_Fred._ _John_, I smell some juggling, _John_. _John._ Yes, _Frederick_, I fear it will be found so. _Fran._ So strangely, Without the counsel of your friends; so desperately To put all dangers on ye? _Fred._ 'Tis she. _Fran._ So deceitfully, After a strangers lure! _John._ Did ye mark that, _Frederick_? _Fran._ To make ye appear more monster; and the Law More cruel to reward ye? to leave all, All that should be your safegard, to seek evils? Was this your wisdom? this your promise? well, He that incited ye-- _Fred._ Mark that too. _John._ Yes Sir. _Fran._ 'Had better have plough'd farther off; now Lady, What will your last friend, he that should preserve ye, And hold your credit up, the brave _Antonio_, Think of this slip? he'll to _Petrucchio_, And call for open justice. _John._ 'Tis she, _Frederick_. _Fred._ But what that he is, _John_? _Fra._ I do not doubt yet To bolt ye out, for I know certainly Ye are about the Town still: ha, no more words. [_Exit._ _Fred._ Well. _John._ Very well. _Fred._ Discreetly. _John._ Finely carried. _Fred._ You have no more of these tricks? _John._ Ten to one, Sir, I shall meet with 'em if ye have. _Fred._ Is this honest? _John._ Was it in you a friends part to deal double? I am no Ass _Don Frederick_. _Fred._ And _Don John_, It shall appear I am no fool; Disgrace me to make your self a lecher? 'Tis boyish, 'tis base. _John._ 'Tis false, and most unmanly to upbraid me, Nor will I be your bolster, Sir. _Fre._ Thou wanton boy, thou hadst better have been Eunuch, Thou common womans courtesie, than thus Lascivious, basely to have bent mine honour. A friend? I'[l]e make a horse my friend first. _John._ Holla, holla, Ye kick too fast, Sir: what strange brains have you got, That dare crow out thus bravely? I better been an Eunuch? I privy to this dog trick? clear your self, For I know where the wind sits, and most nobly, Or as I have a life-- _Fred._ No more: they're horses. [_A noise within like horses._ Nor shew no discontent: to morrow comes; Let's quietly away: if she be at home, Our jealousies are put off. _John._ The fellow, _Enter Duke_, Petrucchio. We have lost him in our spleens, like fools. _Duke._ Come, Gentlemen, Now set on roundly: suppose ye have all Mistresses, And mend your pace according. _Petr._ Then have at ye. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ _Enter Duke_, Petrucchio, Frederick, _and_ John. _Petr._ Now to _Bologna_, my most honoured Brother, I dare pronounce ye a hearty, and safe welcome, Our loves shall now way-lay ye; welcome, Gentlemen.