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, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays, Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch, [Music Say, thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground: 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 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 lo, as she was a maid; And how she was beguiled and surpris'd, As lively painted as the deed was done. 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood; Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, [1] Wilnecotte is a village in Warwickshire, with which Shakspeare wa well acquainted, near Stratford. Th house kept by our genial hostess, still remains, but is at present a mill. The meanest hovel to whicr Shakspeare has an allusion, interests curiosity, and acquires an importance: at least, it becomes the object of a poetical antiquarian's inquiries. T. WARTON. So work manly the blood and tears are drawn. Than any woman in this waning age. 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? I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:- And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.- 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? [Servants present an ewer, bason, and O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! napkin. O, that once more you knew but what you are! 1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words :- 3 Serv. Why, sir, you know no house,nor no such maid; And twenty more such names and men as these, Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? [2] At the Court-leet, or courts of the manor. JOHNS. Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me-husband? My men should call me-lord; I am your good-man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. 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, and slept Above some fifteen year and more. 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. 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, 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 Servant. Ser. Your honour's players, hearing your 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, Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play, Sly. Marry, I will; let them play: is not a common ty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling-trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing staff. Sly. What, household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history. Sly. 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. ACT I. SCENE I.—Padua. A public Place. Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO. Lucentio. TRANIO, since—for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Gave me my being, and my father first, Vincentio his son, brought up in Florence, Glad that you thus continue your resolve, [3] To fulfil the expectations of his friends. MALONE. Music and poesy, use to quicken you; Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you : Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. We could at once put us in readiness; Such friends, as time in Padua shall beget. But stay a while: What company is this? Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, and Bap. Gentlemen, impórtune me no further, If either of you both love Katharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, Gre. To cart her rather: She's too rough for me :- There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? Kath. 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 I do 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 displease thee, good Bianca ; |