Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed, 2 Ser. Will 't please your mightiness to wash your hands? O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d! O, that once more you knew but what you are! 1 Serv. O! yes, my lord, but very idle words; And say you would present her at the leet, Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. 3 Serv. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor no such maid, Sly. Now, Lord be thauked for my good amends! Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? My men should call me lord: I am your good-man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well. Lord. Madam. What must I call her? 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 alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. 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 charg'd, 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. Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment Are 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. household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history. Sly. Well, we'll see 't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side, And let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger. ACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public Place. Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO. Luc. Tranio, since, for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Gave me my being; and my father, first Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence, Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine, Glad that you thus continue your resolve, Only, good master, while we do admire The mathematics, and the metaphysics, Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you. Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore, 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, importune me no farther, For how I firmly am resolv'd you know; That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter, If either of you both love Katharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? Kath. [To BAP.] I pray you, Sir, is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you, Unless you were of gentler, milder mould. Kath. I' faith, Sir, you shall never need to fear: I wis, it is not half way to her heart; But, if it were, doubt not her care should be Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime toward: Luc. But in the other's silence do I see Maids' 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: Put finger in the eye, Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent. Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe: My books, and instruments, shall be my company, On them to look, and practise by myself. Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak. Sorry am I, that our good will effects Bianca's grief. Gre. Why, will you mew her up, Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell, And make her bear the penance of her tongue? Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd. Go in, Bianca. And for I know, she taketh most delight In music, instruments, and poetry, Fit to instruct her youth. Or signior Gremio, you, within my house, If you, Hortensio, Prefer them hither; for to cunning men [Exit BIANCA. |