King. Who lent it you? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? 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 had'st this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. I'll never tell you. Dia. I'll put in bail, my liege. King. I think thee now some common cus tomer. Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this while? 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 sir ; [Exit Widow. The jeweller, that owes the 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 : Re-enter Widow, with HELENA. Hel. No, my good lord: "Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. Ber. Both, both; O, pardon! Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. 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:- [To Diana. SCENE, sometimes in Padua ; and sometimes in Petruchio's honse in the country. INDUCTION. SCENE I-Before an ale-house on a heath. Enter Hostess and SLY. Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith. Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues: Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucus pallabris; let the world slide: Sessa! Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy; Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough. [Exit. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly. [Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd, And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good 1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the merest loss, 1 Hun. I will, my lord. Lord. What's here; one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? 2 Hun. 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 lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. A most delicious banquet by his bed, 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worth- Then take him up, and manage well the jest:- Some one be ready with a costly suit, If it be husbanded with modesty. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:[Exit Servant. Belike some noble gentleman; that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here.— Re-enter a Servant. How now? who is it? Serv. An it please your honour, Players, that offer service to your lordship. Lord. Bid them come near : Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. We thank your honour. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? 2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our duty. Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remember, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son; 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. Lord. 'Tis very true;-thou didst itexcellent.Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some sport in hand, Wherein your cunning can assist me much. There is a lord will hear you play to-night: But I am doubtful of your modesties; Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour, (For yet his honour never heard a play,) You break into some merry passion, And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient. 1 Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antic in the world. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing, that my house affords.[Exeunt Servant and Players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, [To a Servant. And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, And call him-madam, do him obeisance. 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play And say,-What is't your honour will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May show her duty, and make known her love? And then-with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom,- SCENE II.-A bedchamber in the Lord's house. SLY is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with basin, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter Lord, dressed like a servant. Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not mehonour, nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour ! O, that a mighty man, of such descent, Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath; by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught: Here's— 1 Serv. O, this it is, that makes your lady mourn. 2 Serv. O, this it is, that makes your servants droop. Lord. Hence comes it, that your kindred shun your house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: soar Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt? Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight Adonis, painted by a running brook: Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid; 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood; Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, 1 Serv. And, till the tears, that she hath shed for thee, Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now? I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak; I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed; And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? [Servants present an ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! O, that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream ; Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept. Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? 1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words:For though you lay here in this goodly chainber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door; And rail upon the hostess of the house; And say, you would present her at the leet, Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts: Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up,- Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd, and slept Above some fifteen year and more. Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed. Sly. 'Tis much;-Servants, leave me and her alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Page. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you, To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or, if not so, until the sun be set: For your physicians have expressly charg'd, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed: I hope, this reason stands for my excuse. Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again; I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Servant. Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy, Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call mehusband? My men should call me-lord; I am your good man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well :-What must I call her? Lord. Madam. Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam ? blood, Sly. Marry, I will; let them play it: Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Sly. Well, we'll see't: Come, madam wife, Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ladies. ne'er be younger. [They sit down. SCENE I.-Padua. A public place. Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO. ACT I. Most trusty servant, well approv'd in all; Here let us breathe, and happily institute A course of learning, and ingenious studies. Pisa, renowned for grave citizens, Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had Gave me my being, and my father first, To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,- And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd A merchant of great traffic through the world, |