BAPTISTA, a rich gentleman of Padua.

A Lord. Christopher Sly, a drunken Tinker. 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 Slys 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 S. JeronimyGo to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough. [Erit. 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 his Train.

Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my

hounds:

Brach Merriman, - the poor cur is emboss'd;
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.
1 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.

1 Hun. I will, my lord.

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

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!

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,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.

2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when
he wak'd.
[fancy.
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless
Then take him up, and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound,
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And, with a low submissive reverence,
Say,What is it your honour will command?
Let one attend him with a silver bason,
Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your
hands?

Some one be ready with a costly suit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
And when he says he is, say, that he dreams.
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.

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 sounas. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds: "Exit Servant.

And how any men will stay themselves from laughter,

Belike some noble gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. Re-enter a Servant.

How now? who is it?

Serv.

An't please your honour, players, That offer service to your lordship.

Lord.

Bid them come near. Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Players. 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,
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 play),
You break into some merry passion,
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
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:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
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 command,
Wherein your lady, and your humble wife,
May show her duty, and make known her love?
And then, with kind embracements, tempting
kisses,

And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed
To see her noble lord restor'd to health,
Who, for this seven years, hath esteemed him
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 despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.

[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;

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.
[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 basin,
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 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 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!

Sly. What! would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Siy'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

1 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants droop.

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

As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth;
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
[Music.

And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch,
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say, thou wilt walk: we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds
are as swift

As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roc.
2 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.

[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:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age.

[thee,

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

2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash
your hands?
[Servants present an ever, basin,
and napkin.

O, how we joy to see your wit restored!
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 Ser. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid;

Nor no such 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 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.

SCENE I.-Padua. A public Place. Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.

Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd, And slept above some fifteen year or more.

Puge. 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. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.

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 charg'd, 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 loth to fall into my dreams again. I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Your honour's players, hearing you amendment,

Are come to play a pleasant comedy,
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: Is it not a commonty, a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling-trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing

stuff.

Sly. What, household stuff?
Tage. It is a kind of history.
Sy. Well, we'll see't:

Come, madam wife, sit by my side,
And let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger.
[They sit down

Luc. Tranio, since, for the great desire I had To see fair Padua, nursery of arts, I am arriv'd for 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, My trusty servant, well approv'd in all; Here let us breathe, and haply institute A course of learning, and ingenious studies. Pisa, renowned for grave citizens, Gave me my being, and my father first,

A merchant of great traffic through the world, Vincentio come of the Bentivolii.

Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue 'specially to be achiev'd.
Tell me thy mind: for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
A shallow plash, to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;
Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire

This virtue, and this moral discipline,
Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or so devote to Aristotle's checks,
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd:
Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk:
Music and poesy use to quicken you;
The mathematics and the metaphysics,
Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you;
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;-
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
If, Bicndello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness;
And take a lodging, fit to entertain
Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay awhile: What company is this?

Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town.

And, for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio
Or, Signior Gremio, you know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal

To mine own children in good bringing-up;
And so farewell. Katharina, you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit.
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.

and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther, For how I firmly am resolv'd you know: That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter, Before I have a husband for the elder: If either of you both love Katharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure. Gre. To cart her rather: She's too rough for me: There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

Kath. I pray you, sir [to BAP.] is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you,

Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

Kath. I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear; I wis, it is not half way to her heart: But, if it were, doubt not her care should be To comb your noddle with a three-legg`d stool, And paint your face, and use you like a fool. Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us!

Gre. And me too, good Lord!

Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime
toward;

That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward.
Luc. But in the other's silence do I see
Maids' mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.

Tra. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your

fill.

Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good What I have said, Bianca, get you in: And let it not displea-e thee, good Bianca; For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl. Kath. A pretty peat; 'tis best

Put finger in the eye-an she knew why.

Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.
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 mayst hear Minerva
speak.

[Aside.

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,

Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,

And make her bear the penance of her tongue? Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd: Go in, Bianca.

[Exit BIANCA.

i

means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.

Hor. So will I, Signior 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 labour and effect one thing specially.

Gre. What's that, I pray?

Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister
Gre. A husband! a devil.
Hor. I say, a husband.

Gre. I say, a devil: Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool as to be married to hell?

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, Sighior 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. [Exeunt GRE. and HOR. Tra. [Advancing.] 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,Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio, If I achieve not this young modest girl: Counsel me, Tranio, for know thou canst; Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt

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 contents;
The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.
Tra. Master, you look'd so longly on the maid,
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
Luc. O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.
Tra. Saw you no more? mark'd you not, how
her sister

Began to scold; and raise up such a storm,
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?
Luc. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air;
Sacred, and sweet, was all I saw in her.

Tra. Nay,then 'tis time to stir him from his trance.
I pray, awake, sir: If you love the maid,
Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it
stands:-

Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,
That, till the father rids his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home;
And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
Because she shall not be annoy'd with suitors.

Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
But art thou not advis'd, he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
Tra. Ay, marry, am I, sir; and now 'tis plotted.
Luc. I have it, Tranio.
Tra

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? [part, Tra. Not possible. For who shall bear your 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. We have not yet been seen in any house; Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces, For man or master: then it follows thus;Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead, Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should: I will some other be; some Florentine, Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa. "Tis hatch'd, and shall be so:-Tranio, at once Uncase thee, take my colour'd hat and cloak: When Biondello comes, he waits on thee; But I will charm him first to keep his tongue. Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits. In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,

And I am tied to be obedient

(For so your father charg'd me at our partiug;
Be serviceable to my son," quoth he,
Although, I think, 'twas in another sense),
I am content to be Lucentio,

Because so well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: And let me be a slave, t' achieve that maid Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.

Enter BIONDELLO.

Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been?

Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you?

Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes?
Or you stol'n his? or both? pray, what's the news?
Luc. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
And I for my escape have put on his;
For in a quarrel, since I came ashore,
I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried.
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life;
You understand me?
Bion.
I, sir? ne'er a whit.
Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth;
Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio.

[too' Bion. The better for him. 'Would I were so Tra. So would I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,

That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter. [advise

But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's, I You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:

When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
But in all places else, your master Lucentio.
Luc. Tranio, let's go :-

One thing more rests, that thyself execute;
To make one among these wooers: If thou ask
me why,-

Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. [Exeunt.

(The Presenters above speak.)

1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely. Comes there any more of it?

Page. My lord. 'tis but begun.

St. Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. 'Would 'twere done! [They sit and mark. SCENE II.-The same. Before Hortensio's House. Enter PETRUCIO and GRUMIO.

Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave,
To see my friends in Padua; but, of all,
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortensio; and, I trow, this is his house:
Here, Sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.

Gru. Knock, sir! whom should I knock?
there any man has rebused your worship?
Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
Gru. Knock you here, sir? why, sir, what a
I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate, And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate. Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome: I should knock you first,

And then I know after who comes by the worst. Pet. Will it not be?

'Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it; I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it.

[He wrings GRUMIO by the ear Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you: sirrah! villain! Enter HORTENSIO.

Hor. How now? what's the matter?-My old friend Grumio! and my good friend Petrucio !--How do you all at Verona ?

Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?

Con tutto il core bene trovato, may I say.
Hor. Alla nostra casa bene venuto,

Molto honorato signor mio Petrucio.

Rise Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel