2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest :- And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: Some one be ready with a costly suit, And, when he says he is-, say, that he dreams, If it be husbanded with modesty.4 Wherein your coming 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. i 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: kisses, And with declining head into his bosom,- To see her noble lord restor❜d to health, 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our And if the boy have not a woman's gift, part, As he shall think, by our true diligence, [Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds. 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? Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son ;- 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. To rain a shower of commanded tears, [Exit Servant. 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of thesc conserves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear today? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honour, Lord. "Tis very true ;-thou didst it excellent.-nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; and Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some sport in hand, 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 stock-And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.ings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; sometimes, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. my toes look through the overleather. 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour! O, that a mighty man, of such descent, [Servants present an ewer, bason, and napkin. nap. Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedler, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present But did I never speak of all that time? profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat 1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words:ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say For though you lay here in this goodly chamber, 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. Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house, 3 Serv. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid; 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 As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. [Music. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. Adonis, painted by a running brook: Which seem t nove and wanton with her breath, Lord. Wil show thee Io, as she was a maid; 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: 1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things :- 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. Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. I 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 goodman. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well :-What must I call her? Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies. 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: alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly farry 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, For so your doctors hold it very meet; (3) Court-leet. Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood, 1 And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Sly. Well, we'll see't: Come, madam wife, sit Enter Baptista, Katharina, Bianca, Gremio, and Bap. Gentlemen, impórtune me no further, Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no Unless you were of gentler, milder mould. But, if it were, doubt not her care should be Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Glad that you thus continue your resolve, Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. (1) For comedy. (2) Ingenuous. (4) Pardon me. (6) Animate. Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward. Tra. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill. Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good Put finger in the eye,-an she knew why. Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.- Gre. Why, will you mew10 her up, To mine own children in good bringing-up; [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts's are so good, here is none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell:-Yet, for the love (7) A bait or decoy. (8) Think. (9) Pet. I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his light on a fit man, to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father. I trance. pray, awake, sir; If you love the maid, Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands: Hor. So will I, signior Gremio: But a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd parle, know now, upon advice,' it toucheth Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd, us both,-that we may yet again have access to our That, till the father rid his hands of her, fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love, Master, your love must live a maid at home; -to labour and effect one thing 'specially. And therefore has he closely mew'd her up, Gre. What's that, I pray? Because she shall not be annoy'd with suitors. Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister. Gre. I say, a devil: Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell? Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience, and mine, to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition,-to be whipped at the high-cross every morning. Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! Tra. Master, for my hand, You will be schoolmaster, And undertake the teaching of the maid: That's your device. Luc. It is May it be done? Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your par', And be in Padua here Vincentio's son? Hor. 'Faith, as you say, there's small choice in Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law Visit his countrymen, and banquet them? makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly Luc. Basta; content thee; for I have it full. maintained,-till by helping Baptista's eldest We have not yet been seen in any house; daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for Nor can we be distinguished by our faces, a husband, and then have to't afresh.-Sweet Bi- For man, or master: then it follows thus ;anca!-Happy man be his dole!2 He that runs fast-Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead, est, gets the ring. How say you, signior Gremio? Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should: Gre. I am agreed: and 'would I had given him I will some other be; some Florentine, the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa. would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. [Exeunt Gremio and Hortensio. Tra. [Advancing.] I pray, sir, tell me,-Is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold? I never thought it possible, or likely; Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now; Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; Began to scold; and raise up such a storm, Luc. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move, (1) Consideration. (2) Gain or lot. 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so :-Tranio, at once Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits. (For so your father charg'd me at our parting; Because so well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid, Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye. Enter Biondello. Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes? Luc. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest, Bion. Bion. The better for him; 'Would I were so too soundly? Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next Rap me here, knock me well, and knock me wish after,That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest And come you now with-knocking at the gate? daughter. But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's,— You use your manners discreetly in all kind companies: When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio ; Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. One thing more rests, that thyself execute ;--- Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; Comes there any more of it? Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady; 'Would't were done! SCENE II.-The_same. Before Hortensio's house. Enter Petruchio and Grumio. Gru. Knock, sir! whom should I knock? is there any man has rebused your worship? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. To seek their fortunes further than at home, Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife? Pet. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we, Gru. Knock you here, sir? why, sir, what am I, Affection's edge in me; were she as rough sir, that I should knock you here, sir? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate, And then I know after who comes by the worst. [He wrings Grumio by the ears. L "ow now? what's the matter?-My old friend.mio! and my good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona ? Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Mollo honorato signior mio Petruchio. Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel. As are the swelling Adriatic seas: Gru. Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is: Why, give him gold enough, and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though she have as many diseases as two and fifty horses: why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal. Hor. Petruchio, since we have stepp'd thus far in, And shrewd, and froward; so beyond all measure, Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he 'leges in Latin Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough; -if this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his For I will board her, though she chide as loud service,-Look you, sir,-he bid me knock him, and As thunder, when the clouds in autumn crack. rap him soundly, sir: Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, (for aught see,) two and thirty,-a pip out? Whom, 'would to God, I had well knock'd at first, Then had not Grumio come by the worst. I Pet. A senseless villain!-Good Hortensio, me here, Hor. Her father is Baptista Minola, Her name is Katharina Minola, I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her; Gru. I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O''my word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding would do little (4) A small image on the tag of lace. |