But what is smear'd and shameful! I must 1 Gent. But think better. All that is fair in man, all that is noble, I wish it with my soul, so much I tremble Honour, my noble friends, that idol Honour, That all the world now worships, not PetruMust do this justice. Ant. Let it once be done, [chio, Ant. But then, be sure ye kill him1! 2 Gent. Is the cause So mortal, nothing but his life Petr. Believe me, A less offence has been the desolation 2 Gent. No other way to purge it? Petr. There is, but never to be hop'd for. 2 Gent. Think an hour more: [you, And if then you find no safer road to guide We'll set up our rests too. Ant. Mine's up already; And hang hin, for my part, goes less than life! [swords 2 Gent. If we see noble cause, 'tis like our May be as free and forward as your words. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter Don John. John. The civil order of this town Bologna Makes it belov'd and honour'd of all travellers, As a most safe retirement in all troubles; Besides the wholesome seat, and noble temper Of those minds that inhabit it, safely wise, And to all strangers virtuous. But I see My admiration has drawn night upon me, And longer to expect my friend may pull me Into suspicion of too late a stirrer, Which all good governments are jealous of : I'll home, and think at liberty. Yet, certain, 'Tis not so far night as I thought; for, see, A fair house yet stands open; yet all about it Are close, and no light stirring: There may be foul play. I'll venture to look in; if there be knaves, may do a good office. I Woman [within]. Signor? John. What? How's this? Woman [within]. Fabritio? John. This is a woman's tongue; here may be good done. Woman [within]. Who's there? Fabritio? Woman [within]. Where are you? [sake! Woman [within]. Oh, come, for Heaven's John. I must see what this means. Enter Woman, with a child. Woman. I have staid this long hour for you. Make no noise, secret; For things are in strange trouble. Here; be [eyes watch us 'Tis worth your care. Be gone now: More be for our safeties. Than may John. Hark you! Woman. Peace! Good night. [Exit. John. She's gone, and I am loaden; For tune for me! 1 1 Gent. But then be sure ye kill him.] Mr. Seward, observing that these words did not suit the moderate character of the Gentlemen, gives them to Petruchio. They are much more suitable to Antonio, we think, who is crying out for blood through the whole scene. Boot-halling.] Most probably, an indecent allusion. In Monsieur Thomas, one of Hylas's objections to matrimony is, because he would not cobble other men's old boots,' VOL. II, Q be peeping Into men's houses, where I had no business, And make myself a mischief? 'Tis well carried! I must take other men's occasions on me, And be I know not whom! Most finely handled! [chase? What have I got by this now? what's the purA piece of evening arras-work, a child, Indeed an infidel: This comes of peeping! A lump got out of laziness. Good Whitebread, [have I Let's have no bawling with you! 'Sdeath, Known wenches thus long, all the ways of wenches, Their snares and subtilties; have I read over All their school-learnings, div'd into their quiddits, And am I now bum-fiddled with a bastard? Fetch'd over with a card of five, and in mine Whose-e'er it is, sure 't had a wealthy mother; And ten to one would kill it; a more sin Let you and I be jogging; your starv'd treble And thro' a world of dangers am flown to Be full of haste and care, we are undone else. Where are your people? which way must we For Heav'n sake, stay not here, sir. [travel? Fred. What may this prove? Con. Alas, I am mistaken, lost, undone, For ever perish'd! Sir, for Heav'n sake, tell you a gentleman ? Are Fred. I am. Con. Of this place? Fred. No, born in Spain. Con. As ever you lov'd honour, [me, As ever your desires may gain their ends, Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit For I am forc'd to trust you! Fred. You have charm'd me; Humanity and Honour bid me help you, And if I fail your trust 3 To point] signifies completely, as we now say to a hair. ♦ Consume myself in candles. Mr. Seward, on recommendation of Mr. Sympson, reads, Consume myself in caudies. Sec Lovers' Progress, act iv. Con. The time's too dangerous To stay your protestations: I believe you— Alas, I must believe you. From this place, Good noble sir, remove me instantly, And for a time, where nothing but yourself, And honest conversation, may come near me, In some secure place, settle me: What I am, And why thus boldly I commit my credit Into a stranger's hand, the fears and dangers That force me to this wild course, at more I shall reveal unto you. [leisure Fred. Come, be hearty; He must strike thro' my life that takes you from me. [Exeunt. SCENE VIII. Enter Petruchio, Antonio, and two Gentlemen. Petr. He will sure come. Are ye well arm'd? Ant. Ne'er fear us: Here's that will make 'em dance without a fiddle. [friends, Petr. We are to look for no weak foes, my Nor unadvis'd ones. Aut. Best gamesters make the best game; We shall fight close and handsome then. 1 Gent. Antonio, You are a thought too bloody. Ant. Why? All physicians And penny almanacks allow the opening Of veins this month. Why do you talk of bloody? What come we for? to fall to cuffs for apples? His credit like a quart pot knock'd together, What should inen do allied to these disgraces? Lick o'er his enemy, sit down, aud dance him 2 Gent. You are as far o'th' bow-hand now 5. Ant. And cry, [more, child?' That's my fine boy; thou wilt do so no Petr. Here are no such cold pities. Aut. By saint Jaques, [Andrew, They shall not find me one! Here'sold tough A special friend of mine; an he but hold, I'll strike 'em such a hornpipe! Knocks I come for, And the best blood I light on; I profess it; Not to scare coster-mongers: If i lose mine own, John. Have I not sworn unto you 'Tis none of mine, and shew'd you how I found it? you [get it; Lund. You found an easy fool that let Sh'had better have worn pasterns. John. Will you hear me? Land. Oathis? what do you care for oaths, [know ye? to gain your ends, John. Hear'n forbid, mother! [coners! 5 Bow-hand.] A sea-term, derived from the bow of a ship; which, says Dr. Johnson, begins at the loof and compassing ends of the stern, and ends at the sternmost parts of the forecastle. 6 Your brats, got out of Alligant.] In Rowley's Match at Midnight, Randal and Ancient Young quarrelling, Sim, another of the characters, interposes, Gentlemen, there's Alegant in the house; 'pray set no more abronch.' The Landlady here means, Your brats produced by intoxication and faithless promises.' ૨૧ matins. Not before day, could hold you from the [pray'd well, Were these your bo-peep prayers? You've And with a learned zeal; watch'd well too. Your Saint, [sicker! It seems, was pleas'd as well. Still sicker, Enter Anthony, with a bottle of wine. John. There is no talking to her 'till I've drench'd her. [draught; Give me. Here, mother, take a good round "Twill purge spleen from your spirits: Deeper, mother. [mend all. Land. Ay, ay, son, you imagine this will John. All, i'faith, mother. Land, I confess the wine Will do his part. John. I'll pledge you. John. I know your meaning, mother; touch it once more; [draught, Alas, you look not well; take a round (It warms the blood well, and restores the And then we'll talk at large. [colour) [of? Land. A civil gentleman? A stranger? one the town holds a good regard John. Nay, I will silence thee. Land. One that should weigh his fair name? Oh, a stitch! [good mother; John. There's nothing better for a stitch, Make no spare of it; as you love your health, Mince not the matter. Land. As I said, a gentleman? Lodge in my house? Now Heav'n's my comfort, Signor John. I look'd for this. [me thus ; I ever found your kindness, and acknowledge Land. No, no, I am a fool to counsel you. Where is the infant? come, let's see your workmanship. ['tis, and a lusty one. John. None of mine, mother; but there Land. Heav'n bless thee, Thou hadst a hasty making; but the best is, 'Tis many a good man's fortune. As I live, Your own eyes, Signor; and the nether lip As like you, as y' had spit it. John. I am glad on't." Lund. Bless me, what things are these? John. I thought my labour [jewels, Was not all lost. 'Tis gold, and these are Bath rich, and right, I hope. Land. Well, well, son John, I see you are a woodman, and can chuse Your deer, tho' it be i'th' dark; all your dis cretion Is not yet lost; this was well clapt aboard : Here I am with you now; when, as they say, Your pleasure comes with profit; when ye must needs do, Do where ye may be done to, 'tis a wisdom Becomes a young man well: Be sure of one thing, Lose not your labour and your time together, It seasons of a fool, son; time is precious, Work wary whilst you have it; since you must traffick [Signor; Sometimes this slippery way, take sure hold, Trade with no broken merchants, make your lading As you would make your rest7, adventurously, But with advantage ever. John. All this time, mother, The child wants looking-to, wants meat and nurses. [have all, Land. Now blessing o' thy care! It shall And instantly: I'll seek a nurse myself, son. 'Tis a sweet child! Ah, my young Spaniard! Take you no further care, sir. John. Yes, of these jewels, [yours, I must, by your leave, mother. These are To make your care the stronger; for the rest I'll find a master. The gold, for bringing up I freely render to your charge. Land. No more words, [on't, [me: Nor no more children, good son, as you love This may do well. John. I shall observe your morals. About the like adventure; he told me, will not, [Exit. John. Why should he stay thus? There may be some ill chance in't: Sleep I [pleas'd, Before I've found him. Now this woman's I'll seek my friend out, and my care is cas'd. [Exit. ▾ As you would make your rest.] This is an allusion to fencing. So Mercutio says of the duellist Tibalt, rests his minum; one, two,' &c. in which words he at once alludes to the different sciences of musick and defence. seamen In desperate storms stem with a little rudder The tumbling ruins of the ocean; So with their cause and swords do they do dangers. Say we were sure to die all in this venture, 2 Gent. You may, sir; But with what safety? [us 1 Gent. Since 'tis come to dying, You shall perceive, sir, here be those amongst Can die as decently as other men, And with as little ceremony. On, brave sir. Duke. That's spoken heartily. 1 Gent. And he that flinches, May he die lousy in a ditch! Duke. No more dying; There's no such danger in it. What's o'clock? 3 Gent. Somewhat above your hour. Duke. Away then quickly; Make no noise, and no trouble will attend us. SCENE XI. [Exeunt. Join'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect [you, me, And worth a woman's trust: Let it become (I do beseech you, sir) for all your kindness, To render with my thanks, this worthiess triI may be longer troublesome. Fred. Fair offices [fle; [lady, Are still their own rewards: Heav'n bless me, From selling civil courtesies! May it please If you will force a favour to oblige me, you, Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfy me For what good angel I'm engag'd. Con. It shall be, For I am truly confident you're honest: The abstract of all beauty, soul of sweetness! Defend me, honest thoughts, I shall grow [Heav'ns, wild else! What eyes are there, rather what little To stir men's contemplations! what a Paradise [be temperate Runs thro' each part she has! Good blood, I must look off; too excellent an object Confounds the sense that sees it.-Noble lady, If there be any further service to cast on me, Let it be worth my life, so much I honour ye, Or the engagement of whole families———— Con. Your service is too liberal, worthy sir; Thus far I shall entreat Fred. Command me, lady; You make your power too poor, With all convenient haste, you would retire Fred. 'Tis done. [press'd Con. There, if you find a gentleman opWith force and violence, do a man's office, And draw your sword to rescue him. Fred. He's safe, Be what he will; and let his foes be devils, Does all, engages all, works thro' all dangers: Now I say Beauty can do more: The king's exchequer, Nor all his wealthy Indies, could not draw me All our endeavours and our motions, [Exit. |