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To the Original Play of The Taming of a Shrew,

4to. 1607.
A Lord, &c.
SLY.
A Tapster.
Page, Players, Huntsmen, &c.

Dramatis personae.

MEN.
ALPHONSUS, A Merchant of Athens.
JEROBEL, Duke of Cestus.
AURÉLIUS, bis Son,
FERANDO,

Suitors to the Daughters of Alphonsus.
POLIDOR,
VALERIA, Servant to Aurelius.
SANDER, Servant to Ferando.
PHYLOTUS, a Merchant who personates the Duke.

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Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and Alphonsus.

SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country-House.

1

Characters in the Induction,

A Lord, before whom the Play is supposed to be play'd.
CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker.
Hostess.
Page, Players, Huntsmen, and other Servants attending on the

Lord.

Dramatis personae.

MEN.
BAPTISTA, Father to Katharina and Bianca; very rich.
VINCENT 10, an old Gentleman of Pisa,
LUCENTIO, Son to Vincentio, in Love with Bianca.
PETRUCH10, a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor to Katharina.
GREM10,

Pretenders to Bianca.
HORTENS10,
TRANIO,

Servants to Lucentio.
BIONDELLO,
GRUMIO, Servant to Petruchio.
PEDANT, an old Fellow set up to personate Vincentio.

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WOMEN.
KATHARINA, the Shrew.
BIANCA, ber Sister.
Widow.

Tailor, Haberdasher ; with Servants attending on Baptista,

and Petruchio.

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SCENE, sometimes in Padua ; and sometimes in Petruchio's

House in the Country.

Bij

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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, Jeronimy ;-Go to
thy cold bed, and warm thee.

9 Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough.

[Exit. Biij

Sly.

20

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.

[Falls asleep. Wind Horns. Enter a Lord from Hunting, with a Train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my

hounds :
Brach Merriman-the poor cur is imbost-
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.

Hunt. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the meerest loss,
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.

Hunt. I will, my lord.
Lord. What's here? onę dead, or drunk ? See,
doth he breathe ?

zo 2 Hunt. 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 loathisone is thine image!-
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

Wrap'd

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