Not Peer Reviewed
- Edition: As You Like It
Everyman In His Humor (Modern)
- Introduction
- Texts of this edition
- Contextual materials
- Facsimiles
[Knocking] What, Tib! Tib, I say!
[Within] How now, what cuckold is that knocks so hard?
Nay, you have stunned me, i'faith! You have given me a knock on the forehead will stick by me. Cuckold? 'Swounds, cuckold?
Away, you fool! Did I know it was you that knocked? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list.
May I? 'Swounds, Tib, you are a whore.
'Sheart, you lie in your throat.
How, the lie? And in my throat too? Do you long to be stabbed, ha?
Why, you are no soldier.
Mass, that's true. When was Bobadilla here? That rogue, that slave, that fencing Burgullian! I'll tickle him, i'faith.
Why, what's the matter?
Oh, he hath basted me rarely, sumptuously! But I have it 1711here will sauce him. Oh, the doctor, the honestest old Trojan in all Italy! 1712I do honor the very flea of his dog. A plague on him, he 1713put me once in a villainous, filthy fear. Marry, it vanished away like the 1714smoke of tobacco, but I was smoked soundly first, I thank the devil and 1715his good angel, my guest. Well, wife, or Tib, which you will, get you 1716in and lock the door, I charge you, let no body in to you 1717-- not Bobadilla himself, nor the devil in his likeness. You are a woman; 1718you have flesh and blood enough in you; therefore, be not tempted; keep the door shut upon all comers.
I warrant you, there shall no body enter here without my consent.
Nor with your consent, sweet Tib; and so I leave you.
It's more than you know, whether you leave me so.
How?
Why, sweet.
Tut, sweet or sour, thou art a flower.
Exeunt.