_Ja[q]._ Yes they are gone; and all the pans i'th Town Beating before 'em: What strange admonitions They gave my Master, and how fearfully They threaten'd, if he broke 'em? _Ped._ O' my Conscience H'as found his full match now. _Jaq._ That I believe too. _Ped._ How did she entertain him? _Jaq._ She lookt on him. _Ped._ But scurvely. _Jaq._ With no great affection That I saw: and I heard some say he kiss'd her, But 'twas upon a treaty, and some copies Say, but her Cheek. _Ped._ _Jaques_, What wouldst thou give For such a Wife now? _Jaq._ Full as many P[r]ayers As the most zealous Puritane conceives Out of the meditation of fat Veal, Or Birds of prey, cram'd Capons, against Players, And to as good a tune too, but against her: That heaven would bless me from her: mark it _Pedro_, If this house be not turn'd within this fortnight With the foundation upward, I'll be carted. My comfort is yet, that those _Amorites_, That came to back her cause, those Heathen Whores, Had their Hoods hallowed with Sack. _Ped._ How Div'lish drunk they were! _Ja[q]._ And how they tumbled, _Pedro_, Didst thou marke The Countrey _Cavaliero_? _Ped._ Out upon her, How she turn'd down the Bragget! _Jaq._ I that sunk her. _Ped._ That Drink was well put to her; What a Somer salt When the chair fel, she fetch'd, with her heels upward! _Jaq._ And what a piece of Landskip she discover'd! _Ped._ Didst mark her, when her hood fell in the Posset? _Jaq._ Yes, and there rid, like a _Dutch_-Hoy; the Tumbrel, When she had got her ballasse. _Ped._ That I saw too. _Jaq._ How fain she would have drawn on _Sophocles_ To come aboard, and how she simper'd it-- _Ped._ I warrant her, she has been a worthy striker. _Jaq._ I'th heat of Summer there had been some hope on't. _Ped._ Hang her. _Jaq._ She offer'd him a Harry-groat, and belcht out, Her stomach being blown with Ale, such Courtship, Upon my life has giv'n him twenty stools since: Believe my Calculation, these old Women, When they are tippled, and a little heated, Are like new wheels, they'l roare you all the Town ore Till they be greas'd. _Ped._ The City _Cinque-a-pace_ Dame Tost and Butter, had the Bob too? _Jaq._ Yes, But she was sullen drunk, and given to filching, I see her offer at a Spoon; my Master-- I do not like his look, I fear h'as fasted For all this preparation; lets steal by him. [_Exeunt._ _Scaena Tertia._ _Enter_ Petruchio, _and_ Sophocles. _Soph._ Not let you touch her all this night? _Petru._ Not touch her. _Soph._ Where was your courage? _Petru._ Where was her obedience? Never poor Man was sham'd so; never Rascal That keeps a stud of Whores was us'd so basely. _Soph._ Pray you tell me one thing truly; Do you love her? _Petru._ I would I did not, upon that condition I past thee half my Land.