Scratching her legs, that, one fhall fwear, the bleeds; And at that fight fhall fad Apollo weep:

So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord : Thou haft a Lady far more beautiful

Than any woman in this waining age.

1 Man. And 'till the tears, that the hath shed for thee,
Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world,
And yet the is inferior to none.

Sly. Am I a Lord, and have I fuch a Lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dreamed 'till now?
I do not fleep; I fee, I hear, I speak;
I fmell sweet favours, and I feel soft things:
Upon my life, I am a Lord, indeed;
And not a tinker, nor Chriftophero Sly.
Well, bring our Lady hither to our fight,
And, once again, a pot o'th' fmalieft ale.

2 Man.Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
Oh, how we joy to fee your wits restor❜d!
Oh, that once more you knew but what
you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
Or, when you wak'a, fo wak'd as if you flept.
Sly. Thefe fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap;
But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words.
For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door,
And rail'd upon the hoftefs of the houfe;
And fay, you would prefent her at the leet,
Because the bought ftone jugs, and no feal'd quarts:
Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacker.
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no houfe; nor no such maid; Nor no fuch men, as you have reckon'd up ; (6) As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,

And

(6) As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,] An unknown correfpondent, (who figns himself L. H.) is pleafed to propose this very reasonable conjecture,

and old John Naps o'th' Green.

As

And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell,

And twenty more fuch names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever faw.

Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
All. Amen.-

Sly. By th' mafs, I think, I am a Lord indeed.
What is thy name?

Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.

Sly. Sim? that's as much as to fay, Simeon or Simon; put forth thy hand and fill the pot.

[The Servant gives him drink.

Enter Lady, with attendants.

I thank thee;-thou shalt not lose by it.
Lady. How fares my noble Lord?

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

Lady. Here, noble Lord, what is thy will with her? Sly, Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? my men fhould call me Lord, I am your good man. Lady. My husband and my Lord, my Lord and husband. I am your wife in all obedience.

Sly. I know it well: what muft I call her?
Lord. Madam.

Sly. Alce madam, or Joan madam ›

Lord. Madam, and nothing elfe, fo Lords call Ladies. Sly. Come, fit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they fay, that I have dream'd, and slept above some fifteen years and more.

Lady. 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. Sim, drink to her.

As Sly fays, he's the fon of old Sly of Burton-beath, and talks of the fat alewife of Wincot; he thinks, he can with no propriety have any acquaintance in Greece. If, indeed, the province of Greece were to be here understood, this obfervation must neceffarily take place; but I have not disturb'd the text, because I do not know, but that in the neighbourhood of Wincot and Burton-beath, there may be some village call'd Greece, or Greys, &c.

Lady.

Lady. Thrice-noble Lord, let me entreat of you, To pardon me yet for a night or two :

Or, if not fo, until the fun be ft:

For your phyficians have exprefly charg'd,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I fhould yet absent me from your bed;
I hope, this reafon ftands for my excufe.

fo

Sly. Ay, it ftands fo, that I may hardly tarry so long: but I would be loath to fall into my dream again : I will therefore tarry in defpight of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Messenger.

Me. Your Honour's players, hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For fo your doctors hold it very meet,

Seeing too much fadnefs hath congeal'd your
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

blood;

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; is it not a com-
modity? a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick?
Lady. No, my good Lord, it is more pleafing stuff,
Sly. What, houshold ftuff?

Lady. It is a kind of history.

Sly. Well, we'll fee't: Come Madam wife, fit by my fide, and let the world flip, we shall ne'er be younger.

The

T

Flourish. Enter Lucentio and Tranio.

LUCENTI O.

Ranie, fince for the great defire I had
To fee fair Padua, nursery of arts,
I am arriv'd from fruitful Lombardy, (7)
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;
Moft trusty fervant, well approv'd in all,
Here let us breathe, and haply institute
A courfe of learning, and ingenious studies.
Pifa, renowned for grave citizens,

Gave me my being; and my father first,
A merchant of great traffick through the world:
Vincentios come of the Bentivolit,

Lucentio his fon, brought up in Florence,
It shall become to ferve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds!

(7) I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,] Though all the impreffions concur in this, I take it to be a blunder of the editors, and not of the author. Padua is not in Lombardy; but Pifa, from which Lucentio comes, is really in those territories.

And

And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy,
Virtue and that part of philofophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue fpecially to be atchiev'd.
Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
A fhallow plafh to plunge him in the deep,
And with fatiety feeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Me pardonato, gentle mafter mine,
I am in all affected as yourself:
Glad, that you thus continue
your refolve,
To fuck the sweets of fweet philofophy:
Only, good mafter, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral difcipline,
Let's be no ftoicks, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or, fo devote to Ariftotle's checks,
As Ovid be an out caft quite abjur'd.
Talk logick with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetorick in your common talk;
Mufick and poefy ufe to quicken you;
The mathematicks, and the metaphyficks,
Fall to them, as you find your ftomach ferves you;
No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en:
In brief, Sir, ftudy what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise;
If, Biondello, thou wert come afhore,

We could at once put us in readiness;

And take a lodging fit to entertain

Such friends, as time in Padua fhall beget.

But ftay a while, what company is this?

Tra. Maiter, fome fhow to welcome us to town.

Enter Baptifta with Catharina and Bianca, Gremio and
Hortenfio. Lucentio and Tranio ftand by.

Bap. Gentlemen both, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am refolv'd, you know;
That is, not to beftow my youngest daughter,

Before I have a husband for the elder :

If either of you both love Catharina,

VOL. II.

Because