Petro. A Box o'th' ear do you say?
Mor. Yes sure, a sound one,
Beside my nose blown to my hand; if Cupid
Shoot Arrows of that weight, I'll swear devoutly,
H'as sued his Livery, and [is] no more a boy.
Petro. You gave her some ill language?
Mor. Not a word.
Petro. Or might be you were fumbling?
Mor. Would I had Sir.
I had been a forehand then; but to be baffl'd,
And have no feeling of the cause—
Petro. Be patient,
I have a medicine clapt to her back will cure her.
Mor. No sure it must be afore, Sir.
Petro. O' my conscience,
When I got these two wenches (who till now
Ne'r shew'd their riding) I was drunk with Bastard,
Whose nature is to form things like it self
Heady, and monstrous: did she slight him too?
Mor. That's all my comfort: a meer Hobby-horse
She made child Rowland: s'foot she would not know him,
Not give him a free look, not reckon him
Among her thoughts, which I held more than wonder,
I having seen her within's three days kiss [him]
With such an appetite as though she would eat him.
Petro. There is some trick in this: how did he take [it?]
Mor. Ready to cry; he ran away.
Petro. I fear her.
And yet I tell you, ever to my anger,
She is as tame as innocency; it may be
This blow was but a favour.
Mor. I'll be sworn 'twas well tied on then.
Petro. Goe too, pray forget it,
I have bespoke a Priest: and within's two hours
I'll have ye married; will that please you?
Mor. Yes.
Petro. I'll see it done my self, and give the Lady
Such a sound exhortation for this knavery
I'll warrant you, shall make her smell this month on't.
Mor. Nay good Sir be not violent.
Petro. Neither—
Mor. It may be
Out of her earnest love there grew a longing
(As you know women have such toys) in kindness,
To give me a box o'th' ear, or so.
Petro. It may be.
Mor. I reckon for the best still: this night then
I shall enjoy her.
Petro. You shall handsel her.
Mor. Old as I am, I'll give her one blow for't
Shall make her groan this twelve-month.
Petro. Where's your Joynture?
Mor. I have a Joynture for her.
Petro. Have your Council perus'd it yet?
Mor. No Council but the night, and your sweet daughter,
Shall e'r peruse that joynture.
Petro. Very well, Sir.
Moro. I'll no demurrers on't, nor no rejoynders.
The other's ready seal'd.
Petro. Come then let's comfort
My Son Petruchio, he's like little Children
That loose their baubles, crying ripe.
Mor. Pray tell me,
Is this stern woman still upon the flaunt
Of bold defiance?
Petro. Still, and still she shall be,
Till she be starv'd out, you shall see such justice,
That women shall be glad after this tempest,
To tie their husbands shooes, and walk their horses.
[Mor.] That were a merry world: do you hear the rumor?
They say the women are in insurrection,
And mean to make a—
Petro. They'll sooner
Draw upon walls as we do: Let 'em, let 'em,
We'll ship 'em out in Cuck-stools, there they'll sail
As brave Columbus did, till they discover
The happy Islands of obedience.
We stay too long, Come.
Mor. Now St. George be with us. [Exeunt.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Livia alone.
Liv. Now if I can but get in handsomely,
Father I shall deceive you; and this night
For all your private plotting, I'll no wedlock;
I have shifted sail, and find my Sisters safety
A sure retirement; pray to heaven that Rowland
Do not believe too far, what I said to him,
For yon old Foxcase forc'd me, that's my fear.
Stay, let me see, this quarter fierce Petruchio
Keeps with his Myrmidons, I must be suddain,
If he seize on me, I can look for nothing
But Marshal-Law; to this place have I scap'd him;
Above there.
Enter Maria and Byancha above.
Mar. Cheval' a.
Liv. A friend.
By. Who are you?
Liv. Look out and know.
Mar. Alas poor wench, who sent thee?
What weak fool made thy tongue his Orator?
I know you come to parly.
Liv. Y'are deceiv'd,
Urg'd by the goodness of your cause, I come
To do as you do.
Mar. Y'are too weak, too foolish,
To cheat us with your smoothness: do not we know
Thou hast been kept up tame?
Liv. Believe me.
Mar. No, prethee good Livia
Utter thy Eloquence somewhere else.
By. Good Cosin
Put up your Pipes; we are not for your palate
Alas we know who sent you.
Liv. O' my word—
By. Stay there; you must not think your word,
Or by your Maidenhead, or such Sunday oaths,
Sworn after Even-Song, can inveigle us
To lose our hand-fast: did their wisdoms think
That sent you hither, we would be so foolish,
To entertain our gentle Sister Sinon,
And give her credit, while the wooden Jade
Petruchio stole upon us: no good Sister,
Go home, and tell the merry Greeks that sent you,
Ilium shall burn, and I, as did Æneas,
Will on my back, spite of the Myrmidons,
Carry this warlike Lady, and through Seas
Unknown, and unbeliev'd, seek out a Land,
Where like a race of noble Amazons
We'll root our [se[l]ves], and to our endless glory
Live, and despise base men.
Liv. I'll second ye.
By. How long have you been thus?
Liv. That's all one, Cosin,
I stand for freedom now.
By. Take heed of lying;
For by this light, if we do credit you,
And find you tripping, his infliction
That kill'd the Prince of Orange, will be sport
To what we purpose.
Liv. Let me feel the heaviest.
Mar. Swear by thy Sweet-heart Rowland (for by your maiden-head,
I fear 'twill be too late to swear) you mean
Nothing but fair and safe, and honourable
To us, and to your self.
Liv. I swear.
By. Stay yet,
Swear as you hate Moroso, that's the surest,
And as you have a certain fear to find him
Worse than a poor dry'd Jack, full of more aches
Than Autumn has; more knavery, and usury,
And foolery, and brokery, than dogs-ditch:
As you do constantly believe he's nothing
But an old empty bag with a grey beard,
And that Beard such a bob-tail, that it looks
Worse than a Mares tail eaten off with Fillies:
As you acknowledge that young handsome wench
That lies by such a Bilboa blade that bends
With ev'ry pass he makes, to th' hilts, [most] miserable,
A dry Nurse to his [Coughs,] a fewterer
To such a nasty fellow, a robb'd thing
Of all delights youth looks for: and to end,
One cast away on course beef, born to brush
That everlasting Cassock that has worn
As many servants out, as the Northeast passage
Has consum'd Sailors: if you swear this, and truly
Without the reservation of a gown
Or any meritorious Petticoat,
'Tis like we shall believe you.
Liv. I do swear it.
Mar. Stay yet a little; came this wholsome motion
(Deal truly Sister) from your own opinion,
Or some suggestion of the Foe?
Liv. Nev'r fear me,
For by that little faith I have in Husbands,
And the great zeal I bear your cause, I come
Full of that liberty you stand for, Sister.
Mar. If we believe, and you prove recreant, Livia,
Think what a maim you give the noble Cause
We now stand up for: Think what women shall,
An hundred years hence, speak thee, when examples
Are look'd for, and so great ones, whose relations,
Spoke as we [do 'em] wench, shall make new customs.
By. If you be false, repent, go home, and pray,
And to the serious women of the City
Confess your self; bring not a sin so hainous
To load thy soul to this place: mark me Livia,
If thou be'st double, and betray'st our honors,
And we fail in our purpose: get thee where
There is no women living, nor no hope
There ever shall be.
Mar. If a Mothers daughter,
That ever heard the name of stubborn husband
[Find] thee, and know thy sin.
By. Nay, if old age,
One that has worn away the name of woman,
And no more left to know her by, but railing,
No teeth, nor eyes, nor legs, but wooden ones
Come but i'th' wind-ward of thee, for sure she'll smell thee;
Thou'lt be so rank, she'll ride thee like a night-Mare,
And say her Prayers back-ward to undo thee:
She'll curse thy meat and drink, and when thou marriest,
Clap a sound spell for ever on thy pleasures.
Mar. Children of five year old, like little Fairies,
Will pinch thee into motley: all that ever
Shall live, and hear of thee, I mean all women,
Will (like so many furies) shake their keys;
And toss their flaming distaffs o'r their heads,
Crying revenge: take heed, 'tis hideous:
Oh 'tis a fearful office, if thou hadst
(Though thou be'st perfect now) when thou cam'st hither,
A false imagination, get thee gone,
And as my learned Cosin said, repent,
This place is sought by soundness.
Liv. So I seek it,
Or let me be a most despis'd example.
Mar. I do believe thee, be thou worthy of it.
You come not empty?
Liv. No, here's Cakes, and cold meat,
And Tripe of proof: behold, here's Wine and Beer,
Be suddain, I shall be surpriz'd else.
Mar. Meet at the low parlour door, there lies a close way:
What fond obedience you have living in you,
Or duty to a man before you enter,
Fling it away, 'twill but defile our Off'rings.
By. Be wary as you come.
Liv. I warrant ye. [Exeunt.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter three Maids.
1 Mai. How goes your business Girls?
2. A foot, and fair.
3. If fortune favour us: away to your strength,
The Countrey Forces are arriv'd, be gone,
We are discover'd else.
1. Arm, and be valiant.
2. Think of our cause.
3. Our Justice.
1. 'Tis sufficient. [Exeunt.