Son, on my life, I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it Laf. 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, Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, (Where you have never come,) or sent it us Upon her great disaster. Ber. She never saw it. King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honor; And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not; Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath for four or five removes,' come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know, Is here attending: her business looks in her With an important visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern 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 widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honor's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for jus tice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is DIANA CAPULET. Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him: for this, I'll none of him. undone. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:- Now, justice on the doers! King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny Ber. She's none of mine, my lord. If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and that is mine; That she, which marries you, must marry me, Laf. Your reputation [To BERTRAM.] comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor, Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your | Not fearing the displeasure of your master, honor, If I be one. Count. He blushes, and 'tis it: Of six preceding ancestors, that gem Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, Methought, you said, What of him? He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, She hath that ring of yours. Ber. I have it not. (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off) By him, and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honorable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. 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. King. How is that? Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:What an equivocal companion is this? Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. Dia. Do you know, he promised 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 between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for indeed he was mad for her, and talked 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 canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence: therefore stand asideThis 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? Dia. I never gave it him. 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 hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. King. Take her away. I'll never tell you. Dia. Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty; sir; The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord, . Owns. Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Re-enter Widow, with HELENA. King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real, that I see? Hel. No, my good lord; "Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. Ber. 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 clearly, 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. 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. i. e. Take our parts, support and defend us TAMING OF THE SHREW. A LORD. PERSONS REPRESENTED. CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker.) Persons in Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen and the Inducother Servants attending on the Lord.) tion. BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of Padua. GREMIO, HORTENSIO, Suitors to Bianca. Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on SCENE, sometimes in PADUA; and sometimes in PETRUCHIO's House in the Country. INDUCTION. SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath. Enter HOSTESS and SLY. Sly. I'll pheese' you, in faith. 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. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Brach Merriman,—the poor cur is emboss'd,'- 1 Beat or knock. Few words. Be quiet. This line and scrap of Spanish is used in burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy. An officer whose authority equals that of a constable. • Bitch. * Strained. 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 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. Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he 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:-- And say, Will't please your lordship cool your | And then-with kind embracements, tempting hands? Some one be ready with a costly suit, And, when he says he is,-say that he dreams, kisses, And with declining head into his bosom,- To see her noble lord restor'd to health, 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst; 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; How now? who is it? Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. We thank your honor. Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;- 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honor means. Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [Exit Servant. 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 laugh ter, When they do homage to this simple peasant. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Bedchamber in the Lord's House. SLY is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with bason, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter Lord, dressed like a Servant. 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 honor taste of these conserves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honor wear to-day? Sly. I am Christopher Sly; call not me-honor, 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 humor in your honor! O, that a mighty man of such descent, Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not 1 Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain our- I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; selves, Were he the veriest antic in the world. 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. 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 honorable 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 honor will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May show her duty, and make known her love? • Moderation. 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. 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; Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment, And banish hence these abject lowly dreams: Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays, • Distracted. [Music. |