Or when you wak'd, you wak'd as if you flept.
Sly. These fifteen Years! by my Fay, a goodly Nap:
But did I never speak of all that time?

I Man. Oh yes, my Lord, but very idle Words.
For tho' you lay here in this goodly Chamber,
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of Door,
And rail'd upon the Hoftefs of the House,
And fay you would prefent her at the Leet,
Because the brought Stone Jugs, and no feal'd Quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly. Ay, the Woman's Maid of the Houfe,

3 Man. Why Sir, you know no Houfe, nor no fuch Maid,
Nor no fuch Men as you have reckon❜d up,
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell,

And twenty more fuch Names and Men as thefe,
Which never were, nor no Man' ever faw.

Sly. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends.
All. Amen.

Enter Lady with Attendants.

Sly. I thank thee, thou shalt not lose by it.
Lady. How fares my noble Lord?

Sly. Marry I fare well, for here is Cheer enough.
Where is my Wife?

Lady. 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 good Man.

Lady. My Husband and my Lord, my Lord and Husband, I am your Wife in all Obedience,

Sly. I know it well, what muft I call her?

Lord. Madam.

Sly. Alce Madam, or Joan Madam?

Lord. Madam, and nothing elfe, fo Lords call Ladies.
Sly. Madam Wife, they fay that I have dream'd,
And flept above fome fifteen Years and more.
Lady. Ay, and the Time feems 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.
P 3

Lady.

Lady. Thrice noble Lord, let me entreat of you,
To pardon me yet for a Night or two:
Or if not fo, until the Sun be fet;

For your Phyficians have exprefly charg'd,
In Peril to incur your former Malady,
That I should yet abfent me from your Bed;
I hope this Reafon ftands for my Excufe.

Sly. Ay, it ftands fo that I may hardly tarry fo long;
But I would be loath to fall into my Dream again: I will
therefore tarry in defpight of the Flesh and the Blood.
Enter a Messenger.

Meff. Your Honour's Players, hearing your Amendment, Are come to play a pleasant Comedy;

For fo your Doctors hold it very meet,

Seeing fo much Sadnefs hath congeal'd your Blood,
And Melancholly is the Nurfe of Frenzy,
Therefore they thought it good you hear a Play,
And frame your Mind to Mirth and Merriment,
Which bars a thousand Harms, and lengthens Life.

Sly. Marry I will, let them play, it is not a Comonty, a Christmas Gambold, or a tumbling Trick?

Lady. No, my good Lord, it is more pleasing Stuff.
Sly. What, Houfhold Stuff?

Lady. It is a kind of History.

Sly. Well, we'll fee't:

Come, Madam Wife, fit by my Side,

And let the World flip, we fhall ne'er be Younger.
Flourish. Enter Lucentio and Tranio.

Luc. Tranio, fince for the great Defire I had
To fee fair Padua, Nursery of Arts,

I am arriv'd for fruitful Lumbardy,
The pleasant Garden of great Italy,

And by my Father's Love and Leave am arm'd
With his good Will, and thy good Company.
Moft trufty Servant well approv'd in all,
Here let us breathe, and happly institute
A Course of Learning, and ingenious Studies.
Pifa, renowned for grave Citizens,

Gave me my Being, and my Father first

A Merchant of great Traffick through the World:
Vincentio's come of the Bentivolii,

Vincentio's

Vincentio's Son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become to ferve all Hopes conceiv'd
To deck his Fortune with his virtuous Deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy,
Virtue and that part of Philofophy

Will I apply to, that treats of Happiness,
By Virtue specially to be atchiev❜d.
Tell me thy Mind, for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
A shallow Plash to plunge him in the Deep,
And with Satiety feeks to quench his Thirst.
Tra. Me Pardonato, gentle Master mine,
I am in all affected as your felf;

Glad that you thus continue your Resolve,
To fuck the Sweets of fweet Philosophy:
Only, good Mafter, while we do admire
This Virtue, and this moral Discipline,
Let's be no Stoicks, nor no Stocks, I pray;
Or fo devote to Ariftotle's Checks,
As Ovid be an Outcast quite abjur'd.

Talk Logick with Acquaintance that you have,
And practice Rhetorick in your common Talk;
Mufick and Poefie use to quicken you,
The Mathematicks, and the Metaphyficks,
Fall to them as you find your Stomach ferves you:
No Profit grows, where is no Pleasure ta'en:
In brief, Sir, ftudy what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise;

If, Biondello, thou wert come afhore,
We could at once put us in readiness,
And take a Lodging fit to entertain

Such Friends, as time in Padua fhall beget,

But stay a while, what Company is this?

Tra. Mafter, fome Shew to welcome us to Town.

Enter Baptifta with Katharina and Bianca, Gremio, and
Hortenfio. Lucentio and Tranio ftand by.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am refolv'd you know;
That is, not to beftow my youngest Daughter,
Before I have a Husband for the Elder:

If either of you both love Katherina,
Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your Pleasure.
Gre. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me,
There, there, Hortenfio, will you any Wife?
Kath. I pray you, Sir, is it your Will
To make a Stale of me amongst those Mates?
Hor. Mates Maid, how mean you that?
No Mates, for you;

Unless you were of gentler milder Mould.

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 shall be,
To comb your Noddle with a three-legg❜d Stool,
And paint your Face, and ufe you like a Fool.

Hor. From all fuch Devils, good Lord, deliver us,
Gre. And me too, good Lord.

Tra. Hufh'd, Mafter, here's fome good Paftime toward, That Wench is ftark mad, or wonderful froward.

Luc. But in the other's Silence I do fee,

Maid's mild Behaviour and Sobriety.

Peace, Tranio.

Tra. Well faid, Mafter, mum, and gaze your fill.
Bap. Gentlemen, that I may foon make good
What I have faid, Bianca get you in,

And let it not difpleafe thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne'er the lefs, my Girl.

Kath. A pretty Peat, it is best put Finger in the Eye,

And the knew why.

Bian. Sifter, content you in my Discontent. Sir, to your Pleasure humbly I subscribe :

My Books and Inftruments fhall be my Company,

On them to look, and practise by my self.

Luc. Heark, Tranio, thou maift hear Minerva fpeak,
Hor. Signior Baptifta, will you be fo ftrange;

Sorry am I that our good Will effects

Bianca's Grief.

Gre. Why will you mew her up, Signior Baptifta, for this Fiend of Hell,

And make her bear the Penance of her Tongue?

Bap.

Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv❜d :
Go in, Bianca.

And for I know she taketh moft delight
In Mufick, Inftruments, and Poetry,
School-mafters will I keep within my House,
Fit to inftru& her Youth. If you, Hortenfio,
Or Signior Gremio, you know any fuch,
Prefer them hither, for to cunning Men
I will be very kind and liberal,

To mine own Children, in good bringing up,
And fo farewel. Katherina, you may stay,
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
Kath. Why, I truft I may go too, may I not?
What shall I be appointed Hours, as tho',
Belike, I knew not what to take,

And what to leave? Ha!

[Exit.

[Exit.

Gre. You may go to the Devil's Dam: Your Gifts are fo good, here is none will hold you. Our Love is not fo great, Hortenfio, but we may blow our Nails together, and faft it fairly out. Our Cake's Dow on both fides. Farewel; yet for the Love I bear my fweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit Man to teach her that wherein the delights, I will with him to her Father.

Hor. So will I, Signior Gremio: But a word, I pray; tho' the nature of our Quarrel yet never brook'd Parlee, know now upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair Miftrefs, and be happy Rivals in Bianca's Love, to labour and effect one thing 'Ipecially.

Gre. What's that, I pray?

Hor. Marry Sir, to get a Husband for her Sifter.

Gre. A Husband! a Devil.

Hor. I fay a Husband.

Gre. I fay a Devil. Think'ft thou, Hortenfio, tho' her Father be very rich, any Man is so very a Fool to be married to Hell?

Hor. Tufh, Gremio; tho' it pafs your Patience and mine to endure her lewd Alarms, why, Man, there be good Fellows in the World, and a Man could light on them, would take her with all her Faults, and Mony enough.

Gre