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SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street. Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it; But since you have made the days and nights as one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,

Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;-
Enter a gentle Astringer.9

This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you, sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Gent I have been sometimes there.

Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful.

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Hel. That it will please you
To give this poor petition to the king;
And aid me with that store of power you have,
To come into his presence.

Gent. The king's not here.

Not here, sir?
Not, indeed:
He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste
Than is his use.


Lord, how we lose our pains! Hel. All's well that ends well, yet;

Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.

I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.

I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand;
Which, I presume, shall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it:
I will come after you, with what good speed
Our means will make us means.

This I'll do for you.
Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse again;-
Go, go, provide.
SCENE II.-Rousillon. The inner Court of the
Countess's Palace.

Enter Clown and PAROLLES.

Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have, ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish,
Scored like a piece of meat for the gridiron.

A gentleman falconer

patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows: but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honor! so, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonadoeds face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

Clo. Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. [Exeunt.


if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Prythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, sir; 1 spake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor.— Pr'ythee, get thee further.

Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away: A paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.

Enter LAFEU.

Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.

[Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends: I am for other business.

Par. I beseech your honor, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

Laf. You beg more than one word, then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand:-How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon

me at once both the office of God and the devil! one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you.

SCENE III.-A Room in the Countess's Palace. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, LAFEU, Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, &c. King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem' Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home.2 Count.

1 Reckoning or estimate.

'Tis past, my liege:

2 Completely, in its full extent

And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears it, and burns on.


My honor'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.
This I must say,-
But first I beg my pardon, The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly call'd mistress.
Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him

We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
All repetition;-Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

I shall, my liege.
[Exit Gentleman.
King. What says he to your daughter? have you
spoke ?

Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me,

That set him high in fame.



He looks well on't.

Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day.

Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven,

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!

Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name Must be digested, give a favor from you, To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, That she may quickly come.-By my old beard, And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this, The last that e'er I took her leave at court, I saw upon her finger. Ber. King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood Necessitied to help, that by this token

Hers it was not.

I would relieve her: Had you that craft, to reave her Of what should stead her most?


My gracious sovereign,
Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.

Son, on my life,
I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.
I am sure, I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it:
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain❜d the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
My high repented blames, I could not answer in that course of honor
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King. I am not a day of season,* For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail In me at once: But to the brightest beams Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth, The time is fair again.


Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

All is whole;
Not one word more of the consumed time.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can effect them: You remember
The daughter of this lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favor;
Scorn'd a fair color, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

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Plutus himself,

That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's mystery more science,
Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know,
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety,
That she would never put it from her finger,
Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,
(Where you have never come,) or sent it us
Upon her great disaster.


She never saw it. King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honor;

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me
Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove
That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove so;—
And yet I know not:-thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.-Take him away.-
[Guards seize BERTRAM

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Gracious sovereign,

Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not;
Here's a petition from a Florentine,

Who hath for four or five removes,' come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,
Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know,
Is here attending: her business looks in her
With an important visage; and she told me,
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your highness with herself.

King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to
marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say
it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a
widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my
honor's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking
no leave, and I follow him to his country for jus-
tice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies;
otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is
Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and
toll him: for this, I'll none of him.

King. The heavens have thought well on thee,

To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:-
Go, speedily, and bring again the count.

[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants.
I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch'd.

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Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?


She's impudent, my lord.
And was a common gamester to the camp.
Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
He might have bought me at a common price:
Do not believe him: O, behold this ring,
Whose high respect, and rich validity,
Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
If I be one.

Count. He blushes, and 'tis it:
Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife;
That ring's a thousand proofs.


Methought, you said,
You saw one here in court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
What of him?

Now, justice on the doers! He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
Enter BERTRAM, guarded.
Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth:
Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to

And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that?
Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA.
Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capulet;
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy,
King. Come hither, count: Do you know these


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She hath that ring of yours

Ber. I think she has: certain it is, I liked her,
And boarded her i'the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint.
As all impediments in fancy's' course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her insuit coming with her modern grace,'
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market price have bought.
I must be patient;
You that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,)
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.


I have it not.
King. What ring was yours, I pray you?
Sir, much like

The same upon you. finger.

Gamester, when applied to a female, then meant a em mon woman. • Noted. • Debauch'd. Love. Her solicitation concurring with her appearance of being common.

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Ay, my lord.

King. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,

Not fearing the displeasure of your master, (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) By him, and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honorable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
King. How, I pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves

a woman.

King. How is that?

Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not.

King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:What an equivocal companion is this? Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's



Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did bego tween them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know.

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence: therefore stand asideThis ring, you say, was yours? Dia. Ay, my good lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. King. Who lent it you? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him? Dia.

I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure.

King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. Dia. It might be yours or hers for aught I know. King. Take her away, I do not like her now; To prison with her, and away with him.— Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia.

I'll never tell you.

King. Take her away.
I'll put in bail, my liege.
King. I think thee now some common customer
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty;
He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't.
I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
[Pointing to LAFEU.
King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her
Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
[Exit Widow


The jeweller, that owes he ring, is sent for
And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him
He knows himself, my bed he hath defil'd;
And at that time he got his wife with child:
Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick:
And now behold the meaning.

Re-enter Widow, with HELENA.

King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real, that I see?


"Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, No, my good lord; The name, and not the thing.



Both, both; O pardon! found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, When from my finger you can get this ring, And are by me with child, &c. This is done: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?

Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. [clearly, Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you !— O, my dear mother, do I see you living?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon: Good Tom Drum, [To PAROLLES.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow :If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,[To DIANA. For I can guess, that, by thy honest aid, Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.— Of that, and all the progress, more and less, Resolvedly more leisure shall express: All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [Flourish

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CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker.) Persons in
Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen and
other Servants attending on the Lord.

the Induction.

BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of Padua.
VINCENTIO, an old Gentleman of Pisa.
LUCENTIO, Son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
PETRUCHIO, a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor to


HORTENSIO, Suitors to Bianca.



Servants to Lucentio.

GRUMIO, Servants to Petruchio.

PEDANT, an old Fellow, set up to personate Vin

KATHARINA, the Shrew, Daughters to Baptista.
BIANCA, her Sister,

Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on
Baptista and Petruchio.

SCENE, sometimes in Paʊa; and sometimes in PETRUCHIO's House in the Country.


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1 Beat or knock. This line and scrap of Spanish is used in burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy. An officer whose authority equals that of a constable. Bitch. Strained.

And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

1 Hunt. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

1 Hunt. I will, my lord.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

2 Hunt. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd with ale,

This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he


Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.-
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

1 Hunt. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
2 Hunt. It would seem strange unto him when
he wak'd.

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