_Mar._ That fourteen yards of Satten give my Woman, I do not like the colour, 'tis too civil: Ther's too much Silk i'th lace too; tell the _Dutchman_ That brought the Mares, he must with all speed send me An other suit of Horses, and by all means Ten cast of Hawkes for th' River, I much care not What price they bear, so they be sound, and flying, For the next Winter, I am for the Country; And mean to take my pleasure; where's the Horseman? _Petru._ She means to ride a great Horse. _Soph._ With a side sadle? _Petru._ Yes, and shee'l run a tilt within this twelvemonth. _Mar._ To morrow I'll begin to learn, but pray sir Have a great care he be an easie doer, 'Twill spoil a Scholar else. _Soph._ An easie doer, Did you hear that? _Petru._ Yes, I shall meet her morals Ere it be long I fear not. _Mar._ O good morrow. _Soph._ Good morrow Lady, how is't now. _Mar._ Faith sickly, This house stands in an ill ayr. _Petru._ Yet more charges? _Mar._ Subject to rots, and rheums; out on't, 'tis nothing But a tild fog. _Petru._ What think you of the Lodge then? _Mar._ I like the seat, but 'tis too little, _Sophocles_ Let me have thy opinion, thou hast judgment. _Petru._ 'Tis very well. _Mar._ What if I pluck it down, And build a square upon it, with two courts Still rising from the entrance? _Petru._ And i'th midst A Colledge for young Scolds. _Mar._ And to the Southward Take in a Garden of some twenty Acres, And cast it of the _Italian_ fashion, hanging. _Petru._ And you could cast your self so too; pray Lady Will not this cost much Money? _Mar._ Some five thousand, Say six: I'll have it Battel'd too. _Petru._ And gilt; _Maria_, This is a fearful course you take, pray think on't, You are a Woman now, a Wife, and his That must in honesty, and justice look for Some due obedience from you. _Mar._ That bare word Shall cost you many a pound more, build upon't; Tell me of due obedience? What's a Husband? What are we married for, to carry Sumpters? Are we not one peece with you, and as worthy Our own intentions, as you yours? _Petru._ Pray hear me. _Mar._ Take two small drops of water, equal weigh'd, Tell me which is the heaviest, and which ought First to descend in duty? _Petru._ You mistake me; I urge not service from you, nor obedience In way of duty, but of love, and Credit; All I expect is but a noble care Of what I have brought you, and of what I am, And what our name may be. _Mar._ That's in my making. _Petru._ 'Tis true it is so. _Mar._ Yes, it is _Petruchio_, For there was never Man without our molding, Without our stamp upon him, and our justice, Left any thing three ages after him Good, and his own. _Soph._ Good Lady understand him.