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Page 1. Well, what remedy? Fenton, Heav'n
give thee joy! What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Eva. I will also dance and eat plums at your wedding
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chạc”. Mrs Page. Well, I will muse no further. Master
[Exeunt omnes. f In the first sketch of this play, which, as Mr Pope observes, is much inferior to the latter performance, the only sentiment of which I regret the omiffion occurs at this critical time. When Fenton brings in his wife, there is this dialogue.
Mrs Ford. Come, Mistress Page, I must be bold with you, 'Tis pity to part love that is so true. Mrs Page, aside.] Although that I have missed in my in.
-Here, Fenton, take her.
Page. I cannot tell, and yet my beart is cafed;
Characters in the Induction..
A Lord, before whom the play is supposid to be play'd.
on the Lord.
BAPTISTA, father to Catharina and Bianca; very rich..
} pretenders to Bianca.
Taylor, haberdashers; with servants attending on
Baptista and Petruchio.
SCENE, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in
Petruchio's house in the country.
Τ Η Ε
TAMING of the SHREW.
S CE N E I.
Sly. ('LL pheese you, in faith.
Hoft. 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, paucus pallabris * ; let the world slide : Seffa.
Hoft. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
Sly. No, not a denier: go by, Jeronimo t -go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
Host. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the Thirdborough.
Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll anfwer him by law; I'll not budge an inch, boy; let: him come, and kindly.
[Falls asleep. * Meaning pocas palabras, Spanish, few words. Theob.
+ Go by, Jeronimo, was a kind of by-word in the author's days, as appears by its being used in the fame manner by Ben Johnson, Beaumont and Fletcher, and other writers near that time. [t arose first from a parSage in an old play, called Hieronymo, or, The Spanish Tragedy.
S CE N E II. Wind horns, Enter a Lord from hunting, with a Train. Dord. Huntsman, I charge thee tender well my
Hun. Why, Belman is as good as hre, my Lord;
Lord. Thou art a fool; if Eccho were as fleet,
doth he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Wère he not
warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold, to sleep so foundly.
Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lyes ! -Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thy
image ! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, Wrapt in sweet cloaths, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him, when he wakes, Would not the beggar then forget himself?
i Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chuse. 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him, when he
wak’d. Lord. Even as a flatt'ring, dream, or, worthless
fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest:. Carry him gently to iny fairelt chamber, And hang it round with all my wanton pi&ures;