Land. Od's my witness, I will not be thus treated, that I will not. Thou took'st me up at every word I spoke, And thou think'st, because thou canst write and read, Our noses must be under thee. Fred. Dare you, sirrah ? Ant. Let but the truth be known, sir, I beseech you; She raves of wenches, and I know not what, sir. Land. Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet, Thou instrument of evil. Ant. As I live, sir, she's ever thus, till dinner. Fred. Get you in, sir; I'll answer you anon. [Exit ANTHONY. Now to your grief-what is't? for I can guessLand. You may, with shame enough, Don Frederick, If there were shame amongst you ;-nothing thought on, But how you may abuse my house. Fred. No more of these words, Nor no more murm'rings, woman: I did suspect your anger; But turn it presently and handsomely, And bear yourself discreetly to this lady; For such a one there is indeed. Land. "Tis well, sir. Fred. Leave off your devil's matins, and your me lancholies, Or we shall leave our lodgings. Land. But, mine honourAnd 'twere not for mine honourFred. Come, your honour, Your house, and you too, if you dare believe me, With all civility. When you know her, You'll find your own fault;-no more words, but do it. Land. You know, you may command me. Enter DON JOHN. John. Worshipful landlady, How does thy swanskin petticoat?-By Heav'n, Land. You'll leave this roguery, When you come to my years. John. By this light, Thou art not above fifteen yet! a mere girl! Thou hast not half thy teeth! Fred. Somebody knocks See who it is; and do not mind this fellow. [Knocking. Land. I beg, sir, that you'll use me with decorum. John. Ay, ay, I'll promise you, with nothing else. [Exit LANDLADY. Was there ever such a piece of touchwood? Fred. Pr'ythee, John, let her alone; she has been Well vex'd already-She'll grow stark mad, man. John. I would fain see her mad-An old mad wo man Fred. Don't be a fool. John. Is like a miller's mare, troubled with the tooth-ache! She makes the rarest faces Fred. Prythee, be sober. Enter LANDLADY. John. What, again! Nay, then it is decreed, though hills were set on hills, And seas met seas, to guard thee! I would through! Land. Od's my witness, if you ruffle me, I'll spoil your sweet face for you. John. Oh raptures! raptures! What, will you hurt [Kissing her. She runs after him. your own son? [She looks kind upon him. Land. Well, well, go, go to the door, there's a gentleman there would speak witk you. John. Upon my life, Petruchio;-good, dear landlady, carry him into the dining-room, and I'll wait upon him presently. Land. Well, Don John, the time will come that I shall be even with you. [Exit LANDLADY. John. I must begone about this business Won't you go too, Frederick? Fred. I am not requested you know-besides the Lady will want advice and consolation. John. Yes; and I know too, with all your modesty, That you will be ready to give it her. Fred. For shame, John, how can you ramble so? You know you may trust me. John. I had rather trust a cat with sweet milk, Frederick. Fred. I'll but speak to her, and follow you. John. Indeed? Fred, Indeed. John. Upon your honour? Fred. Upon my honour. John. And your modesty? Fred. Phoo! phoo! don't be a fool. John. Well, well, I shall trust you-now I'm easy. [Exit DON JOHN. Enter First CONSTANTIA. 1 Con. What, no way to divert this certain danger? Fred. Impossible! their honours are engag'd. 1 Con. Then there must be murder, and I the cause! Which, gen'rous sir, I shall no sooner hear of, Fred. It is granted. 1 Con. Your friend, sir, is I find, too resolute. Too hot and fiery for the cause: as ever You did a virtuous deed, for honour's sake, May quench those eating fires, that would spoil all else. I see in him destruction. Fred. I will do it--And it is a wise consideration: I'll after him, lady The old gentlewoman Shall wait upon you; she is discreet and secret, And you may trust her in all points. 1. Con. You are noble. Fred. And so I take my leave. I hope, lady, a happy issue for all this. 1 Con. All Heaven's care upon you, and my prayers. SCENE II. [Exeunt, severally. ANTONIO'S House. Enter SURGEON, and a GENTLeman. Gent. What symptoms do you find in him? Surg. Nothing that he should. First he will let 2 no liquor down but wine, and then he has a fancy that he must be dressed always to the tune of John Dory. Gent. How to the tune of John Dory? Surg. Why, he will have fiddlers, and make them play and sing it to him all the while. Gent. An odd fancy, indeed! Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Give me some wine. Surg. I told you so-'Tis death, sir. Ant. 'Tis a horse, sir. Dost thou think I shall recover with the help of barley water only? Gent. Fie, Antonio, you must be governed. Ant. Why, sir, he feeds me with nothing but rotten roots, and drowned chickens, stewed pericraniums and pia-maters; and when I go to bed (by Heaven 'tis true, sir) he rolls me up in lints, with labels at them, that I am just, the man i'th' almanack, my head and face is in Aries' place. Surg. Will it please you, to let your friends see you opened? Ant. Will it please you, sir, to give me a brimmer? I feel my body open enough for that. Give it me, or I'll die upon thy hand, and spoil thy custom. Surg. How, a brimmer? Ant. Why look you, sir, thus I am used still; I can get nothing that I want. In how long time canst thou cure me? Surg. In forty days. Ant. I'll have a dog, shall lick me whole in twenty: In how long a time canst thou kill me? Surg. Presently. Ant. Do it; that's the shorter, and there's more delight in it. Gent. You must have patience. Ant. Man, I must have business; this foolish fellow hinders himself: I have a dozen rascals to hurt F |