his own observation or invention. One may compare the process, by which Shakespeare transformed the old play into the one which bears his name, to the work of a great architect who, finding a hideous, dingy, incommodious building, pulls it down; and then, using almost the same bricks or stones, designs and erects a handsome, cheerful, and commodious palace. In the old play, Ferando is a coarse and dullwitted fellow; transformed into Petruchio, he becomes, if not exactly refined, at least a determined and witty character, who, throughout all his extravagant assumption of severity, retains the manners and the heart of a gentleman; impressing the audience with the belief that such a man, having once subdued the temper of a self-willed and passionate woman, could hardly fail to win her love, if there was any good in her character, by his strength of will; and, having won it, would retain it by that innate gentleness which all his well-acted eccentricities could not conceal. The Kate of the old play is a very different person from the Katharina of Shakespeare. The speech, in which the latter describes so eloquently the duties of a wife, is not more superior to the dreary homily for which it was substituted, than she is herself, in every quality of womanhood, to her prototype in the older comedy. The loves of Lucentio and Bianca, of Hortensio and the Widow, are certainly more interesting than those of Aurelius and Philena,1 or of Polidor and Emilia.

Sander, who is nothing more than a vulgar clown, becomes, in the shape of Grumio, transformed into a study of humorous comicality fit to rank with some of Shakespeare's best

1 This name is spelt variously, in the old play, Philena, Phylena, Philema, Phylema.

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I cannot

creations in this line of character. see why this play should be called "an outrageous farce;" surely it is quite as worthy of the name of comedy as many plays so called. Is The Merry Wives of Windsor to be stigmatized as a farce, because it is full of practical jokes? If Tobin's Honeymoon be dignified with the title of a comedy, surely a play which is on the same subject, and is much more cleverly treated, should not be sneeringly spoken of as "outrageous farce." It is a great pity that, in representing this play upon the stage, most managers should have done their best to degrade Shakespeare's work; and to exclude carefully from the comedy all the refinement with which he had so characteristically endowed it.

But some one has been found, at last, with courage enough to follow the footsteps of Planché and Webster. Mr. Augustin Daly has produced this play at his theatre in New York, retaining the Induction and the 'comedy scenes, with-I am happy to saythe greatest success. His edition of the play has been privately printed; and in the words of the introduction, written by that accomplished critic Mr. William Winter, "this book will serve to show that in Mr. Daly's present revival of 'The Taming of the Shrew' a careful and thoughtful effort is made to do absolute justice to the original piece." Mr. Daly, wisely considering that the omission of proper scenery was by no means essential, has mounted the play with liberality and good taste. The fact that the comedy, as represented by Mr. Daly's company, ran for more than a hundred consecutive nights-indeed it has proved one of his greatest financial -may, perhaps, encourage other managers to follow so good an example.

successes

SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath. Enter HOSTESS and SLY; the latter very drunk. Sly. I'll pheeze1 you, in faith. Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

Sly. Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: Sessa!3

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

Sly. No, not a denier.5 Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

10

Host. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.

6

[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. [Falls asleep.

Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.

Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:

Trash Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd;" And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.8

20

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.
First Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he,
my lord;

He cried upon it at the merest 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.
First Hun. I will, my lord.

30

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

Emboss'd, i.e. exhausted, and foaming at the mouth. 8 Brach, bitch. 9 Made it good, i.e. recovered the scent.

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Sec. 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!

Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,

A most delicious banquet by his bed,

And brave attendants near him when he wakes,

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90

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, Wherein your cunning can assist me much. There is a lord will hear you play to-night: But I am doubtful of your modesties; Lest over-eying of his odd behaviour,— For yet his honour never heard a playYou break into some merry passion, And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient. A Player. Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,

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110

And call him "madam," do him obeisance.
Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished:
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say "What is 't your honour will com-
mand,

Wherein your lady and your humble wife May show her duty and make known her love?"

[And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,

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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 this seven years hath esteemed him3
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou
canst:

Anon I'll give thee more instructions.

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[Exit Servant.

I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman:
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband;
And how my men will stay themselves from
laughter

When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes.

1 Antic, ie., queer fellow, oddity.

2 Buttery, i.e., pantry.

Esteemed him, i.e. himself.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A bedchamber in the Lord's house.

SLY is discovered in a rich nightgown, with Attendants: some with apparel, others with basin and ewer and other appurtenances; and Lord, dressed like a servant.

Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. First Serv. Will 't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?

Sec. Serv. Will 't please your honour taste of these conserves?

Third Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day?

Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me "honour" nor "lordship:" I ne'er 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, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather.

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!

15

Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, 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:5 here 's

Third Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!

Sec. Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants droop!

Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,

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As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banish-
ment,

4 Sheer ale, i.e. unmixed ale; what brewers call "entire." 5 Bestraught, i.e. distracted.

VOL. II.

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39

Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt? Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,

And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. First Serv. Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift

As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 50 [Sec. 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.
Third Serv. Or Daphne roaming through a
thorny wood,

Scratching her legs, that one shall swear she bleeds,

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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.

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

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

1 Trapp'd, i.e. adorned with trappings.

Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? 70 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, And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly. Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. Sec. Serv. Will 't please your mightiness to wash your hands?