Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor.-Pr'ythee, get thee further. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh, pr'ythee. stand away: A paper from fortune's close-stool, to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself. Enter Lafeu. Laf. Enter Bertram. He looks well on't. King. I am not a day of season, Ber. Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat), that has fallen into the unclean fish-pond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is mud-Not one word more of the consumed time. died withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; Let's take the instant by the forward top; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles The inaudible and noiseless foot of time of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit. Steals ere we can effect them: You remember Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly The daughter of this lord ? scratched. Lof. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for yon: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word. Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand :-How does your drum ? me. Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out. Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you. SCENE III. [Exeunt. Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease! Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name Ber. Hers it was not. Count. Son, on my life, I have seen her wear it: and she reckon'd it Laf. King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Upon her great disaster. Ber. She never saw it. Dia. Good my lord, Ask him upon his oath, if he does think King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine ho- He had not my virginity. nour; And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Exit Bertram, guarded. Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Who hath, for four or five removes, come short Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech King. [Reads. Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPULET. Laf. I will boy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him for this, I'll none of him. : King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors :-Go, speedily, and bring again the count. [Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. Count. Now, justice on the doers! Be-enter Bertram, guarded. King, I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow and Diana. Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet; My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied.. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy. King. Come hither, count; Do you know these women? Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them: Do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? Ber. She's none of mine, my lord. Dia. If you shall marry, That she, which marries you, must marry me, Laf. Your reputation [To Bertram] comes too short ness He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, King. She hath that ring of yours. Dia. I must be patient; You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife, May justly diet me. I pray you yet Ber. The same upon your finger. King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of Jate. Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. King. The story then goes false, you threw it him Out of a casement. Dia. I have spoke the truth. Enter Parolles. Ber. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. King. You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you. Is this the man you speak of? Dia, Ay, my lord. King Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep of), By him, and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman? Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how ! King. How, I pray you? orator. 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 between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her,for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence therefore stand aside.This ring, you say, was yours? Dia. Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. 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. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty; The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And at that time he got his wife with child: Re-enter Widow, with Helena. King. No, my good lord; Both, both; O, pardon ! Laj. 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, All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, The king's a beggar, now the play is done: [Exeunt. SCENE, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country. To the Original Play of The Taming of the Shrew, entered on the Stationers' Books in 1594, and printed in quarto in 1607. DRAMATIS PERSONE. A Lord, &c. Sly. A Tapster. Page, Players, Huntsmen, &c. Alphonsus, a Merchant of Athens. Jerobel, Duke of Cestus: Phylotus, a Merchant who personates the Duke. Phylema, Aurelius, his Son, Suitors to the Daughters of Al-Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and Ferando, Polidor, phonsus. Alphonsus. SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country House. 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 ? 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, 1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; 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. [he breathe? Lord. What's here ? one dead, or drunk? See, doth 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! wak'd. Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! It will be pastime passing excellent, If it be husbanded with modesty. [hands? 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you we'll play our part, As he shall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we say he is. Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes. [Some bear out Sly. A Trumpet sounds. Sirrab, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds: [Exit Servant. Belike, some noble gentleman; that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. 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 ;"Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd." 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. Lord. "Tis very true;-thou didst it excellent.Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some sport in hand, much. Wherein your cunning can assist But I am doubtful of your modesties; There is a lord will hear you play to-night: Lest, over-eyeing of his odd behaviour (For yet his honour never heard a play), And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, You break into some merry passion,, 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: [Exit Servant. I know the boy will well usurp the grace, I long to hear him call the drunkard husband; [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Bedchamber in the Lord's House. Sly is discovered in a rich Night Gown, with Attendants; some with Apparel, others with Bason, 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 me-honour, 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. [nour! Lord, Heaven cease this idle humour in your hoO, that a mighty man, of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit! Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Šly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedler, by education a card-maker, 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 [house, Music. 1 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid; [wood; 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny 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 : 1/4 Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waning age. म 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 til! now? I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak; I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:- [hands? 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your [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 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 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 Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up,- [maid; 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. 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. 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 Above some fifteen year and more. [and slept 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. 1953 Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Or, if not so, until the sun be set: I hope, this reason stands for my excuse. Enter a Servant, Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendAre come to play a pleasant comedy, Ement, For so your doctors hold it very meet; 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? (51 Page. It is a kind of history,ca vár Sly. Well, we'll see't: Come, madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger, que vel data warden They sit down. ACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public Place. Luc. Tranio, since for the great desire I had To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,- I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy, I am in all affected as yourself; s |