Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a

lord:

Thou haft a lady far more beautiful

Than any woman in this waining age.

I Man. And 'till the tears that he hath fhed for thee,

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

Sly. Am I a lord, and have I fuch a lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dream'd 'till now?
I do not fleep; I fee, I hear, I fpeak;
I finell fweet favours, and I feel soft things:
Upon my life I am a lord indeed;

And not a tinker, nor Chriftophero Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our fight,
And, once again, a pot o' th' smallest ale.

2 Man. Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?

Oh, how we joy to fee your wits reftor'd!
Oh, that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
Or, when you wak'd, fo wak'd as if you flept.

Sly. Thefe fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap: But did I never fpeak of all that time?

1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door, And rail'd upon the hostess of the house; And fay, you would prefent her at the leet*, Because the bought ftone-jugs, and no feal'd quarts.. Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor na fuch maid,

Nor no fuch 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 fuch names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever faw.

At the court-leet, or court of the manor.

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

Sly. By th' mafs, I think I am a lord indeed. What is thy name?

Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.

Sly. Sim? that's as much as to fay Simeon, or Simon; put forth thy hand, and fill the pot.

[The fervant gives him drink.

SCENE

√.

Enter Lady, with attendants.

I thank thee;

-thou fhalt not lose by it.

Lady. How fares my noble Lord?

Sly. Marry I fare well, for here is chear enough. Where's my wife?

Lady. Here, noble lord, what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me hufband?

My men fhould call me lord, I am your goodman. Lady. My hufband and my lord, my lord and hufband;

I am your wife in all obedience.

Sly. I know it well: what muft I call her?
Lord. Madam.

Sly. Alce Madam, or Joan Madam?

Lord. Madam, and nothing elfe; fo lords call ladies.

Sly. Come, fit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they fay that I have dream'd, and flept above fome fifteen years and more.

Lady. Ay, and the time feems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed. Sly. 'Tis much.

-Servants, leave me and her alone.- -Madam, undrefs you, and come now to bed. Sim, drink to her.

Lady. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two;

Or, if not fo, until the fun be fet:

For your phyficians have exprefly charg'd,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I fhould yet abfent me from your bed.

I hope this reafon ftands for my excufe.

Sly. Ay, it ftands fo, that I may hardly tarry fo long; but I would be loath to fall into my dream again: I will therefore tarry in defpight of the flest and the blood.

Meff. Your Honour's players, hearing your amendment,

Are come to play a pleasant Comedy;
For fo your doctors hold it very meet,

Seeing too much fadnefs 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; is it not a commodity? a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick?

Lady. No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, houshold stuff?

Lady. It is a kind of history.

Sly. Well, we'll fee't. Come, Madam wife, fit by my fide, and let the world flip, we shall ne'er be younger.

THE

TAMING of the SHREW.

A C T I.. SCENE I.

A Street in Padua.

Flourish. Enter Lucentio and Tranio.
Lucentio.

RANIO, fince for the great defire I had
To fee fair Padua, nursery of arts,

T

I am arriv'd from 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 haply institute
A course of learning and ingenious ftudies.
Pifa, renowned for grave citizens,

Gave me my being, and my father first,
A merchant of great traffic through the world a
Vincentio's come of the Bentivoli,

Vincentio his fon †, brought up in Florence,
It fhall become to ferve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue fpecially to be atchiev'd.
Tell me thy mind, for I have Pifa left,
And am to Padua come, as he that leaves

Lucentio is here speaking of himself. We muft certainly therefore place a full ftop at the end of the preceding line, and read Lucentio his fon, &c. Revifal,

A fhallow plafh to plunge him in the deep,
And with fatiety feeks to quench his thirst.

Tra. Me pardonato, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;

Glad that you thus continue your refolve,
To fuck the fweets of fweet philofophy:
Only, good mafter, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral discipline,
Let's be no Stoicks, nor no ftocks, I pray;
Or fo devote to Ariftotle's checks,
As Ovid be an outcaft quite abjur'd.
Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practice rhetoric in your common talk;
Mufic and poefy use to quicken you;
The mathematics, and the metaphyfics,
Fall to them, as you find your ftomach ferves you :
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en:
In brief, Sir, ftudy what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise.
If, Biondello, thou wert come afhore,
We could at once put us in readiness,
And take a lodging fit to entertain
Such friends as time in Padua fhall beget.
But ftay a while, what company is this?
Tra. Mafter, fome fhew to welcome us to town.

SCENE II.

Enter Baptifta, with Catharina and Bianca, Gremio and Hortenfio. Lucentio and Tranio stand by.

Bap. Gentlemen both, importune me no farther; For how I firmly am refolv'd, you know; That is, not to beftow my youngest daughter, Before I have a husband for the elder; If either of you both love Catharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, Leave fhall you have to court her at your pleafure. Gre. To cart her rather.-She's too rough for me. There, there, Hortenfio, will you any wife? Cath. I pray you, Sir, is it your will To make a ftale of me amongft thefe mates?