Imagens das páginas

Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

Phe. [To SYLVIUS.] I will not eat my word, now thou Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. [art mine;


Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,

That bring these tidings to this fair assembly-
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day,

Men of great worth resorted to this forest,

Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
In his own conduct, purposely to take
His brother here, and put him to the sword:
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came;
Where, meeting with an old religious man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprise, and from the world:
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restored to them again
That were with him exiled. This to be true,
I do engage my life.

Duke S. Welcome, young man;

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
To one, his lands withheld; and to the other,
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And after, every of this happy number,

That have endured shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
And fall into our rustic revelry.-

Play, music; and you, brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience; if I heard you rightly,
The duke hath put on a religious life,

And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Jaq. de B. He hath.

Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.-

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You [To OLIVER] to your land, and love, and great allies:

You [To SYLVIUS] to a long and well deserved bed:And you [To TOUCHSTONE] to wrangling; for thy loving voyage

Is but for two months victuall'd.-So to your pleasures:
I am for other than for dancing measures.
Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.

[Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, And we do trust they'll end in true delights. [4 dance.


Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that "good wine needs no bush," 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor can insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make my curt'sy, bid me farewell.


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CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker,
Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and
other Servants attending on the Lord,
BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of PADUA
VINCENTIO, an old Gentleman of PISA.
LUCENTIO, Son to VINCENTIO, in love with BIANCA.
PETRUCHIO, a Gentleman of VERONA, a Suitor to

Suitors to BIANCA


GRUMIO, } Servants to PETRUCHIO.

Pedant, an old Fellow set up to personate VINCENTIO

KATHARINA, the Shrew,} Daughters to BAPTISTA

BIANCA, her Sister,


Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on

SCENE,-Sometimes in PADUA; and sometimes in PETRUCHIO'S House in the Country.


To the original Play of "The Taming of a Shrew," entered on the Stationers books in 1594, and printed in quarto in 1607.

A Lord, &c.


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Suitors to the Daughters of ALPHONSUS.




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, paucas palíabris; 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; [hounds: 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:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
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,
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 h waked.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the jest:-
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,

And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters,
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And, if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And, with a low submissive reverence,

Say, What is it your honour will command?

Let one attend him with a silver bason

Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,

And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your hands!
Some one be ready with a costly suit,
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;
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 pastime passing excellent,

If it be husbanded with modesty.

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you we'll play our part, As he shall think, by our true diligence,

He is no less than what we say he is.

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. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:[Exit Servant Belike, some noble gentleman, that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here.— Re-enter a Servant.

How now? who is it?
Serv. An it please your honour,
Players that offer service to your lordship.
Lord. Bid them come near.

Enter Players.
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 drty.

Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remember, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son ;'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd.

1 Play. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. Lord 'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some sport in hand, Wherein your cunning can assist me much There is a lord will hear you play to-night: But I am doubtful of your modesties: Lest, over-eyeing of his odd behaviour, (For yet his honour never heard a play,) You break into some merry passion, And so offend him: for I tell you, Sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient.

iPlay. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antic in the world.

Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them triendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords.

[Exeunt Servant and Players.

Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew, my page, [To a Servant.
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
And call him Madam, do him obeisance.

Tell him from me, (as he will win my love,)

He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observed 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 shew 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 overjoy'd

To see her noble lord restored to health,

Who, for twice seven years, hath esteem'd him

No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:

And if the boy have not a woman's gift,

To rain a shower of commanded tears,

An onion will do well for such a shift;

Which in a napkin being close convey'd,

Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.

[Exit Serv.

See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.-
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman:
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband:
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them: haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [Exeunt.

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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 over-leather.

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour! O, that a mighty man, of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

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 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 0, this it is that makes your lady mourn.

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Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll shew thee Io as she was a maid,

And how she was beguiled and surprised,

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,

So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
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, 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?

Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?

I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;

I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:

Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed;

And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.-

Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?

[Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restored! O, that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you waked, so waked as if you slept. Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Serv. O yes, my lord; but very idle words;-
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door,
And rail upon the hostess of the house;

And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts;
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

3 Serv. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor no such
Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,- [maid;
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

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 should call me lord; I am your goodman. 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?
Lord. Madam.

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 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 charged,

In peril to incur your former malady,

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.

Serv. 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,
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 com-
monty 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.
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.


SCENE I.-PADUA. A public Place,


Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts-
I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy;

And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd
With his good will, and thy good company,
Most trusty servant, well approved in all;
Here let us breathe, and happily institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being, and my father first,
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.

Vincentio his son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceived,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds;
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue specially to be achieved.
Tell me thy mind: for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come; as he that leaves
A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;

Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue and this moral discipline,
Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or so devote to Aristotle's checks,
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured:
Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk:
Music and poesy use to quicken you:
The mathematics, and the metaphysics,

Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you:
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en ;—

In brief, Sir, study what you most affect.

Luc Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.

It, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,

We could at once put us in readiness;

And take a lodging, fit to entertain

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 HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside. Bap. Gentlemen, impórtune me no further, For how I firmly am resolved you know; That is,-not to bestow my youngest daughter

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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 Maid's 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; For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl. Kath. A pretty peat! 'tis best

Put finger in the eye,-an she knew why.

Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.-
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
My books and instruments shall be my company;
On them to look, and practise by myself.

Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak.

Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I, that our good-will effects
Bianca's grief.

Gre. Why, will you mew her up,

Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,


And make her bear the penance of her tongue? Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolved.Go in, Bianca.


And for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth.-If you, Hortensio,—
Or signior Gremio, you,-know any such,
Prefer them hither: for to cunning men

I will be very kind, and liberal

To mine own children in good bringing-up;
And so farewell.-Katharina, you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca.

[Exit. Kath. Why, and I trust I may go too; may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike, I knew not what to take, and what to leave? Ha! [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here is none will hold you.-Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell;-yet for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man, to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.

Hor. So will I, signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love,-to labour and effect one thing specially.

Gre. What's that, I pray?

Hor. Marry, Sir, to get a husband for her sister. Gre. A husband! a devil.

Hor. I say, a husband.

Gre. I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?

Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough.

Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition, to be whipped at the high-cross every morning.


Hor. Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained, by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to 't afresh. Sweet Bianca!-Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, signior Gremio?

Gre. I am agreed: and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on.

Tra [Advancing] I pray, Sir, tell me,-Is it possible
That love should of a sudden take such hold?
Luc. O Tranio, till I found it to be true,

I never thought it possible, or likely;
But see! while idly I stood looking on,
I found the effect of love in idleness:

And now in plainness do confess to thee,-
That art to me as secret, and as dear,
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was,-
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl:
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now;
Affection is not rated from the heart:

If love have touch'd you, naught remains but so,-
Redime te captum, quam queas minimo.

Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.

Tra Master, you look'd so longly on the maid,
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
Luc. O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.

Tra. Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her sister

Began to scold, and raise up such a storm,

That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?
Luc Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air;
Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.

Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance. I pray, awake, Sir; if you love the maid,

Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands :-
Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,
That, till the father rid his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home;
And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
Because she shall not be annoy'd with suitors.
Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
But art thou not advised, he took some care

To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
Tra Ay, marry, am I, Sir; and now 'tis plotted.
Luc. I have it, Tranio.

Tra. Master, for my hand,

Both our inventions meet and jump in one.

Luc. Tell me thine first.

Tra. You will be schoolmaster,

And undertake the teaching of the maid:

That's your device.

Luc. It is may it be done?

Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your part, And be in Padua here Vincentio's son?

Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?

Luc Basta; content thee; for I have it full.

We have not yet been seen in any house;
Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces,
For man or master: then it follows thus ;-
Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should:
I will some other be; some Florentine,

Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa.
'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so:-Tranio, at once
Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak:
When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits.

In brief, then, Sir, sith it your pleasure is,
And I am tied to be obedient,

(For so your father charged me at our parting;

"Be serviceable to my son," quoth he,"

Although, I think, 'twas in another sense,)

I am content to be Lucentio,

Because so well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves:
And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid
Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.


Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been?
Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now I where are
Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes? [you?
Or you stolen his? or both? pray, what's the news?
Luc. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.

Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
And I for my escape have put on his;
For in a quarrel, since I came ashore,

I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried:
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life:
You understand me?

Bion. I, Sir! ne'er a whit.

Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth; Tranio is changed into Lucentio.

Bion. The better for him; would I were so too!
Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter.
But, sirrah,-not for my sake, but your master's,-1

You use your manners discreetly in all kind of com-
When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; [panies:
But in all places else, your master Lucentio.
Luc. Tranio, let's go :-

One thing more rests, that thyself execute;-
To make one among these wooers: if thou ask me why,-
Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. [Exeunt.

1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; comes there any more of it?

Page. My lord, 'tis but begun.

Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, Madam lady; would 'twere done!

SCENE II.-The same. Before HORTENSIO'S House.

Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave,
To see my friends in Padua; but, of all,
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortensio; and, I trow, this is his house:-
Here, sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.

Gru Knock, Sir! whom should I knock? is there

any man has rebused your worship?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

Gru. Knock you here, Sir? why, Sir, what am I, Sir, that I should knock you here, Sir?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,

And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.

Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome: I should knock And then I know after who comes by the worst. [you first, Pet. Will it not be?

'Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it; I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it.

[He wrings GRUMIO by the ears. Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you: sirrah! villain!

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Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core bene trovato, may I say.

Hor. Alla nostra casa bene venuto,
Molto honorato signior mio Petruchio.
Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel.

Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he 'leges in Latin.If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, -Look you, Sir,-he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, Sir: well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, (for aught I see,) two and thirty,-a pip out?

Whom, would to God, I had well knock'd at first,
Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

Pet. A senseless villain!-Good Hortensio,


I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.
Gru. Knock at the gate?-O heavens !
Spake you not these words plain,-"Sirrah, knock me
Rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly?"
And come you now with-knocking at the gate?
Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
Hor. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge:
Why, this is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you;
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend,-what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona?

Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the
To seek their fortunes further than at home, [world,
Where small experience grows. But, in a few,
Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:-
Antonio, my father, is deceased;

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