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orator.

Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage?
Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st?
Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go be-
tween 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.

Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty || Beguiles the truer 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; O, 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?

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? Dia. Ay, my good lord. Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon: King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?-Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, King. Who lent it you? I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, Dia. It was not lent me neither. they are scurvy ones. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. King. 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.

King. Take her away.
Dia.
I'll put in bail, my liege.
King. I think thee now some common customer.2
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd himn all this
while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty;
He knows, I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
I'l swear, I am a maid, and he knows not.
Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
[Pointing to Lafeu.
King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with

her.

sir;

Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
[Exit Widow.
The jeweller, that owes 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 quit him:
He knows himself, my bed he hath defil'd;
And at that time he got his wife with child:
Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick;
So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick :
And now behold the meaning.

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King. Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow :-
If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
[To Diana.
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower:
For I can guess, that, by the honest aid,
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.—
Of that, and all the progress, more and less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
[Flourish.

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This play has many delightful scenes, though not sufficiently probable; and some happy characters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare.

I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate: when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness.

The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time. JOHNSON.

(5) i. e. Hear us without interruption, and take our parts, that is, support and defend us.

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Scene, sometimes in Padua, and sometimes in Scene, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's CounPetruchio's House in the Country.

try House.

INDUCTION.

SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter Hostess and Sly.
Sly.

I'LL pheesel 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,2 let the|| world slide: Sessa !3

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst 24

Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy;Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.5

Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough.6 [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. (2) Few words.

(1) Beat or knock.

(3) Be quiet. (4) Broke.

(5) This line and the scrap of Spanish is used in burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy.

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 emboss'd,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.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

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!

(6) An officer whose authority equals a constable. (7) Bitch. (8) Strained.

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 fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?
1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot
choose.

2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy.

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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 music 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 bason,
Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,2
And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your

hands?

Some one be ready with a costly suit,
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 lunatic;
And, when he says he is,-say, that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly,3 gentle sirs;

It will be pastime passing excellent,

If it be husbanded with modesty.4

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. 1 Play. 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 friendly 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.
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's cham-
ber,

And call him-madam, do him obeisance,
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 steemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our And if the boy have not a woman's gift,

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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.

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.

||

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.
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,5 my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II-A Bedchamber in the Lord's house. Sly is discovered in a rich nightgown, with at tendants; some with apparel, others with bason, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter Lord, dressed like a Servant.

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Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honour, lordship: I never drank sack in my life; and you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for (5) Perhaps.

(4) Moderation.

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 overleather.

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 pedler, 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;
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,
[Music.

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.
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 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:
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
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.
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age.

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And not a tinker, nor Christophero 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.
O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d!
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,2 a goodly

nap.

But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Serv. O, 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,3
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
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 reckon'd 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 amends!
All. Amen.

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-

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Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd, and slept

Above some fifteen year and more.

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 charg'd,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I should yet absent me from your bed:

1 Ser. And, till the tears that she hath shed for I hope, this reason stands for my excuse.

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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,

Are come to play a pleasant comedy,
For so your doctors hold it very meet;
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,

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