Son, on my life,

I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
I am sure, I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it:
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain❜d the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
I stood ingag'd:' but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
I could not answer in that course of honor
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,' Hath not in nature's mystery more science, Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know, That you are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety, That she would never put it from her finger, Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, (Where you have never come,) or sent it us Upon her great disaster.

Ber.

She never saw it.

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine

honor;

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me
Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove
That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove so:—
And yet I know not:-thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.-Take him away.—
[Guards seize BERTRAM.
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with him;-
We'll sift this matter further.

Enter a Gentleman.

King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not; Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath for four or five removes,' come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know, Is here attending: her business looks in her With an important visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself.

King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honor's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for jus tice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is DIANA CAPULET. Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him: for this, I'll none of him.

undone.

King. The heavens have thought well on thee,
Lafeu,

To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:-
Go, speedily, and bring again the count.
[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants.
I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch'd.
Count.

Now, justice on the doers!
Enter BERTRAM, guarded.

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to

you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that?
Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA.

Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capulet;
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy.
King. Come hither, count: Do you know these
women?

Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny
But that I know them: Do they charge me further?
Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your
wife?

Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
Dia.

If you shall marry,

You give away this hand, and that is mine;
You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
You give away myself, which is known mine;
For I by vow am so embodied yours,

That she, which marries you, must marry me,
Either both or none.

Laf. Your reputation [To BERTRAM.] comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,

Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness

Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor,
Than for to think that I would sink it here.
King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to
friend,

If I be one.

Count.

He blushes, and 'tis it:

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem

Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife;
That ring's a thousand proofs.
King.

Methought, you said,
You saw one here in court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
Ber.

What of him?

He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth:
Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?
King.

She hath that ring of yours.
Ber. I think she has: certain it is, I liked her,
And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's' course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her insuit coming with her modern grace,2
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market price have bought.
Dia.
I must be patient;
You that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,)
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.

Ber.

I have it not.

(Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off) By him, and by this woman here, what know you?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honorable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
King. How, I pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves

a woman.

King. How is that?

Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:What an equivocal companion is this?

Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty

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 between 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.

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence: therefore stand asideThis ring, you say, was yours?

Dia. Ay, my good lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. King. Who lent it you? Dia. It was not lent me neither. 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.

King. Take her away.

I'll never tell you.

Dia.
I'll put in bail, my liege.
King. I think thee now some common customer.
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him 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'll 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.
Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
[Exit Widow.

sir;

The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord,

. Owns.

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.

Re-enter Widow, with HELENA.

King. Is there no exorcist 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?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon: -Good Tom Drum, [TO PAROLLES.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

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 thy 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.

Advancing.

[Flourish.

The king's a beggar, now the play is done: All is well ended, if this suit be won, That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day: Ours be your patience, then, and yours our parts; Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [Exeunt.

i. e. Take our parts, support and defend us

A LORD.

CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker.) Persons in Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen and the Inducother Servants attending on the Lord.) tion.

BAPTISTA, a rich Gentleman of Padua.
VINCENTIO, an old Gentleman of Pisa.
LUCENTIO, Son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
PETRUCHIO, a Gentleman of Verona, a Suitor to
Katharina.

GREMIO,

HORTENSIO, Suitors to Bianca.

SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.

Enter HOSTESS and SLY.

Sly. I'll 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?

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, 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. 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 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 Hunt. 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.

1 Beat or knock. Few words. Be quiet. This line and scrap of Spanish is used in burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy. An officer whose authority equals that of a constable. • Bitch. * Strained.

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 Hunt. I will, my lord.

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

2 Hunt. 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!
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 Hunt. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 2 Hunt. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless

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 honor 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,

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."

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 esteemed 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 watery eye.

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?
Serv.
An it please your honor,
Players that offer service to your lordship.
Lord. Bid them come near:-
Enter Players.

Now, fellows, you are welcome.

1 Play. We thank your honor.
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 re-
member,

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 honor 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 behavior,
(For yet his honor 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.

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 laugh

ter,

When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them: haply my presence
May well abate the over merry spleen,
Which otherwise would go into extremes.

[Exeunt. 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 honor taste of these

conserves?

3 Serv. What raiment will your honor wear to-day?

Sly. I am Christopher Sly; call not me-honor, 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 humor in your

honor!

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

selves,

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 honorable action, Such as he hath observed 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 honor will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May show her duty, and make known her love?

• Moderation.

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: 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,

• Distracted.

[Music.