Alphonsus.

house.

INDUCTION.

SCENE 1-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter HOSTESS and SLY.

Sly. ' pheese 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 ‡!

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

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, Pil 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 emboss'd **,
And couple Clouder 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.
Iun. 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,

lies!

Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.-
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
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 waked.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worth-less 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 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*,
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, gentle Sirs;
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty *.

1 Han. 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?
Ser. 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. Lard. 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.

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-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 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 chamber, 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 observed in noble ladies Lato their lords, by them accomplish'd: Sich 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 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 watry 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, Vice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman: Ing to hear him call the drunkard, husband; And how my men will stay themselves from laughter,

When they do homage to this simple peasant.

• Moderation.

SCENE II.—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 God'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?

3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear today?

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 a man? 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; it she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'st 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
Or 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 shail make the welk 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 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.
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord :
Thou hast a lady far inore beautiful
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.

Sty. Am I a lord? And have I such a lady?

• Distracted.

quarts:

Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Sty. 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 naines 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?

Sty. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife?

Page. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her? Syl. 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?
Lord. Madam.

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 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 Madam undress you, and come now to bed.

alone.

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:
I hope, this reason stands for my excuse.

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.

[ment,

Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendAre come to play a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet; Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood, And melancholy is the nurse 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 commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, houshold stuff?

Page. It is a kind of history.

Sty. Well, we'll sec't: come, madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be (They sit down.

younger.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Padua.-A publie Place.
Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.
Luc. Tranio, since for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,-
I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy,
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,
Most trusty servant, well approved in all;
Here let us breathe, and happily institute
A course of learning, and ingenious studies,
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being, and my father first,
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii,

Vincentio, his son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceived,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds :
And, therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue 'specially to be achieved.
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 seeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Mi perdonate +, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;
Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To such the sweets of sweet philosophy.
| Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral discipline.
Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or to devote to Aristotle's checks 1,
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured:
Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practice rhetoric in your common talk;
Music and poesy use, to quicken you;
The mathematics, and the metaphysics,
Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you :
No profit grows, where is no pleasure taʼen;
In brief, Sir, study what you most affect.
Luc. Gramercies, Trauio, well dost thou advise.
If, 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.
But stay awhile: What company is this?

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, Before I have a husband for the elder: If either of you both love Katharina, 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 Hortensio, will you any wife?

Kath. I pray you, Sir, [To Bap.] is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Hor. Mates, maid! Now mean you that ! No mates

for you,

Unless you were of gentler milder mould.

Kath. P'faith, Sir, you shall never need to fear; I wist it is not half way to her heart: But, if it were, doubt not, her care should be To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool, And paint your face, and use you like a fool. Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! Gre. And to me too, good Lord! {ward: Tra. Hush, master! Here is some good pastime to That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward. Luc. But in the other's silence I do sec 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.

Small piece of water.

* Harsh rules. Think.

↑ Pardon me. A bait or decoy. ¶ Pet.

Gre. Why will you mew her up, Staior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,

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
In music, instruments, and poetry,

Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth.-If you, Hortensio,
Or signior Gremio, you,-know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal

To mine own children in good bringing-up;
And so farewell. Katharina you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit.
Kath. Why, and I trust, may go too, may I not?
What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, be-
like, 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
ough on both sides. Farewell:-Yet, for the love
I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light
en a fit man, to teach her that wherein she delights,
1 will wish him to her father.

Her. So will I, signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd 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:-Think'st 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 whipp'd at the high-cross every morning.

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 maintain'd,-till 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. Tra. [Advancing.] I pray, Sir, tell me,-Is it pos

sible

That love should of a sudden take such hold?
Lue. O Tranio, till I found it to be true,

I never thought it possible, or likely;
But see! While idly I stood looking on,
I found the effect of love in idleness:
And now in plainness do confess to thee,-
That art to me as secret, and as dear,
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was,-
Trano, I baru, 1 pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl:
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now;
Afection is not rated ¶ from the heart:
If love have touch'd you, nought remains but to,-
Redime te captum quảm queas minimo.

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, Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all. Luc. O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face, Such as the daughter of Agenor bad, That made great love to humble him to her hand, When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand. 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?
Luc. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air;
Sacred, and sweet, was all I saw in her.

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:-

Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,
That, till the father rid his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home;
And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
Because she shall not be annoy'd with suitors.
Luc. Ay, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
But art thou not advised, he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
Tra. Ay, marry, am I Sir; and now 'tis plotted
Luc. I have it, Tranio.

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;.
Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces,
For man, or master: then it follows thus ;-
Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
Keep house, and port §, and servants, as I should:
I will some other be; some Fiorentine,
Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa.-
'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so:-Tranio, at once
Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak :
When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits.
In brief then, Sir, sith it your pleasure is,
And I am tied to be obedient;
(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 coutent to be Lucentio,
Because so well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.

Enter BIONDELLO.

Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been?

Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where

are you?

Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes?
Or you stolen his? Or both? Pray, what's the news?
Luc. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
And I for my escape have put on his;
For in a quarrel, since I came ashore,

I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried¶:
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life:
You understand me?

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! Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next wish after,