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incompatible with the fable and dramatis personæ of Shakespeare; the reader will, however, 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 Ffth. Marco Paulo 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., are also to be found in Goulart's - Admirable and Memorable Histories, translated by E. Grimeston, quarto, 1607. The story of Charles V. is related by Sir Richard Barckley, in ‘A Discourse on the Felicitie of Man,' printed in 1598; but the frolic, as Mr. Holt White observes, seems better suited to the gayety of the gallant Francis, or the revelry of our own boisterous Henry.

“Of the story of the TAMING OF THE SAREw no immediate English source has been pointed out. Mr. Douce has referred to a novel in the · Piacevoli Notti' of Straparola, notte viii. 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 viii. fav. 7.

Schlegel remarks that this play has the air of an Italian comedy ;' and indeed the love-intrigue of Lucentio 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 shetch of a humourist, in which Schlegel thinks the character and peculiarities of an Englishman are visible. It affords another example of Shakespeare'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 Shakespeare's continuation of this Interlude of Sly, who is indeed of kin to Sancho Panza.' We think, with Hazlitt, the character of Sly, and the remarks with which he accompanies the play, as good as the play itself.'”

As this play was not printed during the author's life, but appeared first in the folio of 1623, there are no clashing various readings, other than such as have been proposed to correct some evident or probable misprints, which are neither very gross nor numerous.


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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 Slys 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 Lord. Thou art a fool : if Echo were as fleet. burst?

I would esteem him worth a dozen such. Sly. No, not a denier. Go, by S. Jeronimy, But sup them well, and look unto them all : Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

To-morrow I intend to hunt again. Host. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the 1 Hun. I will, my lord. third-borough.

[Exit. Lord. What's here ? one dead, or drunk ? See, Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll an

doth he breathe ? swer him by law. I'll not budge an inch, boy : let 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord. Were he not him come, and kindly.

warm'd with ale,
(Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

Lord. O, monstrous beast! how like a swine he Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with

lies. Huntsmen and Servants.

Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. hounds :

What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, Brach Merriman,—the poor cur is emboss'd, Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. A most delicious banquet by his bed, Sawist thou not, boy, how Silver made it good And brave attendants near him when he wakes, At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault ?

Would not the beggar then forget himself ? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot 1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my choose.

2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when He cried upon it at the merest loss.

he wak'd. And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless Trust me, I take him for the better dog.



Then take him up, and manage well the jest. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,

And give them friendly welcome every one : And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; Let them want nothing that my house affords. Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters,

[Ereunt Servant and Player And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, Procure me music ready when he wakes,

[ To a Servar To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;

And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady : And if he chance to speak, be ready straight, That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chambe And, with a low submissive reverence,

And call him madam, do him obeisance : Say,—What is it your honour will command ? Tell him from me, as he will win my love, Let one attend him with a silver bason,

He bear himself with honourable action, l'ull of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers ; Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,

Unto their lords by them accomplished: And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your Such duty to the drunkard let him do, hands?

With soft low tongue, and lowly courtesy ; Some one be ready with a costly suit,

And say,—What is't your bonour will command, And ask him what apparel he will wear;

Wherein your lady, and your humble wife Another tell him of his hounds and horse,

May show her duty, and make known her love ? And that his lady mourns at his disease.

And then, with kind embracements, tempting kisses, Persuade him, that he hath been lunatic;

And with declining head into his bosom, And, when he says he is,-say, that he dreams, Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd For he is nothing but a mighty lord.

To see her noble lord restor'd to health, This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs :

Who for this seven years hath esteemed him It will be pastime passing excellent,

No better then a poor and loathsome beggar. If it be husbanded with modesty.

And if the boy have not a woman's gift, 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we will play our To rain a shower of commanded tears, part,

An onion will do well for such a shift, As he shall think, by our true diligence,

Which, in a napkin being close convey'd, lle is no less than what we say he is.

Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him, See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst : And each one to his office when he wakes.

Anon I'll give thee more instructions. (Sly is borne out. A trumpet sounds.

[Erit Serrant. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds : I know, the boy will well usurp the grace,

[Exit Servant. Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman: Belike, some noble gentleman, that means,

I long to hear him call the drunkard husband, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. And how my men will stay themselves from laughter,

When they do homage to this simple peasant.
Re-enter Servant.

I'll in to counsel them : haply, my presence
How now ? who is it?

May well abate the over-merry spleen, Serv.

An it please your honour, Which otherwise would grow into extremes. Players that offer service to your lordship.

[Ereunt Lord. Bid them come near.

SCENE II.-A Bedchamber in the Lord's House.
Enter Players.
Now, fellows, you are welcome.

Sly is discovered, with Attendants ; some with apPlayers. We thank your honour.

parel, others with bason, ewer, and appurtenances. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

Enter Lord, dressed like a Servant. 2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. duty.

i Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup Lord. With all my heart.—This fellow I re

of sack? member,

2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son :

conserves ? 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well. 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear toI have forgot your name; but, sure, that part

day? Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform’d.

Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me honour, 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour nor lordship: I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if

you give me any conserves, give me conserves of Lord. 'Tis very true : thou didst it excellent. beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I Well, you are come to me in happy time,

have no more doublets than backs, no more stockThe rather for I have some sport in hand,

ings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay,
Wherein your cunning can assist me much. sometime, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as
There is a lord will hear you play to-night ; my toes look through the overleather.
But I am doubtful of your modesties,

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your
Lest, over-eyeing of his odd behaviour,

honour ! (For yet his honour never heard a play,)

0! that a mighty man, of such descent, You break into some merry passion,

Of such possessions, and so high esteem, And so offend him ; for I tell you, sirs,

Should be infused with so foul a spirit ! If you should smile he grows impatient.

Sly. What! would you make me mad? Am i Play. Fear not, my lord : we can contain our not | Christopher Sly, old Sly's son, of Burtonselves,

heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a cardWere he the veriest antic in the world.

maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by


present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat alewife 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 Christendomn. What! I am not bestraught. Here's

1 Serv. O! this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Serr. O! this it is that makes your servants

droop. Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun

your house,

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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.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck :
Wilt thou have music ? hark! Apollo plays,

And twenty caged nightingales do sing :
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch,

Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On parpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. ·
Say thou wilt walk, we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride, thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
1 Sere. 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,
And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll show thee lo as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surpris’d,
As lively painted as the deed was done.
3 Serv. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny

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 Serr. And, till the tears that she hath shed for

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 Christopher 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 an ewer, bason, and napkin.
0, how we joy to see your wit restorid !
O, that once more you knew but what you are !
These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
Or, when you wak’d, so wak'd as if you slept.
Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly

But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Serv. 0! 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 Ilacket.

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 reckond up,—
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 amen ls


Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none.

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