"Honour and husband!"  _Tam._                By this light, my lord,
  Y'are a vile fellow; and Ile tell the King                         
  Your occupation of dishonouring ladies,
  And of his Court. A lady cannot live
  As she was borne, and with that sort of pleasure
  That fits her state, but she must be defam'd
  With an infamous lords detraction:                                
  Who would endure the Court if these attempts,
  Of open and profest lust must be borne?--
  Whose there? come on, dame, you are at your book
  When men are at your mistresse; have I taught you
  Any such waiting womans quality?                                   _Mons._ Farewell, good "husband"!              
  _Exit Mons[ieur]._  _Tam._                            Farewell, wicked lord!          _Enter Mont[surry]._  _Mont._ Was not the Monsieur here?  _Tam._                             Yes, to good purpose;
  And your cause is as good to seek him too,
  And haunt his company.  _Mont._                Why, what's the matter?  _Tam._ Matter of death, were I some husbands wife:                 
  I cannot live at quiet in my chamber
  For oportunities almost to rapes
  Offerd me by him.  _Mont._           Pray thee beare with him:
  Thou know'st he is a bachelor, and a courtier,
  I, and a Prince: and their prerogatives                            
  Are to their lawes, as to their pardons are
  Their reservations, after Parliaments--
  One quits another; forme gives all their essence.
  That Prince doth high in vertues reckoning stand
  That will entreat a vice, and not command:                         
  So farre beare with him; should another man
  Trust to his priviledge, he should trust to death:
  Take comfort then (my comfort), nay, triumph,
  And crown thy selfe; thou part'st with victory:
  My presence is so onely deare to thee                              
  That other mens appeare worse than they be:
  For this night yet, beare with my forced absence:
  Thou know'st my businesse; and with how much weight
  My vow hath charged it.  _Tam._                  True, my lord, and never
  My fruitlesse love shall let your serious honour;                  
  Yet, sweet lord, do no stay; you know my soule
  Is so long time with out me, and I dead,
  As you are absent.  _Mont._            By this kisse, receive

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