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b"Enter the PAGE as a lady, with ATTENDANTS
\\n
\\nSLY. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it.
\\nPAGE. How fares my noble lord?
\\nSLY. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
\\nWhere is my wife?
\\nPAGE. Here, noble lord; what is thy will with her?
\\nSLY. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
\\nMy men should call me 'lord'; I am your goodman.
\\nPAGE. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
\\nI am your wife in all obedience.
\\nSLY. I know it well. What must I call her?
\\nLORD. Madam.
\\nSLY. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?
\\nLORD. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies.
\\nSLY. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd
\\nAnd slept above some fifteen year or more.
\\nPAGE. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
\\nBeing all this time abandon'd from your bed.
\\nSLY. 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
\\nExeunt SERVANTS
\\nMadam, undress you, and come now to bed.
\\nPAGE. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
\\nTo pardon me yet for a night or two;
\\nOr, if not so, until the sun be set.
\\nFor your physicians have expressly charg'd,
\\nIn peril to incur your former malady,
\\nThat I should yet absent me from your bed.
\\nI hope this reason stands for my excuse.
\\nSLY. Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would
\\nbe loath to fall into my dreams again. I will therefore tarry in
\\ndespite of the flesh and the blood.
\\n
\\nEnter a MESSENGER
\\n
\\nMESSENGER. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
\\nAre come to play a pleasant comedy;
\\nFor so your doctors hold it very meet,
\\nSeeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
\\nAnd melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
\\nTherefore they thought it good you hear a play
\\nAnd frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
\\nWhich bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
\\nSLY. Marry, I will; let them play it. Is not a comonty a
\\nChristmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?
\\nPAGE. No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
\\nSLY. What, household stuff?
\\nPAGE. It is a kind of history.
\\nSLY. Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let
\\nthe world slip;-we shall ne'er be younger.
\\n[They sit down]
\\n
\\nA flourish of trumpets announces the play
\\n
\\nACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public place
\\n
\\nEnter LUCENTIO and his man TRANIO
\\n
\\nLUCENTIO. Tranio, since for the great desire I had
\\nTo see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
\\nI am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,
\\nThe pleasant garden of great Italy,
\\nAnd by my father's love and leave am arm'd
\\nWith his good will and thy good company,
\\nMy trusty servant well approv'd in all,
\\nHere let us breathe, and haply institute
\\nA course of learning and ingenious studies.
\\nPisa, renowned for grave citizens,
\\nGave me my being and my father first,
\\nA merchant of great traffic through the world,
\\nVincentio, come of the Bentivolii;
\\nVincentio's son, brought up in Florence,
\\nIt shall become to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
\\nTo deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds.
\\nAnd therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
\\nVirtue and that part of philosophy
\\nWill I apply that treats of happiness
\\nBy virtue specially to be achiev'd.
\\nTell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left
\\nAnd am to Padua come as he that leaves
\\nA shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
\\nAnd with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
\\nTRANIO. Mi perdonato, gentle master mine;
\\nI am in all affected as yourself;
\\nGlad that you thus continue your resolve
\\nTo suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
\\nOnly, good master, while we do admire
\\nThis virtue and this moral discipline,
\\nLet's be no Stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
\\nOr so devote to Aristotle's checks
\\nAs Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd.
\\nBalk logic with acquaintance that you have,
\\nAnd practise rhetoric in your common talk;
\\nMusic and poesy use to quicken you;
\\nThe mathematics and the metaphysics,
\\nFall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
\\nNo profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;
\\nIn brief, sir, study what you most affect.
\\nLUCENTIO. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
\\nIf, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
\\nWe could at once put us in readiness,
\\nAnd take a lodging fit to entertain
\\nSuch friends as time in Padua shall beget.
\\n
\\nEnter BAPTISTA with his two daughters, KATHERINA
\\nand BIANCA; GREMIO, a pantaloon; HORTENSIO,
\\nsuitor to BIANCA. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand by
\\n
\\nBut stay awhile; what company is this?
\\nTRANIO. Master, some show to welcome us to town.
\\nBAPTISTA. Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
\\nFor how I firmly am resolv'd you know;
\\nThat is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
\\nBefore I have a husband for the elder.
\\nIf either of you both love Katherina,
\\nBecause I know you well and love you well,
\\nLeave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
\\nGREMIO. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me.
\\nThere, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?
\\nKATHERINA. [To BAPTISTA] I pray you, sir, is it your will
\\nTo make a stale of me amongst these mates?
\\nHORTENSIO. Mates, maid! How mean you that? No mates for you,
\\nUnless you were of gentler, milder mould.
\\nKATHERINA. I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
\\nIwis it is not halfway to her heart;
\\nBut if it were, doubt not her care should be
\\nTo comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
\\nAnd paint your face, and use you like a fool.
\\nHORTENSIO. From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
\\nGREMIO. And me, too, good Lord!
\\nTRANIO. Husht, master! Here's some good pastime toward;
\\nThat wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
\\nLUCENTIO. But in the other's silence do I see
\\nMaid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
\\nPeace, Tranio!
\\nTRANIO. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.
\\nBAPTISTA. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
\\nWhat I have said- Bianca, get you in;
\\nAnd let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
\\nFor I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.
\\n
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