her, You will find your own fault; no more words, but do it. She makes the rarest faces Fred. Go, and do it, And do not mind this fellow. [Exit LANDLADY, and comes back again pre- Enter ANTONIO, SURGEON, and a GENTLEMAN. sently. John. What, again? on hills, Nay, then it is decreed; though hills were set [through. And seas met seas, to guard thee, I would Lund. Odd's my witness, if you ruffle me, I'll spoil your sweet face for you, that I will. Go, go to the door, there's a gentleman there would speak with ye. John. Upon my life, Petruchio. Good, dear landlady, carry him into the dining-room, and I'll wait upon him presently. Land. Well, Don John, the time will come that I shall be even with you. [Exit. John. I must be gone; yet if my project hold, You shall not stay behind: I'll rather trust A eat with sweet milk, Frederick. By her face, Fred. Yes, any thing. Con. The gentleman, I find, is too resolute, Too hot and fiery for the cause as ever You did a virtuous deed, for honour's sake, Go with him, and allay him: your fair temper, A noble disposition, like wish'd showers, May quench those eating fires, that would spoil all else. I see in him destruction. Fred. I will do it: And 'tis a wise consideration, To me a bounteous favour. Hark ye, John, I will go with ye. John. No. Fred. Indeed I will Ye go upon a hazard-no denial For as I live I'll go. John. Then make ye ready, For I am straight on horseback, Fred. My sword on, and I am as ready as you. What my best labour, With all the art I have, can work upon 'em, Be sure of, and expect a fair end; the old gentlewoman Shall wait upon ye; she is discreet and secret; Ye may trust her in all points. Gent. What symptoms do ye find in him? Sur. None, Sir, dangerous, if he'd be ruled. Gent. Why, what does he do? Sur. Nothing that he should. First, he will let no liquor down but wine, and then he has a fancy that he must be dressed always to the tune of John Dory. Gent. How, to the tune of John Dory? Sur. Why, he will have fiddlers, and make them play and sing it to him all the while. Gent. An odd fancy, indeed. Ant. Give me some wine. Sur. I told ye so-'Tis death, Sir. shall recover with the help of barley-water Ant. "Tis a horse, Sir. Dost thou think I only? Gent. Fy, Antonio, you must be governed, Ant. Why, Sir, he feeds me with nothing but rotten roots and drowned chickens, stewed pericraniums and pia-maters; and when I go to bed (by Heaven 'tis true, Sir) he rolls me up in lints, with labels at 'em, that I am just the man i' th' almanac, my head and face is in Aries' place. Sur. Will it please you to let your friends see you opened. Ant. Will it please you, Sir, to give me a brimmer? I feel my body open enough for that. Give it me, or I'll die upon thy hand, and spoil thy custom. Sur. How, a brimmer? Ant. Why, look ye, Sir, thus I am used still; I can get nothing that I want. In how long time canst thou cure me? Sur. In forty days. Ant. I'll have a dog shall lick me whole in twenty. In how long canst thou kill me? Sur. Presently. Ant. Do it that's the shorter, and there's more delight in it. Gent. You must have patience. Ant. Man, I must have business-this foolish fellow hinders himself-I have a dozen rascals to hurt within these five days. Good man-mender, stop me up with parsely, like stuffed beef, and let me walk abroad. Sur. You shall walk shortly. Aut. I will walk presently, Sir, and leave your sallads there, your green salves, and your oils; I'll to my old diet again, strong food, and rich wine, and try what that will do. Sur. Well, go thy ways, thou art the maddest old fellow I ever met with. [Exeunt Enter 1st CONSTANTIA and LANDLADY. Con. I have told ye all I can, and more thar. yet Those gentlemen know of me. But are they Such strange creatures, say you? Land. There's the younger, Don Juan, the errant'st Jack in all this city: The other time has blasted, yet he will stoop, 1233 We'll fly no more to day. O, my bless'd fortune, THE CHANCES. The most incomprehensible whore-master- He brought home one; I pity her that bore it, Con. How! Lund. 'Tis true, lady. Con. Was it a boy too? Land. A brave boy; deliberation, [cloth And judgment show'd it's getting, as I'll say for him. He's as well placed for that sport—— Con. May see it? For there is a neighbour of mine, a gentle woman, Has had a late mischance, which willingly Land. Ye shall see it, But what do you think of these men, now ye know 'em? Be wise, Ye may repent too late else; I but tell ye Con. I am advised. Land. No more words then; do that, And instantly, I told ye of: be ready. Don John, I'll fit ye for your frumps. Con. It shall be. But shall I see this child? Land. Within this half hour. Let's in, and think better. [Exeunt. Enter PETRUCHIO, DON JOHN, and FREDERICK. John. Sir, he is worth your knowledge, and a gentleman (If I that so much love him may commend him) That's full of honour; and one, if foul play Should fall upon us (for which fear 1 brought him,) Will not fly back for filips. Petr. Ye much honour me, And once more I pronounce ye both mine. Is that below i' th' valley there? Petr. They are so ; 'tis the duke, 'tis even he, Sirrah, draw back the horses till we call ye. Have I so fairly met the man? Dismiss your train a little. And out of hearing, I command ye. Ye have wrong'd a gentleman beyond all Beyond the mediation of all friends. Duke. The man, and manner of wrong? The wrong, ye have dishonoured his sister. And hear me a little. This gentleman's As true, I have enjoy'd her: no less truth, Suffer disgrace, or ruin, by my pleasures; She is my wife, contracted before Heaven, But for his jealous nature. John. Your pardon, Sir; I am fully satisfied. |