The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

King. All is whole; Not one word more of the consumed time. Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals ere we can effect them: You remember The daughter of this lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first

I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it came, [self,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom my-
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.
Well excus'd:

King. That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away

From the great compt: But love, that comes too Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, [late, To the great sender turns a sour offence, Crying, That's good that's gone: our rash faults Make trivial price of serious things we have, Not knowing them, until we know their grave: Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust: Our own love waking cries to see what's done, While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: The main consents are had; and here we'll stay To see our widower's second marriage-day. Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!

Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's

I stood ingag'd1: but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King.
Plutus himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,2
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 enforce-
ment
[surety,
You got it from her: she call'd the saints to
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

honour;

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me,
Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove
That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove so ;-
And yet I know not:-thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring. Take him away.-
[Guards seize Bertram.

My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with
We'll sift this matter further.
[him ;-
If you shall prove
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.

Ber.

[Exit Bertram, guarded. 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.

to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations 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 flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPULET.

Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him4: 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.

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters

to you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lord-
ship,

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

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
Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife:
That ring's a thousand proofs.
King.

Methought, you said,

Now, justice on the doers! You saw one here in court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
Enter Bertram, guarded.
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 de-
bosh'd1;
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.
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's2 course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her insuits coming with her modern grace1;
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.
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.

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
wife?

Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
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,

That she, which marries you, must marry me,
Either both, or none.

Laf. [To Bertram.] Your reputation 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 honour,
Than for to think that I would sink it here.

King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them
ill to friend,

Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your honour,

Than in my thought it lies!

Dia.

Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He had my honour.
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,

1 Dia.

Dia.

Ber.
I have it not.
King. What ring was yours, I pray you?
Dia.
Sir, much like

The same upon your finger.
King. Know you this ring? this ring was his

of late.

Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.
K. The story then goes false, you threw it him,
Out of a casement.
Dia.

I have spoke the truth.
Enter Parolles.

Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. K. You boggle shrewdly,5 every feather starts you.

Is this the man you speak of?

Dia.

Ay, my lord.

K. 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?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable 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?
King. How, I pray you?

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. K. 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 aside. -This ring, you say, was yours? Ay, my good lord.

Dia. 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. K. 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.

I'll never tell you.

K. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her.
Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
sir;
[Exit Widow.

The jeweller, that owes1 the ring, is sent for,
And he shall surety me.
But for this lord,

Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm'd me, here I qui him:

He thinks himself, my bed he hath defil'd; But 'twas his wife who then became with child: And now behold the meaning.

Re-enter Widow, with Helena.

King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the true 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; 0, 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:-[To Parolles.] Good Tom Drum, 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:[To Diana.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,

Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy

dower;

A LORD.

Taming of the Shrew.

Persons Represented.

CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker. Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and other Servants attending on the Lord.

TRANIO,

Persons BIONDELLO,

in the

Induc-
tion.

BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of Padua.
VINCENTIO, an old Gentleman of Pisa.
LUCENTIO, Son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
PETRUCHIO, a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor
to Katharina.

GREMIO,
HORTENSIO,

Suitors to Bianca.

Servants to Lucentio.

GRUMIO, Servants to Petruchio.
CURTIS,

PEDANT, an old Fellow set up to personate
Vincentio.

KATHARINA, the Shrew, Daughters toBaptista.
BIANCA, her Sister,
Widow.

Tailor, Haberdasher, und Servants attending
on Baptista and Petruchio.

SCENE.-Sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country.

INDUCTION.1

SCENE I.-BEFORE AN ALEHOUSE ON A HEATH.
Enter Hostess and Sly.

Sly. I'll pheeze 2 you in faith.
Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

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!4

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

Sly. No, not a denier : 5 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 embossed, 8-
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;
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog,

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 Hun. I will, my lord.

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 lies!

Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine
image!

Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his
A most delicious banquet by his bed, [fingers,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?
1 Hun. Believe ine, lord, I think he cannot
choose.
[he wak'd.

2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless

fancy.

Then take him up, and manage well the jest:-
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters,

And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me musick ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And, with a low submissive reverence,
Say,-What is it your honour will command?
Let one attend him with a silver bazon,
Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;

Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your
Some one be ready with a costly suit, [hands?
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
Persuade him that he hath been lunatick;
And, when he says he is,-say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;

doth he breathe?

1 Introduction. 4 Be quiet.

2 Beat.

8 Few words.

7 Bitch.

5 Small French coin. 8 Strained.

6 Constable.

As he shall think, by our true diligence,
He is no less than what we say he is.

L. 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?

Serv.
An it please your honour,
Players that offer service to your lordship.
Lord. Bid them come near:-

Enter Players.

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.
[member,

Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I re-
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.

1P.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 modesties1;
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 our-
Were he the veriest antick in the world. [selves,
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.
[To a Servant.] Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew
my page,

An onion will do well for such a shift;
Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst ;
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
laughter,

When they do homage to this simple peasant,
I'll in to counsel them: haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,1
Which otherwise would go into extremes.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

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 heaven'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?
[day?

3 S. What raiment will your honour wear toSly. I am Christopher 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, [honour, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught:2

Here's

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 And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she That done, conduct him to the drunkard's cham-say I am not fourteen pence on the score for And call him-madam, do him obeisance, [ber, Tell him from me (as he will win my love), He bear himself with honourable action, Such as he hath observ'd 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 honour will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May show 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 restor❜d to health,
Who, for twice seven years, hath esteemed 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,
1 Behaviour.

1 S. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.
2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants
droop.
[your house,
Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun
As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth;
Call home thyancient 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 musick? hark! Apollo plays,
[Musick.

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 purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.

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