Jul. You are too violent; his truth will prove His constancy, and so excuse my fault.

Nib. Shameless woman! this belief will damn thee. How will thy lady marquess justly reprove me, for preferring to her service a monster of so lewd and impudent a life! look to't; if thy smooth devil leave thee to thine infamy, I will never pity thy mortal pangs, never lodge thee under my roof, never own thee for my child; mercy be my witness!

Enter PETRUCHIO, leading COLona.

Pet. Hide not thy folly by unwise excuse,
Thou art undone, Colona; no entreaties,
No warning, no persuasion, could put off
The habit of thy dotage on that man

Of much deceit, Ferentes. Would thine eyes
Had seen me in my grave, ere I had known
The stain of this thine honour!

Col. Good, my lord,

Reclaim your incredulity; my fault
Proceeds from lawful composition

Of wedlock, he hath seal'd his oath to mine,
To be my husband.

nay,

Nib. Husband? hey-day! is't even so? then, we have partners in affliction; if my jolly gallant's long clapper have struck on both sides, all is well. Petruchio, thou art not wise enough to be a parator; come hither, man, come hither; speak softly, is thy daughter with child?

2 Thou art not wise enough to be a parator.] An inferior officer,

F F

Pet. With child, Nibrassa?

Nib. Foh! do not trick me off; I overheard your gabbling. Hark in thine ear, so is mine too. Pet. Alas, my lord, by whom?

Nib. Innocent! by whom? what an idle question is that? One cock hath trod both our hens. Ferentes, Ferentes, who else! how dost take it? methinks thou art wondrous patient; why, I am mad, stark mad.

Pet. How like you this, Colona? 'tis too true: Did not this man protest to be your husband? Col. Ah me! to me he did.

Nib. What else, what else, Petruchio! and, madam, my quondam daughter, I hope he has past some huge words of matrimony to you too. Jul. Alas! to me he did.

Nib. And how many more, the great Incubus of hell knows best. Petruchio, give me your hand; mine own daughter in this arm, and yours, Colona, in this there, there, sit ye down together. Never rise, as you hope to inherit our blessings, till you have plotted some brave revenge; think upon it to it to purpose, and you shall want no seconds to further it; be secret one to another. Come, Petruchio, let 'em alone; the wenches will demur on't, and, for the process, we'll give 'em courage.

Pet. You counsel wisely, I approve your plot;

Blount says, that summoned delinquents to a spiritual court.These officers seem, from our dramatic poets, to have been a great terror to the waist-coaters of their days.

Think on your shames, and who it was that

wrought 'em.

Nib. Aye, aye, aye, leave them alone: to work, wenches, to work!

Col. We are quite ruin'd.

Jul. True, Colona,

[Exeunt NIB. and PET.

Betray'd to infamy, deceived, and mock'd,
By an unconstant villain: what shall's do?
I am with child.

Col. Hey-ho! and so am I;

But what shall's do now?

Jul. This with cunning words

First prove his love; he knows I am with child.
Col. And so he knows I am; I told him on't
Last meeting in the lobby, and, in troth,
The false deceiver laugh'd.

Jul. Now, by the stars,

He did the like to me, and said, 'twas well
I was so happily sped.

Col. Those very words

He used to me, it fretted me to th' heart;
I'll be revenged.

Jul. Peace! here's a noise, methinks.
Let's rise; we'll take a time to talk of this.

[They walk aside.

Enter FERENTES and MORONA.

Fer. Will you hold? death of my delights, have you lost all sense of shame? You were best roar about the court, that I have been your woman'sbarber, and trimm'd you, kind Morona.

Mor. Defiance to thy kindness! thou hast robb'd me of my good name; did'st promise to love none but me, me, only me: swor'st, like an unconscionable villain, to marry me the twelfth day of the month, two months since; did'st make my bed thine own, mine house thine own, mine, all and every thing, thine own: I will exclaim to the world on thee, and beg justice of the duke himself, villain! I will.

Fer. Yet again! nay, an if you be in that mood, shut up your fore-shop, I'll be your journeyman no longer. Why, wise madam Dry-fist, could your mouldy brain be so addle, to imagine I would marry a stale widow at six-and-forty? Marry gip! are there not varieties enough of thirteen? come, stop your clap-dish,3 or I'll purchase a carting for you. By this light, I have toiled more with this tough carrion hen, than with ten quails scarce grown into their first feathers.

Mor. O treason to all honesty or religion!Speak, thou perjured, damnable, ungracious defiler of women, who shall father my child which

thou hast begotten?

Fer. Why, thee, country-woman; thou'st a larger purse to pay for the nursing. Nay, if you'll needs have the world know how you, reputed a

3 Come, stop your clap-dish.] Thus in Green's Tu Quoque

Widow, hold your clapdish, fasten your tongue
Under your roof, and do not dare to call."

For the word itself, see Jonson, v. i. p. 44.

grave, matron-like, motherly-madam, kick'd up your heels like a jennet whose mark is new come into her mouth, e'en do, do! the worst can be said of me is, that I was ill-advised to dig for gold in a coal-pit. Are you answer'd?

Mor. Answer'd?

Jul. Let's fall amongst 'em.-[Comes forward with COL.]-Love-how is't, chick? ha? Col. My dear Ferentes, my betrothed lord. Fer. Excellent! oh, for three Barbary stonehorses to top three Flanders mares!-[Aside.]— Why, how now, wenches! what means this?

Mor. Out upon me! here's more of his trulls. Jul. Love, you must go with me.

Col. Good love, let's walk.

Fer. I must rid my hands of them, or they'll ride on my shoulders.-By your leave, ladies; here's none but is of common counsel one with another; in short, there are three of ye with child, you tell me, by me; all of you I cannot satisfy, nor, indeed, handsomely any of you. You all hope I should marry you; which, for that it is impossible to be done, I am content to have neither of you: for your looking big on the matter, keep your own counsels, I'll not bewray ye; but for marriage,— heaven bless you, and me from you! this is my

resolution.

Col. How, not me!
Jul. Not me!

Mor. Not me!