King. All is whole; Not one word more of the consumed time. Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals ere we can effect them: You remember The daughter of this lord? Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart King. That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away From the great compt: But love, that comes too Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, [late, To the great sender turns a sour offence, Crying, That's good that's gone: our rash faults Make trivial price of serious things we have, Not knowing them, until we know their grave: Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust: Our own love waking cries to see what's done, While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: The main consents are had; and here we'll stay To see our widower's second marriage-day. Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease! Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's I stood ingag'd1: but when I had subscrib'd King. Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know, honour; And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Ber. [Exit Bertram, guarded. Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not; Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath for four or five removes, come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know, Is here attending: her business looks in her With an important visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself. to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to say it, he won me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPULET. Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him4: for this, I'll none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these Go, speedily, and bring again the count. King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lord- Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, Methought, you said, Now, justice on the doers! You saw one here in court could witness it. Both suffer under this complaint we bring, Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them: Do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your Ber. She's none of mine, my lord. You give away myself which is known mine; That she, which marries you, must marry me, Laf. [To Bertram.] Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour, King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your honour, Than in my thought it lies! Dia. Good my lord, He had my honour. 1 Dia. Dia. Ber. The same upon your finger. of late. Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. I have spoke the truth. Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. K. You boggle shrewdly,5 every feather starts you. Is this the man you speak of? Dia. Ay, my lord. K. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master, Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman? Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how? Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. King. How is that? Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:What an equivocal companion is this? Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. Dia. Do you know he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. K. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence: therefore stand aside. -This ring, you say, was yours? Ay, my good lord. Dia. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. King. Who lent it you? It was not lent me neither. I found it not. K. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him? Dia. I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure. King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. Dia. It might be yours or hers for aught I know. King. Take her away, I do not like her now; To prison with her, and away with him.Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. I'll never tell you. K. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. The jeweller, that owes1 the ring, is sent for, Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm'd me, here I qui him: He thinks himself, my bed he hath defil'd; But 'twas his wife who then became with child: And now behold the meaning. Re-enter Widow, with Helena. King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the true office of mine eyes? Is't real, that I see? Hel. No, my good lord; "Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. Ber. Both, both; 0, pardon! Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, When from my finger you can get this ring, And are by me with child, &c.-This is done: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you! O, my dear mother, do I see you living? Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon:-[To Parolles.] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow:[To Diana.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; A LORD. Taming of the Shrew. Persons Represented. CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker. Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and other Servants attending on the Lord. TRANIO, Persons BIONDELLO, in the Induc- BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of Padua. GREMIO, Suitors to Bianca. Servants to Lucentio. GRUMIO, Servants to Petruchio. PEDANT, an old Fellow set up to personate KATHARINA, the Shrew, Daughters toBaptista. Tailor, Haberdasher, und Servants attending SCENE.-Sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country. INDUCTION.1 SCENE I.-BEFORE AN ALEHOUSE ON A HEATH. Sly. I'll pheeze 2 you in faith. Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues: Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier : 5 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 Brach' Merriman,-the poor cur is embossed, 8- brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, 1 Hun. I will, my lord. 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. he lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest:- And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs; doth he breathe? 1 Introduction. 4 Be quiet. 2 Beat. 8 Few words. 7 Bitch. 5 Small French coin. 8 Strained. 6 Constable. As he shall think, by our true diligence, L. Take him up gently, and to bed with him; How now? who is it? Serv. Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I re- 1P.I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. An onion will do well for such a shift; When they do homage to this simple peasant, SCENE II. [Exeunt. A BEDCHAMBER IN THE LORD'S HOUSE. Sly is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Sly. For heaven's sake, a pot of small ale. 2 Serv. Will't please your honour, taste of 3 S. What raiment will your honour wear toSly. I am Christopher Sly; call not me-honour, nor lordship; I never 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, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your O, that a mighty man of such descent, [honour, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit! sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught:2 Here's Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she That done, conduct him to the drunkard's cham-say I am not fourteen pence on the score for And call him-madam, do him obeisance, [ber, 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,- 1 S. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. |