Row. What a dull ass was I to let her go thus!
Upon my life she loves me still: well Paper,
Thou only monument of what I have had,
Thou all the love now left me, and now lost,
Let me yet kiss her hand, yet take my leave
Of what I must leave ever: Farewel Livia.
Oh bitter words, I'll read ye once again,
And then for ever study to forget ye.
How's this? let me look better on't: A Contract?
—A Contract, seal'd, and ratified,
Her Fathers hand set to it, and Moroso's:
I do not dream sure, let me read again,
The same still, 'tis a Contract.
Tra. 'Tis so Rowland;
And by the virtue of the [same,] you pay me
An hundred pound to morrow.
Row. Art sure Tranio,
We are both alive now?
Tra. Wonder not, ye have lost.
Row. If this be true, I grant it.
Tra. 'Tis most certain,
There's a Ring for you too, you know it.
Row. Yes.
Tra. When shall I have my money?
Row. Stay ye, stay ye,
When shall I marry her?
Tra. To night.
Row. Take heed now
You do not trifle me; if you do,
You'll find more payment, than your money comes to:
Come swear; I know I am a man, and find
I may deceive my self: swear faithfully,
Swear me directly, am I Rowland?
Tra. Yes.
Row. Am I awake?
Tra. Ye are.
Row. Am I in health?
Tra. As far as I conceive.
Row. Was I with Livia?
Tra. You were, and [had this] Contract.
Row. And shall I enjoy her?
Tra. Yes, if ye dare.
Row. Swear to all these.
Tra. I will.
Row. As thou art honest, as them hast a conscience,
As that may wring thee if thou liest; all these
To be no vision, but a truth, and serious.
Tra. Then by my honesty, and faith, and conscience;
All this is certain.
Row. Let's remove our places.
Swear it again.
Tra. By —— 'tis true.
Row. I have lost then, and Heaven knows I am glad on't.
Let's goe, and tell me all, and tell me how,
For yet I am a Pagan in it.
Tra. I have a Priest too,
And all shall come as even as two Testers. [Exeunt.
Scæna Quarta.
Enter Petronius, Sophocles, Moroso, and Petruchio born in a Coffin.
Petro. Set down the body, and one call her out.
Enter Maria in black, and Jaques.
You are welcome to the last cast of your fortunes;
There lies your Husband; there, your loving Husband,
There he that was Petruchio, too good for ye;
Your stubborn and unworthy way has kill'd him
E'er he could reach the Sea; if ye can weep,
Now ye have cause begin, and after death
Doe something yet to th' world, to think ye honest.
So many tears had say'd him, shed in time;
And as they are (so a good mind go with 'em)
Yet they may move compassion.
Mar. Pray ye all hear me,
And judge me as I am, not as you covet,
For that would make me yet more miserable:
'Tis true, I have cause to grieve, and mighty cause;
And truly and unfeinedly I weep it.
Soph. I see there's some good nature yet left in her.
Mar. But what's the cause? mistake me not, not this man,
As he is dead, I weep for; Heaven defend it,
I never was so childish: but his life,
His poor unmanly, wretched, foolish life,
Is that my full eyes pity, there's my mourning.
Petro. Dost thou not shame?
Mar. I doe, and even to water,
To think what this man was, to think how simple,
How far below a man, how far from reason,
From common understanding, and all Gentry,
While he was living here he walk'd amongst us.
He had a happy turn he dyed; I'll tell ye,
These are the wants I weep for, not his person:
The memory of this man, had he liv'd
But two years longer, had begot more follies,
Than wealthy Autumn Flies. But let him rest,
He was a fool, and farewel he; not pitied,
I mean in way of life, or action
By any understanding man that's honest;
But only in's posterity, which I,
Out of the fear his ruines might out-live him,
In some bad issue, like a careful woman,
Like one indeed, born only to preserve him,
Deny'd him means to raise.
Petru. Unbutton me,
—I die indeed else! Oh Maria,
Oh my unhappiness, my misery.
Petro. Goe to him whore; —— if he perish,
I'll see thee hang'd my self.
Petru. Why, why Maria?
Mar. I have done my worst, and have my end, forgive me;
From this hour make me what you please: I have tam'd ye,
And now am vow'd your servant: Look not strangely,
Nor fear what I say to you. Dare you kiss me?
Thus I begin my new love.
Petru. Once again?
Mar. With all my heart.
Petru. Once again Maria,
Oh Gentlemen, I know not where I am.
Soph. Get ye to bed then: there you'll quickly know Sir.
Petru. Never no more your old tricks?
Mar. Never Sir.
Petru. You shall not need, for as I have a faith
No cause shall give occasion.
Mar. As I am honest,
And as I am a maid yet, all my life
From this [hour, since ye] make so free profession,
I dedicate in service to your pleasure.
Soph. I marry, this goes roundly off.
Petru. Goe Jaques,
Get all the best meat may be bought for money,
And let the hogsheads blood, I am born again:
Well little England, when I see a Husband
Of any other Nation, stern or jealous,
I'll wish him but a woman of thy breeding;
And if he have not butter to [his bread],
Till [his teeth] bleed, I'll never trust my travel.
Enter Rowland, Livia, Byancha, and Tranio.
Petro. What have we here?
Row. Another Morris, Sir.
That you must pipe too.
Tra. A poor married couple
Desire an offering, Sir.
Bya. Never frown at it,
You cannot mend it now: there's your own hand;
And yours Moroso, to confirm the bargain.
Petron. My hand?
Mor. Or mine?
Bya. You'll find it so.
Petro. A trick,
By —— a trick.
Bya. Yes Sir, we trickt ye.
Liv. Father.
[P[e]tro.] Hast thou lain with him? speak!
Liv. Yes truly Sir.
Petro. And hast thou done the deed, boy?
Row. I have [done], Sir,
That, that will serve the turn, I think.
Petru. A match then,
I'll be the maker up of this: Moroso,
There's now no remedy you see, be willing;
[F]or] be, or be not, he must have the wench.
Mor. Since I am over-reach'd, let's in to dinner,
And if I can, I'll drink't away.
Tra. That's well said.
Petro. Well sirrah, you have plaid a trick, look to't,
And let me be a Grandsire within's twelve-month,
Or by this hand, I'll curtail half your fortunes.
Row. There shall not want my labour, Sir: your money;
Here's one has undertaken.
Tra. Well, I'll trust her,
And glad I have so good a pawn.
Row. I'll watch ye.
Petru. Let's in, and drink of all hands, and be jovial:
I have my Colt again, and now she carries;
And Gentlemen, whoever marries next,
Let him be sure he keep him to his Text. [Exeunt.