Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor.-Pr'ythee, get thee further. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away: A paper from fortune's close-stool, to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself. Enter Lafeu. Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat), that has fallen into the unclean fish-pond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched. Lof. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her! There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word. Laf. You beg a single penny more come, you shall ha't; save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox' my passion! give me your hand: -How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me. Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out. Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you. SCENE III. [Exeunt. But first I beg my pardon, The young lord Offence of mighty note; but to himself Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eyes: whose words all ears took captive; Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve, Humbly call'd mistress. King. Praising what is lost, King. I am not a day of season, For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail In me at once: But to the brightest beams Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth, The time is fair again. Ber. Dear sovereign, pardon to me. King. My high-repented blames, Not one word more of the consumed time. Ber. Admiringly, my liege at first King. Well excus'd: That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away I am sure, I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it. Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, hither; That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Upon her great disaster. Ber. She never saw it. Dia. Good my lord, King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine ho- He had not my virginity. nour; And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, King. What say'st thou to her? Ber. Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove That thou art so inhuman, 'twill not prove so: And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, And was a common gamester to the camp. And she is dead; which nothing, but to close Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, More than to see this ring. Take him away. [Guards seize Bertram. My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Gracions sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not; Who hath, for four or five removes, come short Your highness with herself. King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widow er; 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 him for this, I'll none of him. Lafeu, King. The heavens have thought well on thee, I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Now, justice on the doers! Re-enter Bertram, guarded. King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow and Diana. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy. She's impudent, my lord; Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were 80, Of six preceding ancestors, that gem King. Methought, you said, You saw one here in court could witness it. So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles. Ber. What of him ? He's quoted for a most perfidious s'ave, Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth: Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter, King. She hath that ring of yours. Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I lik'd her, And boarded her i'the wanton way of youth: King. Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off), King. Come hither, count; Do you know these By him, and by this woman here, what know you? 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? Dia. Ay, my good lord. 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? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him? I never gave it him. Dia. 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 had'st this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. King. Take her away. Dia. I'll never tell you. I'll put in bail, my liege. King. I think thee now some common customer. Dia, By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this while? Both, both; O, 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 I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. [clearly, 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? Laj. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon :Good Tom Drum [To Parolles], 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, All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, Advancing. The king's a beggar, now the play is done: All is well ended, if this suit be won, That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day: Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [Exeunt. Taming of the Shrew. Christopher Sły, a drunken Tinker. Hostess, Page, Players, Hurtsmen, and other Servants attending on the Lord. DRAMATIS PERSONE. Persons in the } Baptista, a rich Gentleman of Padua. Vincentio, an old Gentleman of Pisa. Induction. Lucentio, Son to Vincentio, in Love with Bianca. Petruchio, a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor to Ka Gremio, tharina. Hortensio, 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 Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country House. Re-enter a Servant. INDUCTION. hounds: Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, 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 with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine helies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, 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 Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless Then take him up, and manage well the jest:Carry him gently to my fairest chamber, wak'd. [fancy. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: ith flowers; 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; [hands? 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 pa passing excellent, pastime passing If it be husbanded ausbanded with modesty. 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you we'll play our part, As he shall think, by our true diligence, 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 sounds. Sirrab, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds: [Exit Servant. Belike, some noble gentleman; that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. 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 ;- 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour neans. 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. [To a Servant. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew, my page, And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: command, 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 over-joy'd, To see her noble lord restor'd to health, Who, for twice seven years, hath esteem'd him [Exit Servant. I know the boy will well usurp the grace, [Exeunt. 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? Sly. I am Christophero 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 overleather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your ho O, that a mighty man, of such descent, [nour! Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Šly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedler, ped 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, 1 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 As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. [house, 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, On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. F Say, thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground: 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe, [as swift 2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee Adonis, painted by a running brook: [straight 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, [wood; 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: And at that sight shall hall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord: W Thou hast a lady far more beautiful 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,1 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 do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak; [hands? And once again, a pot o'the smallest ale. 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your [Servants present an Ewer, Bason, and Napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd! O, that once more you knew but what you are! 1 Serv. O, yes, my yes, m lord ; but very idle words For And rail upon the hostess of the house; [maid; Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! All. Amen. Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants. Page, How fares my noble lord? 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 shoul should call me lord; I am your goodman/ 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 Above some fifteen year and more. [and slept 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. Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendAre come to play a pleasant comedy, Ement, 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 it: Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling-trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history. Siy. Well, we'll see't we'll see't: Come, madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger.의 은 현재가 Jane dormanten They sit down. Luc. Tranio, since for the great desire I had To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,-- all; And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Vincentio, his son, brought up in Florence, It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine, if Let's be no Stoics, nor no stocks, I pray; As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd: The mathematics, and the metaphysics, |