JULIA

Nay, nay, their wages shall be of the same colour that their service is of. What Tragedy? Is't possible: o they two will beget brave warri ours: for if she scold heel fight, and if he quarrel sheele take up the bucklers: she's fire and he's brimstone, must not there be hight doings then think you? Turtles: Turkey-cocks, for Gods louelets entreat the Duke my brother, tomake a law, that wheresoe ver Sir Owen and his Lady dwell, the next neighbour may always be Constable, least the peace be broken, for theyl'e do nothing but cryearme, arm, arm. So think not I. Therefore Julia shall not be Onophries wife, for I'll have none die for me. I Like not that colour. No nor yet for my hate Farnese. No not I, fie upon it sweet servant. Yes rather then love me, of all saints I love not to serve mistress Venus. That spiteful proverb was proclaimed against them that are married upon earth, for to be married is to live in a kind of hell. Your wife is your ape, and that heavy burden wedlock, your Jack and Apes clog, therefore isle not be tied too't: Master Farnese, sweet virginity is that invisible Godhead that turns into Angels, that makes us saints on earth and stars in heaven: here Virgins seem goodly, but there glorious: In heaven is no wooing yet all there are lovely: in heaven are no weddings yet all there are lovers. So we do to and earthly heaven we turn it. You may well call that a combat, for indeed mar riage is nothing else, but a battle of love, a friendly figh ting, a kind of favourable terrible war: but you err Onophrio in thinking I hate it I deal by marriage as some Indians do the Sun, adore it, and reverence it, but dare not stare on it, for fear I be stark blind: you three are bachelors, and being sick of this maiden head, count all things bitter, which the physic of a sing le life minnisters unto you: you imagine if you could make the arms of fair Ladies the spheres of your hearts, good hearts, then you were in heaven: o but Batchilers take heed, you are no sooner in that heaven, but you strait slip into hell. Nay he were best put that by: Lord, Lord, see what unthrifts this love makes us? if he once but get into ourmouthes, he labours to turn our tongues to clap pers, and to ring all in, at Cupid's Church when we were better to bite off our to ̄ gues, so we may thrust him out, Cupid is sworn enemy to time, & he that loses time I can tell you loses afriend. Look in his scarf Farnese for and other, he has a third hand, and 'tis pitifully wounded he tells me, pitiful lie, pitifully. Fie servant, is your accomplished Courtship no thing but lies: Servant I discharge you my service, I'll enter taine no braggarts. Cozen I am proud that you are sped so well. Why cozen what are her qualities that you so commend her? Signior Mario you say nothing, how Like you this interlude? Why this it is to be married, thus you see those that go to woo, go to woe, o for a Drum to summon all my lovers, my suitors, my servants together. Signior Emulo I see will not be seen without calling. That isle try: my tongue shall give fire to my words presently. Not I, would you have me pity you and pun nish my self? would you wish me to love? when love is so full of hate? how unlovely is love? how bitter? how full of blemishes, my Lord and brother insults our Griselda, that makes me glad, Gwenthyan curbs Sir Owen, that makes you glad, Sir Owen is mastered by his Mistress that makes you mad, poor Grissil is martyred by her Lord that makes you merry, for I always wish that a woma ̄ may never meet better bargains, when sheele thrust her sweet liberty into the hands of a man: fie upon you, you're nothing but woormewood, and oak, and glass: you have bitter tongues, hard hearts, and brittle faith. Sweet servant speak not in this language of love, Gwenthyans peevishness and Grissils patience, make me here to defy that Ape Cupid, if you love stand upon his laws, I charge you leave it, I charge you neither to sighs for love nor speak of love, nor frown for hate: if you sighs isle mock you, if you speak isle stop mine ears, if you frown isle bend my fist. Had I not need encountering with such ene mies? but say will you obey and follow me or disobey, and I'll fly you. Better lost then found if you be so wavering. O my Lord, Vex not poor Griselda more, alas her heart, You do her wrong. That were a shame either to run away from a woman or to strike her, your best Physic Sir Owen, is to wear a velvet hand, leaden ears, and no tongue, you must not fight howsoever she quarrels, you must be deaf whensoever she brawls, and dumb when your self should brabble: take this cawdle next your heart every morning, and if your wife be not patient, the next reme die that I know is, to buy your winding sheet. Therefore my good servants if, you wear my li very, cast of this lose upper coat of love: be ashamed to wait upon a boy, a wag, a blind boy, a wanton: My brother the Duke wants our companies, 'tis Idle nes and love, makes you captains to this solitariness, fol low me & love not, & isle teach you how to find liberty. But servant where is your other hand? Peace servants, here comes the Duke my brother. Stand between them Farnese. If he follow that vocation well, he'll prove weal thy in wit. Nay then in faith make me all soldier, mine eyes a drum, my beauty your colours, and my hand your ar mour: what becomes of the rest? Nay brother your pardon awhile: beside our selves there are a number here, that have beheld Grissils patience, you own trials, and Sir Owens sufferance, Gwenthians forwardness, these Gentlemen louertine and my self a hater of love: amongst this company I trust there are some maiden bachelors, and virgin maidens, those that live in that freedom & love it, those that know the war of marriage and hate it, set their hands to my bill, which is rather to die a maid and lead Apes in hell, then to live a wife and be continually in hell.