Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. Phe. [To SYLVIUS.] I will not eat my word, now thou Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. [art mine; Enter JAQUES DE BOIS. Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, That bring these tidings to this fair assembly- Men of great worth resorted to this forest, Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, Duke S. Welcome, young man; Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: That have endured shrewd days and nights with us, Play, music; and you, brides and bridegrooms all, And thrown into neglect the pompous court? Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites You [To OLIVER] to your land, and love, and great allies: You [To SYLVIUS] to a long and well deserved bed:And you [To TOUCHSTONE] to wrangling; for thy loving voyage Is but for two months victuall'd.-So to your pleasures: Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, And we do trust they'll end in true delights. [4 dance. EPILOGUE. Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that "good wine needs no bush," 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor can insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make my curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker, Suitors to BIANCA TRANIO, BIONDELLO, Servants to LUCENTIO. 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 SCENE,-Sometimes in PADUA; and sometimes in PETRUCHIO'S House in the Country. CHARACTERS IN THE INDUCTION To the original Play of "The Taming of a Shrew," entered on the Stationers books in 1594, and printed in quarto in 1607. A Lord, &c. SLY. AURELIUS, his Son, FERANDO, Suitors to the Daughters of ALPHONSUS. POLIDOR, VALERIA, Servant to AURELIUS. SANDER, Servant to FERANDO. PHYLOTUS, a Merchant, who personates the Duke. KATE, EMELIA, Daughters to ALPHONSUS. Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to FERANDO and ALPHONSUS. SCENE, ATHENS; and sometimes FERANDO's Country House. INDUCTION. SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath. Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith. 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 Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd; [hounds: 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; Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, And brave attendants near him when he wakes, 1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when h waked. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: 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; And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your hands! If it be husbanded with modesty. 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? Enter Players. 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 drty. 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 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, 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-eyeing 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. iPlay. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antic in the world. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them triendly 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. Tell him from me, (as he will win my love,) He bear himself with honourable action, May shew 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 twice seven years, hath esteem'd him 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. [Exit Serv. See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst; 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? 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 honour! O, that a mighty man, of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit! Sly. What, would you make me mad? 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 lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not bestraught. Here's 1 Serv 0, this it is that makes your lady mourn. Even as the waving sedges play with wind. 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: And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. 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, She was the fairest creature in the world; And yet she is inferior to none. 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 Christophero Sly.- Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? [Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restored! O, that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you waked, so waked as if you slept. Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? 1 Serv. O yes, my lord; but very idle words;- And say you would present her at the leet, 3 Serv. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor no such Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! 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 Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd, and Above some fifteen year and more. [slept 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 charged, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed: 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 amendment, Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood, Come, Madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger. [They sit down. АСТ І. SCENE I.-PADUA. A public Place, Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO. Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Vincentio his son, brought up in Florence, Glad that you thus continue your resolve, Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you: In brief, Sir, study what you most affect. Luc Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. It, 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. Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside. Bap. Gentlemen, impórtune me no further, For how I firmly am resolved you know; That is,-not to bestow my youngest daughter Kath. I' faith, Sir, you shall never need to fear; I wis, it is not half way to her heart: But, if it were, doubt not her care should be Hor. From all such devils, good Lord deliver us! Tra. Hush, master, here is some good pastime toward; That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward. Luc. But in the other's silence I do see Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety. Peace, Tranio. Tra. Well said, master: mum! and gaze your fill Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good What I have said,-Bianca, get you in; And let it not displease thee, good Bianca; For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl. Kath. A pretty peat! 'tis best Put finger in the eye,-an she knew why. Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.- Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak. Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? Gre. Why, will you mew her up, Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell, [Aside. And make her bear the penance of her tongue? Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolved.Go in, Bianca. [Exit BIANCA. And for I know she taketh most delight I will be very kind, and liberal To mine own children in good bringing-up; [Exit. Kath. Why, and I trust I may go too; may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike, I knew not what to take, and what to leave? Ha! [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here is none will hold you.-Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell;-yet for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man, to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father. Hor. So will I, signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love,-to labour and effect one thing specially. Gre. What's that, I pray? Hor. Marry, Sir, to get a husband for her sister. Gre. A husband! a devil. Hor. I say, a husband. Gre. I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell? Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition, to be whipped at the high-cross every morning. till Hor. Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained, by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to 't afresh. Sweet Bianca!-Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, signior Gremio? Gre. I am agreed: and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. [Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO. I never thought it possible, or likely; And now in plainness do confess to thee,- Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now; If love have touch'd you, naught remains but so,- Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound. Tra Master, you look'd so longly on the maid, That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, Tra. Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her sister Began to scold, and raise up such a storm, That mortal ears might hardly endure the din? Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance. I pray, awake, Sir; if you love the maid, Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands :- To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her? Tra. Master, for my hand, Both our inventions meet and jump in one. Luc. Tell me thine first. Tra. You will be schoolmaster, And undertake the teaching of the maid: That's your device. Luc. It is may it be done? Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your part, And be in Padua here Vincentio's son? Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; Visit his countrymen, and banquet them? Luc Basta; content thee; for I have it full. We have not yet been seen in any house; Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa. In brief, then, Sir, sith it your pleasure is, (For so your father charged me at our parting; "Be serviceable to my son," quoth he," Although, I think, 'twas in another sense,) I am content to be Lucentio, Because so well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: Enter BIONDELLO. Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been? Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life, I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried: Bion. I, Sir! ne'er a whit. Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth; Tranio is changed into Lucentio. Bion. The better for him; would I were so too! You use your manners discreetly in all kind of com- One thing more rests, that thyself execute;- 1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; comes there any more of it? Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, Madam lady; would 'twere done! SCENE II.-The same. Before HORTENSIO'S House. Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave, Gru Knock, Sir! whom should I knock? is there any man has rebused your worship? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. Gru. Knock you here, Sir? why, Sir, what am I, Sir, that I should knock you here, Sir? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate, And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate. Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome: I should knock And then I know after who comes by the worst. [you first, Pet. Will it not be? 'Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it; I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it. [He wrings GRUMIO by the ears. Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you: sirrah! villain! Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core bene trovato, may I say. Hor. Alla nostra casa bene venuto, Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he 'leges in Latin.If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, -Look you, Sir,-he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, Sir: well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, (for aught I see,) two and thirty,-a pip out? Whom, would to God, I had well knock'd at first, Pet. A senseless villain!-Good Hortensio, [here, I bade the rascal knock upon your gate, Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the |