There's a quart d ecu for you: Let the justices Not one word more of the consumed time. make you and fortune friends; I am for other bu-Let's take the instant by the forward top;a siness.

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.

[Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Room in the Countess's Palace

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
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.
King...
Well excus'd:
That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt: But love, that comes too
late,
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
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:

Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, Our own love waking cries to see what's done,

Gentlemen, Guards, &c.

King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
Her estimation home.

Count.

'Tis past, my liege:
And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.
King

My honour'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

Laf.
This I must say,
But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife,
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,

Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him
hither;

We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
All repetition:-Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury

The incensing relicks of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent.

I shall, my liege. [Exit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke ? Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high[sent me, King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters That set him high in fame.

Laf.

ness.

Enter Bertram.

He looks well on't.

King. I am not a day of season,
For thou may'st see a sun-shine 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.
My high-repented blames,
All is whole;

Ber.

Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
King

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 hea-
ven, bless!

Or, ere they meet in me, O nature, cease!
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's

name

I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
I am sure, I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it,
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd.
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King.
Plutus himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's mystery more science,
Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety,
That she would never put it from her finger,

orator.

King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with

her.

Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
[Exit Widow.

sir;
The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for,
And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him;
He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd;
And at that time he got his wife with child:
Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick;
So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick;
And now behold the meaning.

King.

Ber.

Re-enter Widow, with Helena.

Is there no exorcist

Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. Is't real, that I see? King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st ? Hel. No, my good lord; Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go be-Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, tween them, as I said; but more than that, he The name, and not the thing. loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and Both, both; 0, pardon! talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this know not what: yet I was in that credit with maid, them at that time, that I knew of their going to found you wond'rous kind. There is your ring, bed; and of other motions, as promising her mar-And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, riage, and things that would derive me ill will to When from my finger you can get this ring, speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. And are by me with child, &c.-This is done: King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? canst say they are married: But thou art too fine Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.clearly, 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?
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."
Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she
goes off and on at pleasure.

Dia.

Dia.

King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife.
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I

know.

I

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:-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,

To make the even truth in pleasure flow :-
If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,

[To Diana.
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
For I can guess, that, by thy honest aid,
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.-
Of that and all the progress, more and less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
All yet seems well; and, if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.

(Advancing.)

[Flourish

SCENE,-sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country.

INDUCTION.

SCENE 1.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 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.

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 musick 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 lunatick;
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,

Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my If it be husbanded with modesty.

hounds:

Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd,
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.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? doth he breathe ?

See,

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 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.
[wak'd.
2 Hun. It would 'seem strange unto him when he
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless
fancy.

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
duty.
[ber,

Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remem-
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,

2 Serv. Will it please your honour taste of these [to-day? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honour, nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; [Servants present an erver, bason, and napkin, and if you give me any conserves, give me con-0, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! serves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll O, that once more you knew but what you are! wear for I have no more doublets than backs, no These fifteen years you have been in a dream; more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept. feet; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. such shoes as my toes look through the overlea- 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:

Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket