Scæna [Sexta.]
Enter Petronius, Petruchio, Moroso, Sophocles, and Tranio.
Petro. I am indifferent, though I must confess,
I had rather see her carted.
Tra. No more of that, Sir.
Soph. Are ye resolv'd to give her fair conditions?
'Twill be the safest way.
Petru. I am distracted,
Would I had run my head into a halter
When I first woo'd her: if I offer peace,
She'll urge her own conditions, that's the devil.
Soph. Why, say she do?
Petru. Say, I am made an Ass, then;
I know her aim: may I, with reputation
(Answer me this) with safety of mine honor,
(After the mighty manage of my first wife,
Which was indeed a fury to this Filly,
After my twelve strong labours to reclaim her,
Which would have made Don Hercules horn mad,
And hid him in his Hide) suffer this Cicely?
E're she have warm'd my sheets, e're grappell'd with me,
This Pinck, this painted Foist, this Cockle-boat,
To hang her Fights out, and defie me friends,
A well known man of war? if this be equal,
And I may suffer, say, and I have done?
Petron. I do not think you may.
Tra. You'll make it worse, Sir.
Soph. Pray hear me good Petruchio: but ev'n now,
You were contented to give all conditions,
To try how far she would carry: 'Tis a folly,
(And you will find it so) to clap the curb on,
E're you be sure it proves a natural wildness,
And not a forc'd. Give her conditions,
For on my life this trick is put into her.
Petron. I should believe so too.
Soph. And not her own.
Tra. You'll find it so.
Soph. Then if she flownder with you,
Clap spurs on, and in this you'll deal with temperance,
Avoid the hurry of the world.
Tra. And loose. [Musick above.
Mor. No honor on my life, Sir.
Petru. I will do it.
Petron. It seems they are very merry.
Enter Jaques.
Petru. Why [God] hold it.
Mor. Now Jaques?
Jaq. They are i'th' flaunt, Sir.
Soph. Yes we hear 'em.
Jaq. They have got a stick of Fiddles, and they firk it,
In wondrous ways, the two grand Capitano's,
(They brought the Auxiliary Regiments)
Dance with their coats tuckt up to their bare breeches,
And bid [them] kiss 'em, that's the burden;
They have got Metheglin, and audacious Ale;
And talk like Tyrants.
Petron. How knowest thou?
Jaq. I peept in
At a loose Lansket.
SONG.
A Health for all this day
To the woman that bears the sway
And wears the breeches;
Let it come, let it come.
Let this health be a Seal,
For the good of the Common-weal
the woman shall wear the breeches.
Lets drink then and laugh it
And merrily merrily quaff it
And tipple, and tipple a round
here's to thy fool,
and to my fool.
Come, to all fools
though it cost us wench, many a pound.
Tra. Hark.
Petro. A Song, pray silence. [All the Women above.
[Citizens and Countrey
women.]
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?
Bya. Yes.
Cun. Sir?
Soph. She has drank hard, mark her Hood.
Cun. You are—
Soph. Learnedly drunk, I'll 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 comly, and courageous.
Petru. Well, I have so.
Cun. And to the comfort of distressed damsels,
Women 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 Mistriss.
Cit. Forward Sister.
Petru. Do you mean to treat of all these?
Cit. Who shall let her?
Petro. Do you hear, Velvet hood, we come not now
To hear your doctrine.
Cun. For the first, I take it,
It doth divide it self into seven branches.
Petru. Hark you good Maria,
Have you got a Catechiser here?
Tra. Good zeal.
Soph. Good three pil'd predication, will you peace,
And hear the cause we come for?
Cun. Yes bob-tails
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. Swear forward Sister.
Cit. By all that's cordial, in this place we'll 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
His liberal Will, and march off with conditions
Noble, and worth her self.
Cun. She shall Tom Tilers,
And brave ones too, my Hood shall make a Hearse-cloth,
And [I'll lie] under it like Jone o' Gaunt,
E'r I go less, my Distaff stuck up by me,
For the eternal Trophy 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 Arms 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 antient chambring: next that
The Symbols of our secresie, silk Stockings,
Hew of our heels; our petticoats of Arms
Tear off our bodies, and our Bodkins break
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 return again
Into our former titles, [Da[y]ry]-maids.
Petru. No more wars: puissant Ladies, shew conditions
And freely I accept 'em.
Mar. Call in Livia;
She's in the Treaty too.