that he must be dreft always to the tune of 'John Dory:

Gent. How to the tune of John Dory?

Sur. Why, he will have fidlers, and make them play and fing it to him all the while.

Gent. An odd fancy indeed.

Ant. Give me fome wine.

Sur. I told you fo------'Tis death, Sir:
Ant. 'Tis a horfe, Sir. Doft think I shall reco-
ver with the help of barley-water only ?
Gent. Fy, Antonio, you must be govern'd.

Ant. Why, Sir, he feeds me with nothing but rotten roots, and drown'd chickens, ftew'd Pericraniums, and Pia-maters; and when I go to bed, (by heaven 'tis true, Sir) he rolls me up in lints with labels at 'em, that I am just the man i' th' almanack; my head and face is Aries place.

Sur. Will't please you to let your friends fee you open'd?

Ant. Will't 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 fpoil thy custom.

Sur. How, a brimmer ?

Ant. Why, look ye, Sir, thus I am us'd ftill;
I can

I can get nothing that I want. In how long time

canft thou cure me?

Sur. In forty days.

Ant. I'll have a dog fhall lick me whole in twenty.

In how long canft thou kill me?

Sur. Presently.

Ant. Do't, that's the fhorter, and there's more delight in't.

Gent. You must have patience.

Ant. Man, I must have bufinefs; this foolish fellow hinders himself; I have a dozen rafcals to hurt within thefe five days. Good man-mender, ftop me up with parfly like ftuff'd beef, and let me walk abroad.

Sur. Ye fhall walk shortly.

Ant. I will walk presently, Sir, and leave your falads there, your green falves and your oils ; I'll to my old diet again, ftrong food, and rich wine,

and try what that will do.

Sur. Well, go thy ways, thou art the maddeft old fellow I e'er yet met with

[Exeunt.

SCENE

Enter Conftantia and Landlady.

Con. I have told you all I can, and more than yet
Those gentlemen know of me; but are they
Such ftrange creatures, fay you?

Land. There's the younger,

Don John, the errant'ft Jack in all this city:
The other, time has blasted, yet he will ftoop,
If not o'erflown, and freely on the quarry;
H'as been a dragon in his days. But Tarmont,
Don Jenkin, is the devil himself, the dog-days,
The most incomprehenfive whoremaster,
Twenty a night is nothing: the truth is,
Whofe chastity he chops upon, he cares not.
He flies at all; baftards upon my confcience,
He has now in making multitudes: the last night
He brought home one; I pity her that bore it,
But we are all weak veffels. Some rich woman
(For wife I dare not call her) was the mother,
For it was hung with jewels; the bearing cloth
No lefs than crimfon velvet.

Con. How?

Land. 'Tis true, lady.

Con. Was it a boy too?

Land.

Land. A brave boy; delibération

And judgment fhew'd in's getting, as I'll fay for him, He's as well pac'd for that fport----

Con. May I fee it?

For there is a neighbour of mine, a gentlewoman,
Has had a late mifchance, which willingly

I would know further of; now if you please
To be fo courteous to me.

Land. Ye fhall fee it:

But what do you think of thefe men, now you know 'em?

Be wife,

You may repent too late elfe; I but tell you

For your own good, and as you will find it, lady. Con. I am advis'd.

Land. No more words then; do that, And inftantly, I told you of; be ready. Don John, I'll fit you for your frumps. Con. But fhall I fee this child?

Land. Within this half hour:

Let's in, and there think better.

[Exeunt

SCENE

IV.

Enter Petruchio, Don John and Frederick.

John. Sir, he is worth your knowledge, and a

gentleman

(If

(If I that fo much love him may commend him) That's full of honour; and one, if foul play Should fall upon us, for which fear I brought him, Will not fly back for fillips.

Petr. Ye much honour me,

And once more 1 pronounce ye both mine.

Fred. Stay, what troop

Is that below i' th' valley there?

John. Hawking, I take it.

Petr. They are fo; 'tis the duke, 'tis even hé,

gentlemen:

Sirrah, draw back the horses till we call ye,

I know him by his company.

Fred. I think too

He bends up this way.

Petr. So he does.

John. Stand you ftill

Within that covert, till I call: he comes

Forward; here will I wait him to your places. Petr. I need no more inftruct you.

John. Fear me not. [Exeunt Petr. and Fred. Enter Duke and his faction.

Duke. Feed the hawks up,

We'll fly no more to day: O my bleft fortune!

Have I fo fairly met the man?

VOL. I.

John.