_Byan._ You shall not find me wanting, get you gone. Here's the old Man, he'l think you are plotting else Something against his new Son. [_Exit_ Tranio. _Moro._ Fare ye well Sir. [_Exit_ Moroso. Byan. _And ev'ry Buck had his Doe, And ev'ry Cuckold a Bell at his Toe: Oh what sport should we have then, then Boyes then, Oh what sport should we have then?_ _Petro._ This is the spirit, that inspires 'em all. _By._ Give you good ev'n. _Petro._ A word with you Sweet Lady. _By._ I am very hasty, Sir. _Petro._ So you were ever. _By._ Well, What's your will? _Petro._ Was not your skilful hand In this last stratagem? Were not your mischiefs Eeking the matter on? _By._ In's shutting up? Is that it? _Petro._ Yes. _By._ I'll tell you. _Petro._ Doe. _By._ And truly. Good old Man, I do grieve exceeding much, I fear too much. _Petro._ I am sorry for your heaviness. Belike you can repent then? _By._ There you are wide too. Not that the thing was done (conceive me rightly) Do's any way molest me. _Petro._ What then Lady? _By._ But that I was not in't, there's my sorrow, there Now you understand me, for I'll tell you, It was so sound a piece, and so well carried, And if you mark the way, so hansomely, Of such a heighth, and excellence, and art I have not known a braver; for conceive me, When the gross fool her Husband would be sick-- _Petro._ Pray stay. _By._ Nay, good, your patience: and no sence for't, Then stept your daughter in. _Petro._ By your appointment. _By._ I would it had, on that condition I had but one half smock, I like it so well; And like an excellent cunning Woman, cur'd me One madness with another, which was rare, And to our weak beliefs, a wonder. _Petro._ Hang ye, For surely, if your husband look not to ye, I know what will. _By._ I humbly thank your worship. And so I take my leave. _Petro._ You have a hand I hear too. _By._ I have two Sir. _Petro._ In my young daughters business. _By._ You will find there A fitter hand than mine, to reach her frets, And play down diddle to her. _Petro._ I shall watch ye. _By._ Do. _Petro._ And I shall have Justice. _By._ Where? _Petro._ That's all one; I shall be with you at a turne hence forward. _By._ Get you a Posset too; and so good ev'n Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Petruchio, Jaques, _and_ Pedro. _Jaq._ And as I told your worship, all the hangings, Brass, Pewter, Plate, ev'n to the very looking-glasses. _Ped._ And that that hung for our defence, the Armor, And the March Beere was going too: Oh _Jaques_ What a sad sight was that!