Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord: Thou haft a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waining age. I Man. And 'till the tears that he hath fhed for thee, Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord, and have I fuch a lady? And not a tinker, nor Chriftophero Sly. 2 Man. Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands? Oh, how we joy to fee your wits reftor'd! Sly. Thefe fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap: But did I never fpeak of all that time? 1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door, And rail'd upon the hostess of the house; And fay, you would prefent her at the leet*, Because the bought ftone-jugs, and no feal'd quarts.. Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. 3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor na fuch maid, Nor no fuch men, as you have reckon'd up; And twenty more fuch names and men as these, At the court-leet, or court of the manor. Sly. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends! All. Amen. Sly. By th' mafs, I think I am a lord indeed. What is thy name? Man. Sim, an't please your Honour. Sly. Sim? that's as much as to fay Simeon, or Simon; put forth thy hand, and fill the pot. [The fervant gives him drink. SCENE √. Enter Lady, with attendants. I thank thee; -thou fhalt not lose by it. Lady. How fares my noble Lord? Sly. Marry I fare well, for here is chear enough. Where's my wife? Lady. Here, noble lord, what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me hufband? My men fhould call me lord, I am your goodman. Lady. My hufband and my lord, my lord and hufband; I am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well: what muft I call her? Sly. Alce Madam, or Joan Madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing elfe; fo lords call ladies. Sly. Come, fit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they fay that I have dream'd, and flept above fome fifteen years and more. Lady. Ay, and the time feems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed. Sly. 'Tis much. -Servants, leave me and her alone.- -Madam, undrefs you, and come now to bed. Sim, drink to her. Lady. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or, if not fo, until the fun be fet: For your phyficians have exprefly charg'd, I hope this reafon ftands for my excufe. Sly. Ay, it ftands fo, that I may hardly tarry fo long; but I would be loath to fall into my dream again: I will therefore tarry in defpight of the flest and the blood. Meff. Your Honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant Comedy; Seeing too much fadnefs hath congeal'd your blood; 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 commodity? a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? Lady. No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, houshold stuff? Lady. It is a kind of history. Sly. Well, we'll fee't. Come, Madam wife, fit by my fide, and let the world flip, we shall ne'er be younger. THE TAMING of the SHREW. A C T I.. SCENE I. A Street in Padua. Flourish. Enter Lucentio and Tranio. RANIO, fince for the great defire I had T I am arriv'd from fruitful Lombardy, And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Gave me my being, and my father first, Vincentio his fon †, brought up in Florence, Lucentio is here speaking of himself. We muft certainly therefore place a full ftop at the end of the preceding line, and read Lucentio his fon, &c. Revifal, A fhallow plafh to plunge him in the deep, Tra. Me pardonato, gentle master mine, Glad that you thus continue your refolve, Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise. SCENE II. Enter Baptifta, with Catharina and Bianca, Gremio and Hortenfio. Lucentio and Tranio stand by. Bap. Gentlemen both, importune me no farther; For how I firmly am refolv'd, you know; That is, not to beftow my youngest daughter, Before I have a husband for the elder; If either of you both love Catharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, Leave fhall you have to court her at your pleafure. Gre. To cart her rather.-She's too rough for me. There, there, Hortenfio, will you any wife? Cath. I pray you, Sir, is it your will To make a ftale of me amongft thefe mates? |