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 sirke 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,
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 conceive me?

Tra.
No by my troth.

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,

Tra.
No?

Row.
No without doubt, they sigh and shake the head,
And sometimes whistle dolefully.

Tra.
No tongue?

Row.
Yes Yranio, 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 foole first, 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.

Tra.
There.

Row.
VVork Tranio.

Tra.
You shall go sometimes where she is.

Row.
Yes straight.
This is the first good I ere got by woman.

Tra.
You would think it strange now, if an other beauty
As good as hers, say better.

Row.
Well.

Tra.
Conceive me,
This is no point o'th wager.

Row.
That's all one.

Tra.
Love you as much, or more, then she now hates you.

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.

Scæna Secunda. Enter Pedro, and Jaques.

Ped.
A paire of stocks bestride 'em, are they gone?

Jaq.
Yes they are gon; and all the pans i'th Town
Beating before 'em: what strange admonitions
They gave my Master, and how fearfully
They threaten'd, if he brok 'em?

Ped.
O' my conscience
Has found his full match now.

Jaq.
That I believe too.

Ped.
How did she entertaine him?

Iaq.
She lookt on him.

Ped.
But scurvely.

Iaq.
With no great affection
That I saw: and I heard some say he kiss'd her,
But 'twas upon a treaty, and some coppies
Say but her cheek.

Ped.
Iaques, what wouldst thou give
For such a wife now?

Iaq.
Full as many prayers
As the most zealous Puritane conceives
Out of the meditation of fat veale,
Or birds of prey, cram'd capons, against Players,
And to as good a tune too, but against her:
That heaven would blesse me from her: mark it Pedro,
If this house be not turn'd within this fortnight
With the foundation upward, i'le be carted.
My comfort is yet that those Amorities,
That came to back her cause, those heathen whores had
their hoods hallowed with sack.

Ped.
How div'lish drunk they were?

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 on't.

Ped.
Hang her.

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?

Jaq.
Yes,
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.

Scena tertia. Enter Petruchio, and Sophocles.

Soph.
Not let you touch her all this night?

Petru.
Not touch her.

Soph.
Where was your courage?

Petru.
Where was her obedience?
Never poore man was sham'd so; never Rascall
That keeps a stud of whores was us'd so basely.

Soph.
Pray you tell me one thing truly;
Do you love her?

Petru.
I would I did not, upon that condition
I past thee halfe my Land.

Soph.
It may be then,
Her modesty requir'd a little violence?
Some women love to struggle.

Petru.
She had it,
And so much that I sweat for't, so I did,
But to no end: I washt an Ethiope;
She swore my force might weary her, but win her
I never could, not should, till she consented;
And I might take her body prisoner,
But for her mind or appetite—

Soph.
Tis strange;
This woman is the first I ever read of,
Refus'd a warranted occasion,
And standing on so faire termes.

Petru.
I shall quit her.

Soph.
Us'd you no more art?

Petru.
Yes, I swore to her;
And by no little ones, if presently
Without more disputation on the matter,
She grew not neerer to me, and dispatcht me
Out of the pain I was, for I was nettl'd,
And willingly, and eagerly, and sweetly,

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 the 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 dore, and Servant and woman.
She shall be if I live a Doxy.

Soph.
Fy Sir.

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 purffle
All the sleeves down with pearle.

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?

Petru.
Yes, and shee'l run a tilt within this twelve-month

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 shall meet her morals
Er it be long I fear not.

Mar.
O good morrow.

Soph.
Good morrow Lady, how is't now.

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 maybe

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.

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 wise 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.

Scæna Quarta. Enter Livia, Byancha, Tranio, and Rowland.

Liv.
Then I must be content sir, with my fortune.

Row.
And I with mine.

Liv.
I did not think, a look,
Or a poore word or two, could have displanted
Such a fix'd constancy, and for your end too.

Row.
Come, come, I know your courses: there's no gewgaws,
Your Rings, and Bracelets, and the Purse you gave me,
The money's spent in entertaining you
At Plays, and Cherry-gardens.

Liv.
There's your Chain too.
But if you'l give me leave, Ile weare the haire still;
I would yet remember you.

Bya.
Give him his love wench;
The young man has imployment for't.

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.

Row.
Yes.

Bya.
Are ye honest?
I see you are young, and hansome.

Rew.
I am honest.

Bya.
Why that's wel said: and there's no doubt your judgement
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.

Row.
Lady,
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.

Row.
Come,
I shall kisse fifty pound away at this clap:
We'l have one more, and then farewel.

Liv.
Farewel.

Bya.
Wel, go thy waies, thou bearst a kind heart with thee.

Tra.
H'as made a stand.

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. Exeunt.

Scena quinta. Enter Jaques and Pedro.

Ped.
O Jaques, Jaques, what becomes of us?
Oh my sweet Master.

Jaq.
Run for a Physitian,
And a whole peck of Pothecaries, Pedro.
He wil die, didle, didle die: if they come not quickly,
And bring all people that are skilfull
In Lungs and Livers: raise the neiqhbours,
And all the Aquavite-bottles extant;
And, O the Parson, Pedro; O the Parson,
A little of his comfort, never so little;
Twenty to one you finde him at the Bush,
There's the best Ale.

Ped.
I fly. Exit Pedro. Enter Maria, and Servants.

Mar.
Out with the Trunks, ho:
Why are you idle? Sirha, up to th'Chamber,
And take the hangings down, and see the Linnen
Packt up, and sent away within this halfe houre
What are the Carts come yet? some honest body
Help down the chests of Plate, and some the wardrobe,
Alas we are undone else.

Jaq
Pray forsooth,
And I beseech ye, tell me, is he dead yet?

Mar.
No, but is drawing on: out with the Armour.

Jaq.
Then Ile goe see him.

Mar.
Thou art undone then fellow: no man that has
Been neere him come neere me. Enter Sophocles, and Petronius.

Soph.
Why how now Lady, what means this?

Petron.
Now daughter, how dos my sonne?

Mar.
Save all you can for Heaven sake. Enter Livia, Byancha, and Tranio.

Liv.
Be of good comfort sister.

Mar.
O my Casket.

Petron.
How do's thy husband woman?

Mar.
Get you gon, if you mean to save your lives: the sicknesse.

Petron.
Stand further off, I prethee.

Mar.
Is i'th house sir,
My husband has it now;
Alas he is infected, and raves extreamly:
Give me some counsell friends.

Bya.
Why lock the doores up,
And send him in a woman to attend him.

Mar.
I have bespoke two women and the City
Hath sent a watch by this time: meat nor money
He shall not want, nor prayers.

Petron.
How long is't
Since it first tooke him?

Mar.
But within this three houres. Enter Watch.
I am frighted from my wits:—O here's the watch;
Pray doe your Office, lock the doores up friends,
And patience be his Angel.

Tra.
This comes unlook'd for:

Mar.
Ile to the lodge; some that are kind and love me,
I know wil visit me. Petruchio within.

Petru.
Do you heare my Masters: ho, you that locke the doores up.

Petron.
Tis his voyce.

Tra.
Hold, and let's heare him.

Petru.
Wil ye starve me here: am I a Traytor, or an Heretick.
Or am I grown infectious?

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 wise, 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 Gentlewoman
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 sence sir,
Settle your state.

Petru.
Sirs, I am wel, as you are;

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 devil take the hinmost, I cry. Exit watch running. Enter Petruchio with a piece.

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 fire 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.

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