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Made now-a-days with malt, that their affections
Are never sober; but, like drunken people,
Founder at every new fame? I do believe
That men in love are ever drunk, as drunken men
Are ever loving.

Ant. Pr'ythee, be thou sober,

And know that they are none of those, not guilty
Of the least vanity of love: only a doubt
Fame might too far report, or rather flatter
The graces of this woman, made them curious
To find the truth; whick, since they find so,
Lock'd up from their searches; they are now re-
solv'd

To give the wonder over.

Pet. Would they were resolv'd

To give me some new shoes too; for I'll be sworn
These are e'en worn out to the reasonable soles
In their good worships' business: and some sleep
Would not do much amiss, unless they mean
To make a bellman of me. Here they come.
[Exeunt.

Enter Don JOHN and Don FREDERICK. John. I would we could have seen her though; for sure

She must be some rare creature, or report lies: All men's reports too.

Fred. I could well wish I had seen Constantia : But, since she is so conceal'd, plac'd where No knowledge can come near her, so guarded As 'twere impossible, though known, to reach her, I have made up my belief.

John. Hang me, from this hour,

If I more think upon her;

But, as she came a strange report unto me,
So the next fame shall lose her.

Fred. 'Tis the next way—

But whither are you walking?
John. My old round,

After my meat, and then to bed.
Fred. 'Tis healthful.

John. Will you not stir?
Fred. I have a little business.

John. I'd lay my life, this lady still-
Fred. Then you would lose it.
John. Pray, let's walk together.
Fred. Now I cannot.

John. I have something to impart.
Fred. An hour hence

I will not miss to meet ye.

John. Where?

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As day must come again, as clear as truth,
And open as belief can lay it to me,
That I am basely wrong'd, wrong'd above re-
compence,

Maliciously abus'd, blasted for ever

In name and honour, lost to all remembrance, But what is smear'd and shameful: I must kill him,

Necessity compels me.

2 Gent. But think better.

Petr. There's no other cure left; yet witness with me

All that is fair in man, all that is noble:
I am not greedy for this life I seek for,
Nor thirst to shed man's blood; and would
'twere possible,

I wish it with my soul, so much I tremble
T'offend the sacred image of my Maker,
My sword should only kill his crimes: no, 'tis
Honour, honour, my noble friends, that idol ho-

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Petr. To perform it,

So much I am tied to reputation,

And credit of my house, let it raise wild-fires, And storms that toss me into everlasting ruin, Yet I must through; if ye dare side me.

Ant. Dare!

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John. The civil order of this city Naples Makes it belov'd and honour'd of all travellers, As a most safe retirement in all troubles; Beside the wholesome seat and noble temper Of those minds that inhabit it, safely wise, And to all strangers courteous. But I see My admiration has drawn night upon me, And longer to expect my friend may pull me Into suspicion of too late a stirrer,

Which all good governments are jealous of.
I'll home, and think at liberty: yet certain,
'Tis not so far night as I thought; for see,
A fair house yet stands open, yet all about it
Are close, and no lights stirring; there may be
foul play;

I'll venture to look in. If there be knaves,
I may do a good office.

Within. Signior!

John. What! How is this?

Within. Signior Fabritio! John. I'll go nearer.

Within. Fabritio?

John. This is a woman's tongue; here may be good done.

Within. Who's there? Fabritio?
John. Ay.

Within. Where are you?

John. Here.

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John. Was ever man so paid for being curious?
Ever so bobb'd for searching out adventures,
As I am? Did the devil lead me? Must I needs
be peeping

Into men's houses where I had no business,
And make myself a mischief? 'Tis well carried!
I must take other men's occasions on me,
And be I know not whom : most finely handled!
What have I got by this now? What's the pur-
chase?

A piece of evening arras-work, a child,
Indeed an infidel! This comes of peeping!
A lump got out of laziness! Good white bread,
Let's have no bawling with ye. 'Sdeath, have I
Known wenches thus long, all the ways of wen-

ches,

Their snares and subtleties? Have I read over All their school learning, dived into their quiddits,

And am I now bumfiddled with a bastard! Fetch'd over with a card o' five, and in my old days,

After the dire massacre of a million

Of maidenheads, caught the common way, i' th' night too

Under another's name, to make the matter
Carry more weight about it? Well, Don John,
You will be wiser one day, when ye've pur-
chas'd

A bevy of those butter-prints together,
With searching out conceal'd iniquities,
Without commission. Why it would never grieve

me,

If I had got this gingerbread: never stir'd me,
So I had had a stroke for it; 't had been justice
Then to have kept it; but to raise a dairy,
For other men's adultery, consume myself in
caudles,

sure

I shall reveal unto you.

Fred. Come, be hearty;

And scouring work, in nurses, bells, and babies, | That force me to this wild course, at more lei-
Only for charity, for mere I thank you,
A little troubles me: the least touch for it,
Had but my breeches got it, it had contented me.
Whose e'er it is, sure it had a wealthy mother,
For 'tis well cloth'd, and if I be not cozen'd,
Well lin'd within. To leave it here were bar-
barous,

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Are ye

me,

a gentleman ?

Fred. I am.

Con. Of this place?

Fred. No, born in Spain.

Con. As ever you lov'd honour,

As ever your desires may gain their end,
Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit,
For I'm forc'd to trust ye.

Fred. Y' have charm'd me,
Humanity and honour bids me help ye:
And if I fail your trust→→→→

Con. The time's too dangerous To stay your protestations: I believe ye. Alas! I must believe ye. From this place, Good, noble sir, remove me instantly. And for a time, where nothing but yourself, And honest conversation, may come near me, In some secure place settle me. What I am, And why thus boldly I commit my credit Into a stranger's hand, the fear and dangers

He must strike through my life that takes you from me. [Exeunt.

Enter PETRUCHIO, ANTONIO, and two Gentle

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Ant. Best gamesters make the best play; We shall fight close and home then.

1 Gent. Antonio,

You are thought too bloody.

Ant. Why? All physicians,

And penny almanacks, allow the opening
Of veins this month. Why do you talk of bloody?
What come we for? to fall to cuffs for apples?
What, would you make the cause a cudgel-
quarrel?

Petr. Speak softly, gentle cousin.
Ant. I will speak truly.

What should men do, allied to these disgraces,
Lick o'er his enemy, sit down and dance him?-
2 Gent. You are as far o' th' bow-hand now.
Ant. And cry,

That's my fine boy, thou wilt do so no more, child? Petr. Here are no such cold pities.

Ant. By St Jaques,

They shall not find me one! Here's old tough Andrew,

A special friend of mine, and he but hold,
I'll strike them such a hornpipe! Knocks I come
for,

And the best blood I light on: I profess it,
Not to scare costermongers. If I lose my own,
My audit's lost, and farewell five-and-fifty.

Petr. Let's talk no longer. Place yourselves with silence

As I directed ye; and when time calls us,
As ye are friends, so shew yourselves.
Ant. So be it.

[Exeunt.

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You're deceiv'd in me, sir, I am none
Of those receivers.

John. Have I not sworn unto you,

'Tis none of mine, and shew'd you how I found it? Land. Ye found an easy fool that let you get it. John. Will you hear me?

Land. Oaths! what care you for oaths to gain your ends;

When ye are high and pamper'd? What saint
know ye?

Or what religion, but your purpos'd lewdness,
Is to be look'd for of ye? Nay, I will tell ye—
You will then swear like accus'd cut-purses,
As far off truth too; and lie beyond all falconers:
I'm sick to see this dealing.

John. Heaven forbid, mother.
Land. Nay, I am very sick.
John. Who waits there?
Pet. [Within.] Sir!

John. Bring down the bottle of Canary wine.
Land. Exceeding sick, Heaven help me!
John. Haste ye, sirrah.

I must e'en make her drunk. [Aside.] Nay, gentle

mother

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Land. I did not think you would have us❜d me
thus;

A woman of my credit, one, Heaven knows,
That loves you but too tenderly.
John. Dear mother,

I ever found your kindness, and acknowledge it.
Land. No, no, I am a fool to counsel ye.
Where's the infant?

Come, let's see your workmanship.
John. None of mine, mother:
But there 'tis, and a lusty one.

Land. Heaven bless thee,

Thou hadst a hasty making; but the best is,
'Tis many a good man's fortune. As I live,
Your own eyes, signior; and the nether lip
As like ye, as ye had spit it.

Land. Now fy upon ye! was it for this purpose, You fetch'd your evening walks for your devo-I tions?

For this, pretended holiness? No weather,
Not before day, could hold you from the matins.
Were these your bo-peep prayers? Ye've pray'd
well,

And with a learned zeal have watch'd well too;
your saint

It seems was pleas'd as well. Still sicker, sicker!

Enter PETER with a Bottle of Wine.

John. There is no talking to her till I have drench'd her.

Give me. Here, mother, take a good round draught.

It will purge spleen from your spirits; deeper,

mother.

Land. Aye, aye, son; you imagine this will

mend all.

John. All, i'faith, mother.
Land. I confess the wine

Will do his part.

John. I'll pledge ye.

Land. But, son John

John. I know your meaning, mother, touch it

once more.

Alas! you look not well, take a round draught,
It warms the blood well, and restores the colour,
And then we'll talk at large.

Land. A civil gentleman!

John. I am glad on't.

Land. Bless me! what things are these?
John. I thought my labour

Was not all lost: 'tis gold, and these are jewels,
Both rich and right, I hope.

Land. Well, well, son John,

see ye're a woodman, and can choose
Your deer, though it be i' th' dark; all your dis-
cretion

Is not yet lost; this was well clapp'd aboard;
Here I am with ye now, when, as they say,
Your pleasure comes with profit; when you must
needs do,

Do where you may be done to; 'tis a wisdom
Becomes a young man well: be sure of one thing,
Lose not your labour and your time together;
It seasons of a fool, son; time is precious,
Work wary whilst you have it. Since you must

traffic

Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold, signior;

Trade with no broken merchants; make your
lading

As you would make your rest, adventurously,
But with advantage ever.

John. All this time, mother,

The child wants looking to, wants meat and nurses.
Land. Now blessing o' thy heart, it shall have all;
And instantly I'll seek a nurse myself, son.
'Tis a sweet child-Ah, my young Spaniard!
Take you no further care, sir.

John. Yes, of these jewels

I must, by your good leave, mother; these are
yours,

To make your care the stronger; for the rest,
I'll find a master; the gold for bringing up on't,

A stranger! one the town holds a good regard of! I freely render to your charge.

John. Nay, I will silence thee there.

Land. No more words,

Land. One that should weigh his fair name!-Nor no more children, good son, as you love me;

Oh, a stitch!

John. There's nothing better for a stitch, good

mother,

Make no spare of it as you love your health;
Mince not the matter.

Land. As I said, a gentleman

This may do well.

John. I shall observe your morals.
But where's Don Frederick, mother?
Land. Ten to one,

About the like adventure; he told me,
He was to find you out.

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Able to ruin states, no safety left us,
Nor means to die like men, if instantly
You draw not back again.

Duke. May he be drawn,

And quarter'd too, that turns now; were I surer Of death than thou art of thy fears, and with death

More than those fears are too

1 Gent. Sir, I fear not.

Duke. I would not break my vow, start from my honour,

Because I may find danger; wound my soul
To keep my body safe!

1 Gent. I speak not, sir, Out of a baseness to ye.

Duke. No, nor do not

Out of a baseness leave me. What is danger
More than the weakness of our apprehensions?
A poor cold part o' th' blood. Who takes it
hold of?

Cowards and wicked livers: valiant minds
Were made masters of it: and as hearty seamen
In desperate storms stem with a little rudder
The tumbling ruins of the ocean;

So with their cause and swords do they do dangers.
Say we were sure to die all in this venture,
As I am confident against it; is there any
Amongst us of so fat a sense, so pamper'd,
Would choose luxuriously to lie a-bed,
And purge away his spirits; send his soul out
In sugar-sops and syrups? Give me dying
As dying ought to be, upon mine enemy;
Parting with markind, by a man that's manly.
Let them be all the world, and bring along
Cain's envy with them, I will on.

2 Gent. You may, sir,

But with what safety?

1 Gent. Since 'tis come to dying,

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That safety and civility ye wish for
Shall truly here attend you: no rude tongue
Nor rough behaviour knows this place; no
wishes,

Beyond the moderation of a man,

Dare enter here. Your own desires and inno

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For I am truly confident ye are honest.
The piece is scarce worth looking on.
Fred. Trust me,

The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness! Defend me, honest thoughts, I shall grow wild else.

What eyes are there! rather what little heavens, To stir men's contemplation! What a Paradise Runs through each part she has! Good blood, be temperate!

I must look off: too excellent an object

You shall perceive, sir, that here be those Confounds the sense that sees it. Noble lady,

amongst us,

Can die as decently as other men,

And with as little ceremony. On, brave sir.
Duke. That's spoken heartily.

1 Gent. And he that flinches,

May he die lousy in a ditch.
Duke. No more dying.

There's no such danger in't. What's o'clock?
3 Gent. Somewhat above your hour.
Duke. Away then, quickly,

Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us.

If there be any further service to cast on me, Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye, Or the engagements of whole families.

Con. Your service is too liberal, worthy sir. Thus far I shall entreat

Fred. Command me, lady:

You may make your power too poor.
Con. That presently,

With all convenient haste, you will retire
Unto the street you found me in.

Fred. 'Tis done.

[Exeunt.

Con, There if you find a gentleman oppress'd

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