There's a quart d ecu for you: Let the justices Not one word more of the consumed time. make you and fortune friends; I am for other bu-Let's take the instant by the forward top;a siness. 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 drum? 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 For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, Our own love waking cries to see what's done, Gentlemen, Guards, &c. King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Count. 'Tis past, my liege: My honour'd lady, Laf. Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive; King. Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill The incensing relicks of it: let him approach, Gent. I shall, my liege. [Exit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke ? Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high[sent me, King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters That set him high in fame. Laf. ness. Enter Bertram. He looks well on't. King. I am not a day of season, Ber. Dear sovereign, pardon to me. While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. Count. Which better than the first, O dear hea- Or, ere they meet in me, O nature, cease! name I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it Laf. King. And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. - 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 sedueer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. Diana Capulet. Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him for this, I'll none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: Go, speedily, and bring again the count. [Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. 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, Yet you desire to marry. What woman's that? Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and Diana. Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet; My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy. King. Come hither, count; Do you know these women? Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them: Do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.. wife? Dia. If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and that is mine; You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; You give away myself, which is known mine; For I by vow am so embodied yours, Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your ho- King. What say 'st thou to her? Ber. She's impudent, my lord; And was a common gamester to the camp. Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, He might have bought me at a common price : Do not believe him: O, behold this ring, Whose high respect, and rich validity, Did lack a parallel; yet for all that, He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, If I be one. 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. Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles. Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. King, Find him, and bring him hither. Ber. What of him? He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd, Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth: Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter, That will speak any thing? King. She hath that ring of yours. Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I lik'd her, And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: She knew her distance, and did angle for me, Madding my eagerness with her restraint, As all impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, Her insuit coming with her modern grace, Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; And I had that which any inferior might At market-price have bought. Dia. I must be patient; You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife, May justly diet me. I pray you yet, (Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,) Send for your ring, I will return it home, And give me mine again. Ber. I have it not. King. What ring was yours, I pray you? Dia. Sir, much like [late. The same upon your finger. Dia. I have spoke the truth. Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. Dia. Ay, my lord. King. Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master, (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) By him, and by this woman here, what know you? orator. King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal sir; King. Ber. Re-enter Widow, with Helena. Is there no exorcist Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. Is't real, that I see? King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st ? Hel. No, my good lord; Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go be-Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, tween them, as I said; but more than that, he The name, and not the thing. loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and Both, both; 0, pardon! talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this know not what: yet I was in that credit with maid, them at that time, that I knew of their going to found you wond'rous kind. There is your ring, bed; and of other motions, as promising her mar-And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, riage, and things that would derive me ill will to When from my finger you can get this ring, speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. And are by me with child, &c.-This is done: King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? canst say they are married: But thou art too fine Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.clearly, This ring, you say, was yours? Dia. Ay, my good lord. Dia. Dia. King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. know. I I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, 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 To make the even truth in pleasure flow :- [To Diana. (Advancing.) [Flourish SCENE,-sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country. INDUCTION. SCENE 1.Before an Alehouse on a Heath. Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith. 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. Then take him up, and manage well the jest :- hands? Some one be ready with a costly suit, Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my If it be husbanded with modesty. hounds: Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd, 1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, 1 Hun. I will, my lord. Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? doth he breathe ? See, 2 Hun. 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 Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!! 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; How now? who is it? Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. We thank your honour. Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remem- 1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. Lord. 'Tis very true;-thou didst it excellent. Wherein your cunning can assist me much. I Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antick in the world. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery. And with declining head into his bosom,- See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst ; 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 Attend. ants; some with apparel, others with hason, 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 ? conserves? 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. 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; And twenty caged nightingales do sing: 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 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 surpriz'd, 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: So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. 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? I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:-- 2 Serv. Will it please your honour taste of these [to-day? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honour, nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; [Servants present an erver, bason, and napkin, and if you give me any conserves, give me con-0, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! serves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll O, that once more you knew but what you are! wear for I have no more doublets than backs, no These fifteen years you have been in a dream; more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept. feet; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. such shoes as my toes look through the overlea- But did I never speak of all that time? ther. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour ! O, that a mighty man of such descent, 1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words :- Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket |