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Christopher Sly, a Drunken Tinker.
Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and other
Baptista, a rich Gentleman of Padua.
Vincentío, an old Gentleman of Pisa.
Persons in the
Lucentio, Son to Vincentio, in Love with Bianca.
Pedant, an old Fellow set up to personate Vincentio.
Katharina, the Shrew,
Bianca, her Sister,
}Daughters to Baptista.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and
SCENE, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country.
To the Original Play of The Taming of the Shrew, entered on the Stationers' Books in 1594, and printed in quarto in 1607.
A Lord, &c.
Page, Players, Huntsmen, &c.
Alphonsus, a Merchant of Athens.
Jerobel, Duke of Cestus.
Aurelius, his Son,
Characters in the Induction.
Suitors to the Daughters of Alphonsus.
Valeria, Servant to Aurelius.
Sander, Servant to Ferando.
Phylotus, a Merchant who personates the Duke.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and Alphonsus. SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country House.
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 Slies are no rogues: Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucus pallabris; let the world slide: Sessa!
Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy ;Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough.
[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. [Lies down on the Ground and falls asleep.
Wind Horns. Enter a Lord from Hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.
Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my Brach Merriman,--the poor cur is emboss'd, fhounds: 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:
Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
1 Hun. I will, my lord. [he breathe? Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. [with ale, 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,
1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy.
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your hands?
And ask him what apparel he will wear;