That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. Between the acres of the rye, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In the spring time, &c. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; For love is crowned with the prime, In the spring time, &c. Touch. Truly, young gentleman, though| there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable. 1 Page. You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend your voices !-Come, Audrey. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver, and Celia. If she refuse me :-and from hence I go, [Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. him, Jaq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark.-[Enter Touchstone and Audrey.] - Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all! Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome: have so often met in the forest: he hath been this is the motley-minded gentleman, that I a courtier, he swears. Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that quarrel was upon the seventh cause. the boy Can do all this that he hath promised? Orl. I sometimes do believe, and some times do not; [fear. As those that fear they hope, and know they Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe. Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged :[Rosalind, [To the Duke. You say, if I bring in your You will bestow her on Orlando here? Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. Jaq. How seventh cause ?-Good my lord, like this fellow. Duke S. I like him very well. Touch. God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds and blood breaks:- a poor virgin, sir, an illfavoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house, as your pearl in your foul oyster. [sententious. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. Jag. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause? Ros. [To Orlando.] And you say, you will have her when I bring her? [king. Orl. That would I, were 1 of all kingdoms Ros. [To Phebe.] You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? [after. Phe. That will I, should I die the hour Ros. But if you do refuse to marry me, Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed :You'll give yourself to this most faithful bear your body more seeming, Audrey :-as Phe. So is the bargain. [shepherd? thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain Ros. [To Silvius.] You say, that you'll have courtier's beard: he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the Sil. Though to have her and death were mind it was: this is called the Retort courtboth one thing. [ter even. eous. If I sent him word again, it was not Ros. I have promis'd to make all this mat- well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to Keep you your word, O duke, to give your please himself: this is called the Quip modest. daughter;If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :-judgment: this is called the Reply churlish. Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd :-I spake not true: this is called the Reproof Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her, I valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he Phebe, if she will? would say, I lie: this is called the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct. Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut? Touch. I durst go no farther than the Lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie direct; and so we measured swords, and parted. [degrees of the lie? Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the Touch. O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous; the second, the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the seventh, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the Lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an "if." I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an "if," as "If you said so, then I said so;" and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your "if" is the only peace-maker; much virtue in "if." Jag. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? Still music. Enter Hymen, leading Rosa- Good duke, receive thy daughter: Ros. [To Duke S.] To you I give myself, Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Phe. If sight and shape be true, [Rosalind. Why then, my love adieu! Ros. [To Duke S.] I'll have no father, if you be not he: Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. I Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a am the second son of old Sir Rowland, Welcome, young man ; [not he-Shall share the good of our returned fortune, [To Orlando.] I'll have no husband, if you be [To Phebe.] Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. Play, music!-and you, brides and bridegrooms all, [fall. faith doth merit : [To Oliver.] You to your land, and love, and great allies: [To Silvius.] You to a long and well deserved [To Touchstone.] And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage [To Duke S.] You to your former honour I epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome, than bequeath; [it :- -to see the lord the prologue. If it be true that Your patience, and your virtue, well deserve good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good [To Orlando.] You to a love, that your true play needs no epilogue: yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What [bed a case am I in, then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished pleasures: like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become Is but for two months victual'd.-So, to your me my way is, to conjure you and I'll begin I am for other than for dancing measures. with the women. I charge you, O women, Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay. for the love you hear to men, to like as much of this play as please you and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not; and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make [Exeunt. Jaq. To see no pastime, I-what you would have, I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, As we do trust they'll end, in true delights, EPILOGUE. Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the court'sy, bid me farewell. Baptista, a rich Gentleman of Padua. Hortensio, suitors to Bianca. servants to Lucentio. servants to Petruchio. Pedant, set up to personate Vincentio. Katharina, the Shrew, daughters to Baptista. Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending SCENE, Sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country. INDUCTION. SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath. Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith. Sly. Y'are a baggage: the Slys 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? Sly. No, not a denier. Go by, Saint 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 Trust me, I take him for the better dog. 1 Hun. I will, my lord. Lord. [Sees Sly. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: were he not This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Re-enter Servant. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part 1 Play. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him when he wakes, [lent.Would not the beggar then forget himself? Lord. 'Tis very true: thou didst it excel1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot Well, you are come to me in happy time; choose. [when he wak'd. The rather for I have some sport in hand, 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him Wherein your cunning can assist me much. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worth-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,) pic-You break into some merry passion, And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient. i Play. Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves, less fancy. tures: Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters, Procure me music ready when he wakes, Some one be ready with a costly suit, 1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we will Were he the veriest antick 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. |[To a Servant.] Širrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: And call him madam, do him obeisance. Wherein your lady and your humble wife As he shall think, by our true diligence, Which, in a napkin being close convey'd, When they do homage to this simple peasant. SCENE II.-A bedchamber in the Lord's Sly is discovered in a rich night-gown, with small ale. Sly. [Waking.] For God's sake, a pot of [cup of sack? 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt? As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. Adonis painted by a running brook, Even as the waving sedges play with wind. 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me honour, nor lordship: I ne'er 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, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather. [honour! Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your O, that a mighty man, of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit! 3 Serv. Or Daphne roaming through a Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? Sly. What would you make me mad? Or do I dream, or have I dream'd till now? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son, of I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak; Burton-heath; by birth a pedlar, by education I smell sweet savours; and I feel soft things :a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed; and now by present profession a tinker? Ask And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly. Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; she know me not: if she say I am not four- And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. teen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. your hands? What! I am not bestraught: here's— mourn. 1 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. ment, And banish hence these abject lowly dreams. [Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin. goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? I Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words: For though you lay here in this goodly chamber, |