Bya. Pray draw 'em softly, the least hurry, Sir,
Puts her to much impatience.
Petro. How is't daughter?
Liv. Oh very sick, very sick, yet somewhat
Better I hope; a little lightsomer,
Because this good man has forgiven me;
Pray set me higher; oh my head:
Bya. Well done wench.
Liv. Father, and all good people that shall hear me,
I have abus'd this man perniciously; was never old man humbled so;
I have scorn'd him, and call'd him nasty names,
I have spit at him,
Flung Candles ends in's beard, and call'd him harrow,
That must be drawn to all he does: contemn'd him,
For methought then, he was a beastly fellow.
(Oh [God] my side) a very beastly fellow:
And gave it out, his Cassock was a Barge-cloth,
Pawn'd to his predecessor by a Sculler,
The man yet living: I gave him purging comfits
At a great Christning once,
That spoil'd his Chamblet breeches; and one night
I strew'd the stairs with pease, as he past down;
And the good Gentleman (woe worth me for't)
Ev'n with this reverend head, this head of wisdom,
Told two and twenty stairs, good and true;
Mist not a step, and as we say, verbatim
Fell to the bottom, broke his casting Bottle,
Lost a fair Toad-stone, of some eighteen shillings,
Jumbled his Joynts together, had two stools,
And was translated. All this villany
Did I: I Livia, I alone, untaught.
Mor. And I unask'd, forgive it.
Liv. Where's Byancha?
Bya. Here Cosin.
Liv. Give me drink.
Bya. There.
Liv. Who's that?
Mor. Rowland.
Liv. Oh my dissembler, you and I must part.
Come nearer, Sir.
Row. I am sorry for your sickness.
Liv. Be sorry for your self, Sir, you have wrong'd me,
But I forgive you; are the Papers ready?
Bya. I have 'em here: wilt please you view 'em?
Petro. Yes.
Liv. Shew 'em the young man too, I know he's willing
To shift his sails too: 'tis for his more advancement;
Alas, we might have begger'd one another;
We are young both, and a world of children
Might have been left behind to curse our follies:
We had been undone Byancha, had we married,
Undone for ever, I confess I lov'd him,
I care not who shall know it, most intirely;
And once, upon my conscience, he lov'd me;
But farewel that, we must be wiser, cosin,
Love must not leave us to the world: have you done?
Row. Yes, and am ready to subscribe.
Liv. Pray stay then:
Give me the papers, and let me peruse 'em,
And so much time, as may afford a tear
At our last parting.
Bya. Pray retire, and leave her,
I'll call ye presently.
Petro. Come Gentlemen, the showre must fall.
Row. Would I had never seen her. [[Exeunt.]
Bya. Thou hast done bravely wench.
Liv. Pray Heaven it prove so.
Bya. There are the other papers: when they come
Begin you first, and let the rest subscribe
Hard by your side; give 'em as little light
As Drapers do their Wares.
Liv. Didst mark Moroso,
In what an agony he was, and how he cry'd most
When I abus'd him most?
Bya. That was but reason.
Liv. Oh what a stinking thief is this?
Though I was but to counterfeit, he made me
Directly sick indeed. Thames-street to him
Is a meer Pomander.
Bya. Let him be hang'd.
Liv. Amen.
Bya. And lie you still;
And once more to your business.
Liv. Call 'em in.
Now if there be a power that pities Lovers,
Help now, and hear my prayers.
Enter Petronius, Rowland, Tranio, Moroso.
Petro. Is she ready?
Bya. She has done her lamentations: pray go to her.
Liv. Rowland, come near me, and before you seal,
Give me your hand: take it again; now kiss me.
This is the last acquaintance we must have;
I wish you ever happy: there's the paper.
Row. Pray stay a little.
Petro. Let me never live more
But I do begin to pity this young fellow;
How heartily he weeps!
Bya. There's Pen and Ink, Sir.
Liv. Ev'n here I pray you. 'Tis a little Emblem
How near you have been to me.
Row. There.
Bya. Your hands too,
As witnesses.
Petro. By any means
To th' Book son.
Mor. With all my heart.
Bya. You must deliver it.
Row. There Livia, and a better love light on thee,
I can no more.
Bya. To this you must be witness too.
Petro. We will.
Bya. Do you deliver it now.
Liv. Pray set me up;
There Rowland, all thy old love back: and may
A new to [come exceed] mine, and be happy.
I must no more.
Row. Farewel:
Liv. A long farewel. [Exit Row.
Bya. Leave her by any means, till this wild passion
Be off her head: draw all the Curtains close,
A day hence you may see her, 'twill be better,
She is now for little company.
Petro. Pray tend her.
I must to horse straight, you must needs along too,
To see my son aboard: were but his wife
As fit for pity, as this wench, I were happy.
Bya. Time must do that too: fare ye well: to morrow
You shall receive a wife to quit your sorrow. [Exeunt.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Jaques, Pedro, and Porters, with Chest and Hampers.
Jaq. Bring 'em away Sirs.
Ped. Must the great Trunks go too?
Jaq. Yes, and the Hampers; nay, be speedy Masters;
He'll be at Sea before us else.
Ped. Oh Jaques,
What a most blessed turn hast thou!
Jaq. I hope so.
Ped. To have the Sea between thee and this woman,
Nothing can drown her tongue but a storm.
Jaq. By your leave,
We'll get us up to Paris with all speed;
For on my soul, as far as Amiens
She'll carry blank, away to Lyon-key
And ship 'em presently, we'll follow ye.
Ped. Now could I wish her in that Trunk:
Jaq. God shield man,
I had rather have a Bear in't.
Ped.Yes, I'll tell ye:
For in the passage, if a Tempest take ye,
As many doe, and you lie beating for it,
Then, if it pleas'd the fates, I would have the Master,
Out of a powerful providence, to cry,
Lighten the ship of all hands, or we perish;
Then this for one, as best spar'd, should by all means,
Over-board presently.
Jaq. O' that condition,
So we were certain to be rid of her,
I would wish her with us, but believe me Pedro,
She would spoil the fishing on this coast for ever.
For none would keep her company but Dog-fish,
As currish as her self; or Porpisces,
Made to all fatal uses: The two Fish-streets
Were she but once arriv'd amongst the Whitings,
Would sing a woful misereri Pedro,
And mourn in Poor John, till her memory
Were cast o' shore agen, with a strong Sea-breach:
She would make god Neptune, and his Fire-fork,
And all his demi-gods, and goddesses,
As weary of the Flemmish Channel, Pedro,
As ever boy was of the School, 'tis certain,
If she but meet him fair, and were well angred,
She would break his god-head.
Ped. Oh her tongue, her tongue.
Jaq. Rather her many tongues.
Ped. Or rather strange tongues.
Jaq. Her lying tongue.
Ped. Her lisping tongue.
Jaq. Her long tongue.
Ped. Her lawless tongue.
Jaq. Her loud tongue.
Ped. And her liquorish—
Jaq. Many other tongues, and many stranger tongues
Than ever Babel had to tell his ruines,
Were Women rais'd withal; but never a true one.
Enter Sophocles.
Soph. Home with your stuff agen, the journey's ended.
Jaq. What does your worship mean?
Soph. Your Master, Oh Petruchio, oh poor fellows.
Ped. Oh Jaques, Jaques.
Soph. Oh your Master's dead,
His body coming back, his wife, his devil;
The grief of —— her.
Jaq. Has kill'd him?
Soph. Kill'd him, kill'd him.
Ped. Is there no Law to hang her.
Soph. Get ye in,
And let her know her misery, I dare not
For fear impatience seize me, see her more,
I must away agen: Bid her for wife-hood,
For honesty, if she have any in her,
Even to avoid the shame that follows her.
Cry if she can, your weeping cannot mend it.
The body will be here within this hour, so tell her;
And all his friends to curse her. Farewel fellows. [Exit Soph.
Ped. Oh Jaques, Jaques.
Jaq. Oh my worthy Master.
Ped. Oh my most beastly Mistriss, hang her.
Jaq. Split her.
Ped. Drown her directly.
Jaq. Starve her.
Ped. Stink upon her.
Jaq. Stone her to death: may all she eat be Eggs.
Till she run kicking mad for men.
Ped. And he,
That man, that gives her remedy, pray Heav'n
He may ev'n ipso facto, lose his [longings.]
Jaq. Let's go discharge our selves, and he that serves her,
Or speaks a good word of her from this hour,
A [Sedgly] curse light on him, which is, Pedro;
The Fiend ride through him booted, and spurr'd, with a Sythe at's back. [Exeunt.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Rowland, and Tranio stealing behind him.