_Tam._ I cannot cloake it; but, as when a fume, Hot, drie, and grosse, within the wombe of earth 35 Or in her superficies begot, When extreame cold hath stroke it to her heart, The more it is comprest, the more it rageth, Exceeds his prisons strength that should containe it, And then it tosseth temples in the aire, 40 All barres made engines to his insolent fury: So, of a sudden, my licentious fancy Riots within me: not my name and house, Nor my religion to this houre observ'd, Can stand above it; I must utter that 45 That will in parting breake more strings in me, Than death when life parts; and that holy man That, from my cradle, counseld for my soule, I now must make an agent for my bloud. _Enter Monsieur._ _Monsieur._ Yet is my mistresse gratious? _Tam._ Yet unanswered? 50 _Mons._ Pray thee regard thine owne good, if not mine, And cheere my love for that: you doe not know What you may be by me, nor what without me; I may have power t'advance and pull downe any. _Tam._ That's not my study. One way I am sure 55 You shall not pull downe me; my husbands height Is crowne to all my hopes, and his retiring To any meane state, shall be my aspiring. Mine honour's in mine owne hands, spite of kings. _Mons._ Honour, what's that? your second maydenhead: 60 And what is that? a word: the word is gone, The thing remaines; the rose is pluckt, the stalk Abides: an easie losse where no lack's found. Beleeve it, there's as small lack in the losse As there is paine ith' losing. Archers ever 65 Have two strings to a bow, and shall great Cupid (Archer of archers both in men and women) Be worse provided than a common archer? A husband and a friend all wise wives have. _Tam._ Wise wives they are that on such strings depend, 70 With a firme husband joyning a lose friend. _Mons._ Still you stand on your husband; so doe all The common sex of you, when y'are encounter'd With one ye cannot fancie: all men know You live in Court here by your owne election, 75 Frequenting all our common sports and triumphs, All the most youthfull company of men. And wherefore doe you this? To please your husband? Tis grosse and fulsome: if your husbands pleasure Be all your object, and you ayme at honour 80 In living close to him, get you from Court, You may have him at home; these common put-ofs For common women serve: "my honour! husband!" Dames maritorious ne're were meritorious: Speak plaine, and say "I doe not like you, sir, 85 Y'are an ill-favour'd fellow in my eye," And I am answer'd.