INDUCTION. SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath. Sly. I'll pheeze you, in faith. Sly. Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucus pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! Hest. 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. ΙΟ 20 Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good He cried upon it at the merest loss, Lord. Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, 30 Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? Sec. Hun. He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. A most delicious banquet by his bed, 4I 50 Sec. Hun. It would seem strange unto him Some one be ready with a costly suit, ба Lord. Take him up gently and to bed with him; How now! who is it? 80 Now, fellows, you are welcome. Players. We thank your honor. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? A Player. 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: A Player. I think 'twas Soto that your honor means. 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 behavior,For yet his honor 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, Were he the veriest antic in the world. 100 Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords. [Exit one with the players. Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page, And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance. 130 An onion will do well for such a shift, When they do homage to this simple peasant. 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 honor taste of these conserves? Third Serv. What raiment will your honor wear to-day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honor' 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 overleather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humor in your honor! O, that a mighty man of such descent, Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a peddler, 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: 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, 30 As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: 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. 5 Sec. Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Lord. We show thee lo as she was a maid, And how she was beguiled and surprised, 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, 60 And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, Thou hast a lady far more beautiful First Serv. And till the tears that she hath shed for thee Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? 70 Or do I dream? or have I dreamed till now? I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak; I smell sweet savors and I feel soft things: Upon my life, I am a lord indeed, And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly. 79 O, how we joy to see your wit restored! 121 Page. Thrice-noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two, Or, if not so, until the sun be set: For your physicians have expressly charged, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed: . I hope this reason stands for my excuse. Sly. Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Messenger. 130 Mess. Your honor's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy: 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 comonty a Christmas gambold or a tumblingtrick? 141 Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger. Flourish. ACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public place. And by my father's love and leave am arm'd A merchant of great traffic through the world, Tra. Mi perdonato, gentle master mine, 10 20 7> That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward. [your fill. Kath. A pretty peat! it is best Put finger in the eye, an she knew why. Bian. Sister,content you in my discontent. 80 Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe: My books and instruments shall be my company, On them to look and practise by myself. Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak. Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief. Gre. Why will you mew her up, Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell, 30 And make her bear the penance of her tongue? Glad that you thus continue your resolve 40 Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand by. Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther, There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Kath. Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike, I knew not what to take, and what to leave, ha? [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here's none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out: our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell; yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father. Hor. So will I, Signor Gremio; but a word. I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress and be happy rivals in Bianca's love, to labor and effect one thing specially. Gre. What's that, I pray? 121 Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her Master, your love must live a maid at home; sister. Gre. A husband! a devil. Gre. I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell? 129 Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition, to be whipped at the high cross every morning. Hor. Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained till by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to't afresh. Sweet Bianca! Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, Signior Gremio? Gre. I am agreed; and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her and bed her and rid the house of her! Come on. 150 [Exeunt Gremio and Hortensio. Tra. I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold? Luc. O Tranio, till I found it to be true, I never thought it possible or likely; But see, while idly I stood looking on, I found the effect of love in idleness: And now in plainness do confess to thee, That art to me as secret and as dear As Anna to the queen of Carthage was, 160 Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now; Affection is not rated from the heart: If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so, 'Redime te captum quam queas minimo.' Luc. Gramercies, lad, go forward; this con tents: The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound. Tra. Master, you look'd so longly on the maid, Began to scold and raise up such a storm 180 Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance. I pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid, it stands: Her eldest sister is so curst and shrewd That till the father rids his hands of her, And therefore has he closely mew'd her up, Luc. I have it, Tranio. Tra. 191 Master, for my hand, Both our inventions meet and jump in one. Luc. Tell me thine first. Tra. You will be schoolmaster, And undertake the teaching of the maid: That's your device. Luc. It is: may it be done? Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your part, 200 And be in Padua here Vincentio's son, Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends, Visit his countrymen and banquet them? Luc. Basta; content thee, for I have it full. In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is, 210 |