you, Not fearing the displeasure of 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. orator. King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for Re-enter Widow, with HELENA. Hel. Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this I'll love her dearly; ever, ever dearly. Dia. Do you know, he promis'd me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st ? Par. Yes, so please your majesty: I did go be-O, tween them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her,-for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talk'd 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 Ay, my good lord. I found it not. Dia I never gave it him. Iaf. 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. I'll never tell you. King. Take her away. Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty; King. Let us from point to point this story know, [TO DIANA. Advancing. [Flourish. All is well ended, if this suit be won, [Exeunt. THIS play has many delightful scenes, though not suf ficiently probable, and some happy characters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare. I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marwhen she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a ries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate: second marriage, is accused by a woman he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to hap piness. The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarce. ly merited to be heard a second time. JOHNSON. 5 Thus, in Julius Cæsar, Ligarius says:- Exorcist and conjurer were synonymous in Shak 3 i. e. common woman, with whom any one may be speare's time. familiar. 4 Owna. 6 i. c. hear us without interruption, and take our parts, i. c. support and defend us. TAMING OF THE SHREW PRELIMINARY REMARKS. THERE is an old anonymous play extant with the same title, first printed in 1596, which (as in the case of King John and Henry V.) Shakspeare rewrote, 'adopting the order of the scenes, and inserting little more than a few lines which he thought worth preserving, or was in too much haste to alter.' Malone, with great probability, suspects the old play to have been the production of George Peele or Robert Greene. Pope ascribed it to Shakspeare, and his opinion was current for many years, until a more exact examination of the original piece (which is of extreme rarity) undeceived those who were better versed in the literature of the time of Elizabeth than the poet. It is remarkable that the Induction, as it is called, has not been continued by Shakspeare so as to complete the story of Sly, or at least it has not come down to us; and Pope therefore supplied the deficiencies in this play from the elder performance; they have been degraded from their station in the text, as in some places incompatible with the fable and Dramatis Persona of Shakspeare; the reader will, how ever, be pleased to find them subjoined to the notes. The origin of this amusing fiction may probably be traced to the sleeper awakened of the Arabian Nights: but similar stories are told of Philip the good Duke of Burgundy, and of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. Marco Polo relates something similar of the Ismaelian Prince Alo-eddin, or chief of the mountainous region, whom he calls, in common with other writers of his time, the old man of the mountain. Warton refers to a collection of short comic stories in prose, set forth by maister Richard Edwards, master of her majesties revels in 1570 (which he had seen in the collection of Collins the poet), for the immediate source of the fable of the old drama. The incidents related by Heuterus in his Rerum Burgund. lib. iv. is also to be found in Goulart's Admirable and Memorable Histories, translated by E. Grimeston, 4to. 1607. The story of Charles V. is related by Sir Richard Barckley, in A Discourse on the *There was a second edition of the anonymous play in 1607; and the curious reader may consult it, in Six old Plays upon which Shakspeare founded, &c.' published by Steevens. Felicitie of Man, printed in 1598; but the frolic, as Mr Holt White observes, seems better suited to the gaiety of the gallant Francis, or the revelry of our own boisterous Henry. Of the story of the Taming of the Shrew no immedi. ate English source has been pointed out. Mr. Douce has referred to a novel in the Piacevoli Notti of Strapa. rola, notte 8, fav. 2, and to El Conde Lucanor, by Don Juan Manuel, Prince of Castile, who died in 1362, as containing similar stories. He observes that the character of Petruchio bears some resemblance to that of Pisardo in Straparola's novel, notte 8, fav. 7. Schlegel remarks that this play has the air of an Italian comedy; and indeed the love intrigue of Lu. centio is derived from the Suppositi of Ariosto, through the translation of George Gascoigne. Johnson has observed the skilful combination of the two plots, by which such a variety and succession of comic incident is ensured without running into perplexity. Petruchio is a bold and happy sketch of a humorist, in which Schlegel thinks the character and peculiarities of an Englishman are visible. It affords another example of Shakspeare's deep insight into human character, that in the last scene the meek and mild Bianca shows she is not without a spice of self-will. The play inculcates a fine moral lesson, which is not always taken as it should be. Every one, who has a true relish for genuine humour, must regret that we are deprived of Shakspeare's continuation of this Interlude of Sly, who is indeed of kin to Sancho Panza.' We think with a late elegant writer, the character of Sly, and the remarks with which he accompanies the play, as good as the play itself.' It appears to have been one of Shakspeare's earliest productions, and is supposed by Malone to have been produced in 1594. Dr. Drake suggests that some of the passages in which Sly is introduced should be adopted from the old Drama, and connected with the text, so as to complete his story; making very slight alteration, and distinguishing the borrowed parts by some mark. ALPHONSUS, A Merchant of Athens. JEROBEL, Duke of Cestus. PEDANT, an old fellow set up to personate Vincentio KATHARINA, the Shrew, Daughters to Baptista. BIANCA, her Sister, Widow. Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio. SCENE, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in VALERIA, Servant to Aurelius. PHYLOTUS, a Merchant who personates the Duke. KATE, EMELIA, PHYLEMA, } Daughters to Alphonsus. Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and Alphonsus. AURELIUS, his Son, Suitors to the Daughters of SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Coun FERANDO, POLIDOR, Alphonsus try House. INDUCTION. 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 pallabris;2 let the world slide: Sessa!3 Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst ?4 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 nim 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 hounds: Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd," 1 Hunt. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, 1 Hunt. I will, my lord. Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? 2 Hunt. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! 1 Hunt. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 2 Hunt. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest:- To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound: Some one be ready with a costly suit, And, when he says he is, say that he dreams, 1 Hunt. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, As he shall think, by our true diligence, [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 ?11 Lord. With all my heart.---This fellow I reSince once he play'd a farmer's eldest son ;--member, have forgot your name; but, sure, that part 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well : Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd." I 1 Play. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.12 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 Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour, your modesties; (For yet his honour never heard a play), You break into some merry passion, And so offend him? for I tell you, sirs, should smile, he grows impatient. If you 1 Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antick in the world.13 1 So again in Troilus and Cressida, Ajax says of 8 Brach originally signified a particular species of Achilles'll pheese his pride.' And in Ben Jon-dog used for the chace. It was a long eared dog, hunting by the scent. son's Alchemist: Come, will you quarrel? I'll feize you, sirrah.' 2 Pocas palabras, Span. few words. 3 Cessa, Ital. be quiet. 4 Broke. 9 Naturally. 10 Moderation. 11 It was in old times customary for players to travel in companies and offer their service at great houses. 5 This line and the scrap of Spanish is used in bur- 12 The old copy prefixes the name of Sincklo to this lesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the line, who was an actor in the same company with Shak. Spanish Tragedy. The old copy reads: S. Jeronimy.'speare. Soto is a character in Beaumont and Fletcher's The emendation is Mason's. 6 An officer whose authority equals that of a con stable. Woman Pleased; he is a farmer's eldest son, but he does not woo any gentlewoman. 13 In the old play the dialogue is thus continued: T'Emboss'd,' says Philips in his World of Words, San. [To the other.] Go get a dishclout to make 'is a term in hunting, when a deer is so hard chased cleyne your shooes, and Ile speak for the properties. that she foams at the mouth; it comes from the Span-[Exit Player.] My lord, we must have a shoulder of ish Desembocar, and is metaphorically used for any mutton for a property, and a little vinegre to make our kind of weariness.' divell roar.' Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,' And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords.--[Exeunt Servants 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 observ'd in noble ladies Unto their lords, by them accomplish'd: 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,Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restored to health, Who, for twice2 seven years, hath esteem'd him3 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. See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst; Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [Exit Servant. I know the boy will well usurp the grace, [Exeunt. Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear today? Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedler, 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. 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 house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth; (Music. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight Adonis, painted by a running brook; Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid; And how she was beguiled and surpris'd, As lively painted as the deed was done." Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: 3 Serv. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood: 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, 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 Sly. Am I a lord; and have I such a lady; beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear: for I Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?" have no more doublets than backs, no more stock-I do not sleep; I see, I hear, I speak; ings 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, 1 Pope remarks, in his preface to Shakspeare, that the top of the profession were then mere players, not gentlemen of the stage; they were led into the buttery, not placed at the lord's table, or the lady's toilette.' 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, bason, and napkin. near Stratford. The house kept by our genial hostess still remains, but is at present a mill. There is a village also called Barton on the heath in Warwickshire. 7 Sheer-ale has puzzled the commentators; and as 2 The old copy reads this. The emendation is The-none of the conjectures offered appear to me satisfactory, obald's. 3 Him is used for himself, as in Chapman's Banquet of Sense, 1595: The sense wherewith he feels him deified.' I shall add one of my own. Maunday Thursday, the day preceding Good-Friday, was anciently called Sheer Thursday, and as it was a day of great comfort to the poor from the doles or distribution of clothes, meat and drink, made by the rich; so Sheer-ale may have been ale which the Tinker had drunk on that day, at his own charge, or rather at that of his landlady, in addition to the portion he had received as alms. But after all, sheer-ale may mean nothing more than ale unmixed, mere-ale, or pure ale. The word sheer is still used for mere, pure. 8 i. e. distraught, distracted. O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! 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,2 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 maid, Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,- 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? Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam? Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd and slept 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 charg❜d, 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 amend ment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet; 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, by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger. [They sit down. ACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public Place. Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO. Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,I am arriv'd 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, Here let us breathe, and happily institute Most trusty servant, well approv'd in all; 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 Bentivoli. Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence, It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd, 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 achiev'd. 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 ethics," As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd: Balke logic with acquaintance that you have, And practise rhetoric in your common talk: Music and poesy use to quicken12 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. 8 10 Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise If, 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 awhile: What company is this? Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GRE MIO, and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIC stand aside. Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no further, That is not to bestow my youngest daughter, Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood, For how I firmly am resolv'd you know ; 1 According to some old authorities, Sly here uses a very ladylike imprecation. Ecastor,' says Cooper, by my fay, used only of women. It is merely a contraction of by my faith. 2 That is at the Court Leet, where it was usual to Pesent such matters, as appears from Kitchen on Courts: Also if tiplers sell by cups and dishes, or measures sealed or not sealed, is inquirable.' 3 Blackstone proposes to read, old John Naps o'the Green.' The addition seems to have been a common one. 4 For comedy. 6 i. e. to fulfil the expectations of his friends. 7 Apply for ply is frequently used by old writers Thus Baret: with diligent endeavour to applie their studies. And in Turberville's Tragic Tales: 'How she her wheele applyde.' 9 Pardon me. 9 Small piece of water. 10 The old copy reads Aristotle's checks. Blackstone suggests that we should read ethics, and the sense seems to require it; I have therefore admitted it into the text. 11 The modern editions read, Talk logic, &c. The old copy reads Balke, which Mr. Boswell suggests may 5 Ingenious and ingenuous were very commonly be right, although the meaning of the word is now lost confounded by old writers. 12 Animate. |