Hus. Pish! friend, there is no woman in the world
Can hold out in the end, if youth, shape, wit,
Met in one subject, do assault her aptly;
For failing once, you must not faint, but try
Another way: the paths of women's minds
Are crooked and diverse; they have byways
To lead you to the palace of their pleasures,
And you must woo discreetly. First, observe
The disposition of her you attempt:
If she be spriteful and heroical,
Possess her that you are valiant, and have spirit:
Talk nothing but of beating every man,
That is your hinderance; though you do not do it,
Or dare not, 'tis no matter. Be she free
And of a liberal soul, give bounteously
To all the servants; let your angels fly
About the room, although you borrow'd 'em.
If she be witty, so must your discourse:
Get wit, what shift soe'er you make for it,
Though't cost you all your land; and then a song
Or two is not amiss, although you buy 'em:
There's many in the town will furnish you.
Sub. But still, I tell you, you must use her roughly.
Beat her face black and blue, take all her clothes,
And give them to some punk: this will be ground
For me to work upon.
Hus. All this I have done.
I have left her now as bare that, should I die,
Her fortune, o' my conscience, would be
To marry some tobacco-man: she has nothing
But an old black-work waistcoat, which would serve
Exceeding well to sit i' th' shop, and light
Pipes for the lousy footmen. And, sweet friend,
First here's a jewel to present her; then,
Here is a sonnet writ against myself,
Which as thine own thou shalt accost her with.
Farewell, and happy success attend thee!
[Exit.
Sub. Ha, ha, ha!
[He reads.
"Fairest, still wilt thou be true
To man so false to thee?
Did he lend a husband's due,
Thou didst owe him loyalty;
But will curses, wanton[97] blows
Breed no change in thy white soul?
Be not a fool to thy first vows,
Since his first breach doth thy faith control.
No beauty else could be so chaste;
Think not thou honour'st woman then,
Since by thy conscience all disgrac'd
Are robb'd of the dear loves of men.
"Then grant me my desire, that vow to prove
A real husband, his adulterate love."
Took ever man more pains to be a cuckold!
O monstrous age, where men themselves, we see,
Study and pay for their own infamy.
SCENE II.
Enter Ingen, Maid, Lord Proudly, Brother like a woman: swords drawn.
Proudly. Give me my sister! I'll have her forth thy heart.