_Ser._ Now bless me, What a mad man is this! I must do something To please his humour: such a man I'le ask for, And tell him where he is: but to come near him, Or have any thing to do with his don Devils, I thank my fear, I dare not, nor I will not. [_Exit._ SCENE III. _Enter Duke_, Petrucchio, Frederick, John, Peter, _and Servant with Bottle_. _Fred._ Whither wilt thou lead us? [_Pet._] 'Tis hard by, Sir. And ten to one this wine goes thither. _Duke._ Forward. _Petr._ Are they grown so merry? _Duke._ 'Tis [most] likely, She has heard of this good fortune, and determines To wash her sorrows off. [_Pet._] 'Tis so; that house, Sir, Is it: out of that window certainly I saw my old Mistresses face. _Petr._ They are merry indeed, [_Musick._ Hark I hear Musick too. _Duke._ Excellent Musick. _John._ Would I were ev'n among 'em, and alone now; A pallat for the purpose in a corner, And good rich Wine within me; what gay sport Could I make in an hour now! SONG. _Welcome sweet liberty, and care farewel,_ _I am mine own,_ _She is twice damn'd, that lives in Hell,_ _When Heaven is shown._ _Budding beauty, blooming years_ _Were made for pleasure, farewel fears,_ _For now I am my self, mine own command,_ _My fortune alwayes in my hand._ _Fred._ Hark a voice too; Let's not stir yet by any means. _John._ Was this her own voice? _Duke._ Yes, sure. _Fred._ 'Tis a rare one. _Enter Bawd (above.)_ _Du._ The Song confirms her here too: for if ye mark it, It spake of liberty, and free enjoying The happy end of pleasure. [_Pet._] Look ye there, Sir, Do ye know that head? _Fred._ 'Tis my good Landlady, I find fear has done all this. _John._ She I swear, And now do I know by the hanging of her Hood, She is parcel drunk: shall we go in? _Duke._ Not yet, Sir. _Petr._ No, let 'em take their pleasure. _Duke._ When it is highest, [_Musick._ We'll step in, and amaze 'em: peace, more Musick. _John._ This Musick murders me: what bloud have I now! _Fred._ I should know that face. [_Enter_ Fran, _and Exit_. _John._ By this light 'tis he, _Frederick_, That bred our first suspicions, the same fellow. _Fred._ He that we overtook, and overheard too, Discoursing of _Constantia_. _John._ Still the same; Now he slips in. _Duke._ What's that? _Fred._ She must be here Sir: This is the very fellow, I told your Grace _Enter_ Francisco. We found upon the way; and what his talk was.