CHARACTERS in the INDUCTION. A Lord, before whom the play is | Page, Players, Huntsmen, and Suppos'd to be play'd. Christopher Sly, a drunken Tinker. DRAMATIS BAPTISTA, father to Catha-|| Lucentio, fon to Vincentio, in love with Bianca. other Servants attending on the Lord. PERSON E. Tranio, Biondello, fervants to Lucentia. Petruchio, a gentleman of Verona Bianca, her fifter. a fuitor to Catharina. Gremio, Widow. Hortenfio, pretenders to Bianca. Taylor, Haberdafers; with fer vants attending on Baptista and Petruchio. SCENE, fmetimes in Padua, and femetimes in Petruchio's houfe in the country. Sly. INDU U C I SCENE I. Before an alehoufe on a heath. Enter Hoftefs and Sly. 'LL pheeze you, in faith. Hoft. 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 paucus pallabris *; let the world fide: Seffa. Meaning pocas palabras, Spanish, few words, Mr Theobald. Hoft. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Shy. No, not a deniere: go by, Jeronimo* to thy cold bed, and warm thee. go Hoft. I know my remedy; I muft go fetch the third borough. 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. [Falls afleep. Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with a train. Lord. Huntfman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Leech Merriman, the poor cur is imboft; And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd Brach. I would not lofe the dog for twenty pound. Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my Lord; And twice to-day pick'd out the dulleft fcent: Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen fuch. 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 fleep fo foundly. Lord. O monftrous beaft! how like a fwine he lies! Grim death, how foul and lothfome is thy image! Sirs, I will practife on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, * Go by, Jeronim, was a kind of by-word in the author's days, as appears by is being used in the fame manner by Ben. Johnson, Beaumont, an Flet her, and other writers near that time. a rofe first from a paffage in an old play called Hicronymo, or, The Spanish tragedy. Wrapp'd in fweet cloaths; rings put upon his fingers; And brave attendants near him when he wakes; 1 Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chufe. 2 Hun. It would feem ftrange unto him when he wak'd. Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dream, or worthless fancy. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; Say, What is it your Honour will command? Full of rofe-water,, and beftrew'd with flowers; And fay, Wilt pleafe your Lordship cool your hands? It will be paftime paffing excellent, If it be hufbanded with modefty. 1 Hun. My Lord, I warrant you, we'll play our party As he fhall think, by our true diligence, He is no lefs than what we fay 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. Sound trumpets Sirrah, go fee what trumpet is that founds. Belike, fome noble gentleman that means, [Ex. fervanti. Travelling fome journey, to repofe him here.. B. b. 2 SCENE III. Re-enter Servant. How now? who is it? Ser. An't pleafe your Honour, players Thas offer fervice to your Lordship. Lord. Bid then come near. Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Play. We thank your Honour. Lord. Do you intend to ftay 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 fon : 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman fo well : I have forgot your name; but, fure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd. Sim. 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 fome fport in hand, Wherein your cunning can affift me much. There is a Lord will hear you play to-night; But I am doubtful of your modefties, Left, over-eying of his odd behaviour, (For yet his Honour never heard a play), You break into fome merry paffion, And fo offend him: for I tell you, Sirs, you fhould fmile, he grows inpatient. If Play. Fear not, my Lord, we can contain ourselves; Were he the verieft antic in the world. 2 Play. [to the other.] Go get a difhclout to make clean your shoes, and I'll fpeak for the properties. [Exit Player. My Lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to make our devil roar. Lord. Go, firrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that the houfe affords. [Exit one with the players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And fee him dress'd in all fuits like a lady. That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, See this difpatch'd with all the hafte thou canft; I long to hear him call the drunkard husband; I'll in to counfel them: haply my prefence May well abate the over-merry fpleen, SCE NE IV. Exit Lord Changes to a bedchamber in the Lord's boufe. Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon and ewer, and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord.' Sly. For God's fake, a pot of fmall ale. 1 Serv. Will't pleafe your Lordship drink a cup of fack? |