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Gent. Marry, as I take it, t Rousillon; Whither I am going.
Hel. I do beseech you, Sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,
Gent. This I'll do for you.
Hel. And you shall find yourself to be wellthank'd,
Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse again;
SCENE 11.-Rousillon.-The inner Court of the COUNTESS's Palace.
Enter CLOWN and PARolles. Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smells so strong as thou speak'st of: I will hence. forth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.
Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, Sir; I spake but by a metaphor.
Clo. Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee, get thee further.
Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away; a paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.
Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fish pond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: pray you, Sir, use the carp as you may: for he looks like a poor, decay'd, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratch'd.
Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'cou for you: let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. 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
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.
Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, LORDS, 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.
• You need not ask-here it is.
+ Reckoning or estimate.
Count. Tis past, my lege;
And I beseech your majesty to make it
King. My honour'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Laf. This I must say,—
But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
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 reconciled, and the first view shall kill
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high
King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters
That set him high in fame.
Laf. 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 highest beams Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth, The time is far again.
Ber. My high-repented blames §,
Not one word more of the consumed time.
Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
The dust that did offend it.
King Well excused:
That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!
• So in As you like it :- to have seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.'
ti. e. The first interview shall put an end to all recollection of the past.
i. e. Of uninterrupted rain."
Of what should stead her most?
Rer. My gracious sovereign,
Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never her's.
Count. Son, on my life,
I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
La I am sure, I saw her wear it.
Br You are deceived, my lord, she never saw it; In Fiorence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name Or her that threw it: noble she was, and thought I stood ingaged but when I had subscribed To mine own tortune, and intorm'd her fully, I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceased In heavy satisfaction, and would never Receive the ring again.
King, Piutus himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine t,
Ber. She never saw it.
King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine ho
And makest conjectural fears to come into me,
Ber. It you shall prove
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
¡Exit Bertram guarded.
Enter a GENTLEMAN.
King. I an. wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not;
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 honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: Grant it me,
O king; in you it best lies: otherwise a seducer flou
King. The heavens have thought well on thee,
To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:-
Count. Now, justice on the doers!
Enter BERTRAM, guarded.
King. I wonder, Sir, since wives are monsters to you,
And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny
You give away this hand, and that is mine;
Laf. Your reputation [To Bertram] coxies too short for my daughter, you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate crea
Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour,
King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them i!! to friend,
Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your ho
Than in my thought it lies!
Dia. Good my lord,
He had not my virginity.
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
King. What say'st thou to her?
Count. He blushes, and 'tis it:
Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
King. Methought, you said,
You saw one here in court could witness it.
He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
King. She hath that ring of yours.
Ber. I think, she has: certain it is, I liked her, And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth;
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Dia. I must be patient;
You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband)
Ber. I have it not.
Is this the man you speak of?
Dia. Ay, my lord.
King. Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge
Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
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
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. I'll never tell you.
King. Take her away.
Dia. I'll put in bail, my liege.
King. I think thee now some common customer,
Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty;
King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with
Dia. Good mother-fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
The jeweller, that owes the ring is sent for,
Re-enter WIDOW with HELENA.
Hel. No, my good lord;
'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
Ber. Both, both; O, pardon !
Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
kerchief: so, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll
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?-Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a handPar. 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 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 canst say they are married: but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.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 lent me, neither.
King. Where did you find it then?
Dia. I found it not.
King. Let us from point to point this story know,
The king's a beggar, now the play is done : ·
That you express content; which we will pay,
King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts,
How could you give it him?
Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
Dia. I never gave it him.
Servants to Petruchio.
CHARACTERS IN THE INDUCTION To the original Play of The Taming of a Skrew, entered on the Stationers' books in 1594, and printed in quarto in 1697.
A Lord, &c.
Page, Players, Huntsmen, &c.
ALPHONSUS, a Merchant of Athens.
AURELIUS, his Son,
Suitors to the Daughters of
VALERIA, Servant to Aurelius.
PEDANT, an old fellow set up to personate Vincentio. PHYLOTUS, a Merchant who personates the Duke.
KATHARINA, the Shrew;
BIANCA, her Sister,
Daughters to Alphonsus.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando and
Scene, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Pe- Scene, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country-
SCENE 1.-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
Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have
Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the
Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, P'il an-
[Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep.
Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my
Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd **,
1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
1 Hun. I will, my lord.
Lord. What's here? One dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe ?
2 Hun. He breathes, my lord :-Were he not
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot
2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he waked.
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worth-less
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our
As he shall think, by our true diligence,
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?
Ser. An it please your honour, Players that offer service to your lordship. Lord. Bid them come near :
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.
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
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-eying 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.
1 Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world.
Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
[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 laughter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
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 honour taste of these conserves?
3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear today?
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
O, that a mighty man, of such descent,
Sly. What, would you make a man? 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 lying'st 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.
Wilt thou have music? Hark! Apollo plays, [Music.
Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt? Thy hounds shall make the welk answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth: 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 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;
1 Serv. And, till the tears, that she hath shed for thee,
Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
Sty. Am I a lord? And have I such a lady?