Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty | Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?
Hel.

orator.

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

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 go beBoth, both; 0, pardon! tween them, as I said; but more than that, he loved Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, her.-for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, what: yet I was in that credit with them at that When from my finger you can get this ring, time, that I knew of their going to bed and of And are by me with child, &c-This is done: other motions, as promising her marriage, and Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? things that would derive me ill will to speak of, Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this therefore I will not speak what I know.

Ay, my good lord.

clearly,

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:

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine1 in thy evidence: therefore stand aside.This ring, you say, was yours? Dia. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?-Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, King. Who lent it you? I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, Dia. It was not lent me neither. they are scurvy ones. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not.

King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow:King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, How could you give it him? Dia.

[To Diana. I never gave it him. Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she For I can guess, that, by the honest aid, goes off and on at pleasure. 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.

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.

Advancing.

The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well-ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content; which we will pay,
With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;
Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.

[Exeunt,

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. This play has many delightful scenes, thouga [Pointing to Lafeu. not sufficiently probable; and some happy characKing. She does abuse our ears; to prison with ters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare.

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:
And now behold the meaning.

I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate: when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness.

The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time. JOHNSON.

(5) i. e. Hear us without interruption, and tak our parts, that is, support and defend us,

Scene, sometimes in Padua, and sometimes in Pe- Scene, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country truchio's House in the Country.

INDUCTION.

SCENE I-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter Hostess and Sly.

Sly.

I'LL pheese! you, in faith.

Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues: Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris ; let the world slide: Sessa!

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have

burst ?4

Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.'

House.

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
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
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 Hun. I will, my lord.

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.

[Lics down on the ground, and falls asleep.
(2) Few words.
(4) Broke.

(1) Beat or knock.
(3) Be quiet.
(5) This line and the scrap of Spanish is used in]
burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or
the Spanish Tragedy.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? Sec, 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!

(6) An officer whose authority equals a constable.
(7) Bitch.
(8) Strained.

And with declining head into his bosom,--
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd

To see her noble lord restor'd to health,

Who, for twice seven years, hath esteemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our And if the boy have not a woman's gift,

Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honour, Lord. "Tis very true;-thou didst it excellent.-nor fordship: 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,

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

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your

honour!

O, that a mighty man, of such descent,
Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

your hands?

[Servants present an ewer, bason, 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

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
nap.
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
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.
O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth;
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
And banish hence these abject lowly dreams :
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,

[Music.

And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch,
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say, thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will 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:
And Cytherea all in sedges hid;

Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid;
And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
As lively painted as the deed was done.

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,
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age.

1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for
thee,

Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none.

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 ;

(1) Distracted,

1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words:-
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;

Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up,-
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

I

Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
All. Amen.

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. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
Where is my wife?

Page. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her?
Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me-
husband?

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?
Lord. Madam.

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:
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,
For so your doctors hold it very meet;

(2) Faith, (3) Court-leet, Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,

And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy,
Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play,
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life.
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?
Page. It is a kind of history.

Sly. Well, we'll see't: Come, madam wife, sit
by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er
be younger.
They sit down.

Enter Baptista, Katharina, Bianca, Gremio, and
Hortensio. Lucentio and Tranio stand aside.

Bap. Gentlemen, impórtune me no further,
For how I firmly am resolv'd you know;
Before I have a husband for the elder:
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter,
Because I know you well, and love you well,
If either of you both love Katharina,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
Gre. To cart her rather: She's too rough for me:
There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?
Kath. I pray you, sir, [To Bap.] is it your wil
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no
mates for you,

Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

Kath. I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear; I wis, it is not half way to her heart:

But, if it were, doubt not her care should be To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool, Enter And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,-
I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy;
And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd
With his good will, and thy good company,
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,
Gave me my being, and my father first,
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
Vincentio his son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue 'specially to be achiev'd.
Tell me thy mind: for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come; as he that leaves
A shallow plash, to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;

4

Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral discipline,
Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray :
Or so devote to Aristotle's checks,"
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd
Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practice rhetoric in your common talk:
Music and poesy use to quicken you;
The mathematics, and the metaphysics,
Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you:
No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en;-
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness;
And take a lodging, fit to entertain
Such friends, as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay awhile: What company is this?
Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town.

(1) For comedy.
(3) Small piece of water.
(5) Harsh rules,

(2) Ingenuous,
(4) Pardon me,
(6) Animate,

Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us!
Gre. And me too, good Lord!

Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime
toward;

That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward.
Luc. But in the other's silence I do see
Maids' mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.

Tra. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your

fill.

Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What have I said,-Bianca, get you in:
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca;
For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl."
Kath. A pretty peat!' 'tis best

Put finger in the cye,-an she knew why.

Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.-
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
My books, and instruments, shall be my company,
On them to look, and practise by myself.
Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva
speak.
[Aside.
Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I, that our good will effects
Bianca's grief.

Gre.

Why, will you mew 10 her up,
Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd:-
Go in, Bianca.
[Exit Bianca.
And for I know, she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth.-If you, Hortensio,
Or signior Gremio, you,-know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning12 men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing-up;
And so farewell. Katharina, you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit.
Kath. Why, and I trust, I may go too; May I not?
What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike,
I knew not what to take, and what to leave? Ha!

[Exit.

Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts1 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