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SCENE I.

ACT I.

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Mor. Methinks now,

He's not so terrible as people think him. Soph. This old thief flatters, out of mere devotion,

To please the father for his second daughter. Tra. But shall he have her?

Soph. Yes, when I have Rome: And yet the father's for him.

Mor. I'll assure you,

I hold him a good inan.

Soph. Yes, sure, a wealthy;

But whether a good woman's man is doubtful. Tra. 'Would 'twere no worse!

Mor. What tho' his other wife, Out of her most abundant soberness, Out of her daily hue and cries upon him, (For sure she was a rebel) turn'd his temper, And forc'd him blow as high as she; does't follow

He must retain that long-since-buried tempest, To this soft maid?

Soph. I fear it.

Tra. So do I too;

And so far, that if God had made me woman, And his wife that must be

Mor. What would you do, sir?

Tra. I'd learn to eat coals with an angry cat, [him, And spit fire at him; I would, to prevent Do all the ramping, roaring tricks, a whore, Being drunk, and tumbling ripe, would tremble at:

There is no safety else, nor moral wisdom,
To be a wife, and his.

Soph. So I should think too. [first wife Tra. For yet the bare remembrance of his (I tell you on my knowledge, and a truth too) Will make him start in's sleep, and very often Cry out for cudgels, colestaves, any thing; Hiding his breeches, out of fear her ghost Should walk, and wear 'em yet. Since his first marriage,

He is no more the still Petruchio,
Than I am Babylon.

Soph. He's a good fellow,

And on my word I love him; but to think
A fit match for this tender soul-

Tra. His very frown3, if she but say her prayers [tinder; Louder than men talk treason, makes him The motion of a dial, when he's testy,

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Is the same trouble to him as a water-work;
She must do nothing of herself, not eat,
Drink, say
Sir, how do you?' make her
Unless he bid her.
[ready, unready,
Soph. He will bury her, [three weeks.
Ten pound to twenty shillings, within these
Tra. I'll be your half.

Enter Jaques, with a pot of Wine.
Mor. He loves her most extremely,
And so long 'twill be honey-moon. Now,
You are a busy man, I'm sure.

Jaques. Yes, certain ;

This old sport must have eggs. Soph. Not yet this ten days.

Rosemary.] See note 33 on the Elder Brother.

To prevent him.] i. e. To be beforehand with him, to out-do him.

3 His very frown

[Jaques!

-makes him tinder.] This very unintelligible passage, we have no assistance from any authority to set right: what stuff is it to say, that Petruchio's own frown, if his wife says her prayers, &c. makes him (Fetruchio) tinder. If I may venture to conjecture what the poet did write, it should be thus: her very sound, or, as it might be wrote nearer to the trace of the letters in Chaucer's manner, her very sown, i. e. voice, and then the passage would be sense. Sympson.

We think some words are lost his very frown, is a proper beginning of a reply to the foregoing speech. The last speech ending with an imperfect verse, Tranio's might have begun with,

Oh, no!

His very frown would throw her into fits;

And ev'n her voice, if she but, &c.

We do not presume to give the additional words as those lost, but only as supplying something like the sense of them.

Jaques.

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Rowl. Why then take this way?
Livia. Till be a childish, and a less pro-
sperous course
Than his that knows not care; why should
Our honest and our hearty love such wrong,
To over-run our fortunes?

Rowl. Then you flatter!

Livia. Alas, you know I cannot.
Rowl. What hope's left else

But flying, to enjoy ye?

Livia. None, so far.

For let it be admitted, we have time,
And all things now in other expectation,
My father's bent against us; what but ruin,
Can such a bye-way bring us? If your fears
Would let you look with my eyes, I would

shew you,

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Rowl. Yes.

Livia. Behind,

Lac'd' out upon a petticoat.-Or grasp me,
While I cry, oh, good thank you! (O' my

troth,
[with me,
Thou mak'st me merry with thy fear!) or lie
As you may do? Alas, what fools you men
are!

His mouldy money? Half a dozen riders,
That cannot sit, but stampt fast to their
saddles;

No, Rowland, no man shall make use of me;
My beauty was born free, and free I'll give it
To him that loves, not buys me.
You yet

doubt me?

Rowl. I cannot say I doubt you.
Livia. Go thy ways:

Thou art the prettiest puling piece
I'faith, I will not fail thee.

Row I had rather

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[carry it,

Livia. Prithee, believe me! If I do not For both our goods

Rowl. But

Livia. What but ?

Rowl. I would tell you.

[but this;

Livia. I know all you can tell me : all's
You'd have me, and lie with me; is't not so?
Rowl. Yes.
[you? Go.

Livia. Why, you shall; will that content
Rowl. I am very loth to go.

Enter Bianca and Maria.
Livia. Now, o'my conscience,
Thou art an honest fellow! Here's my sister!
Go, prithee go! this kiss, and credit me,
Ere I am three nights older, I am for thee:
You shall hear what I do. Farewell!

Rowl. Farewell!

[Exit.

Livia. Alas, poor fool, how't looks! [it. It would ev'n hang itself, should I but cross For pure love to the matter, I must hatch it.

bianca. Nay, never look for merry hour,
Maria,

If now you make it not: let not your blushes,
Your modesty, and tenderness of spirit,

+ Broods his master.] i. e. Nourishes or cherishes hin.
5 Lasd, first folio; laid, second. The text is by Sympson.

Make

Make you continual anvil to his anger!
Believe me, since his first wife set him going,
Nothing can bind his rage: take your own
council;

You shall not say that I persuaded you.
But if you suffer him--

Maria. Stay! shall I do't?

Bianca. Have you a stomach to't? Maria. I never shew'd it. [stronger in you. Bianca. 'Till shew the rarer and the But do not say I urg'd you.

Maria. I am perfect. [leap'd Like Curtius, to redeem my country, have I Into this gulph of marriage; and I'll do it. Farewell, all poorer thoughts, but spite and [cousin,

anger,

"Till I have wrought a miracle!-Now, I am no more the gentle, tame Maria: Mistake me not; I have a new soul in me, Made of a north-wind, nothing but tempest; And, like a tempest, shall it make all ruins, 'Till I have run my will out!

[you!

Bianca. This is brave now, If you continue it: but, your own will lead Maria. Adieu, all tenderness! I dare continue. [blushes,

Maids that are made of fears, and modest View me, and love example!

Bianca. Here's your sister.

Maria. Here's the brave old man's love— Bianca. That loves the young man. Maria. Ay, and hold thee there, wench! What a grief of heart is't, [night, When Paphos' revels should up-rouse old To sweat against a cork, to lie and tell The clock o'th' lungs, to rise sport-starv'd?

Livia. Dear sister,

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Stronger.] Sympson would read stranger.

Maria. Yes, wench, and so must you be, Or none of our acquaintance (mark me, Livia),

Or indeed fit for our sex. "Tis bed-time:
Pardon me, yellow Hymen, that I mean
Thine offerings to protract, or to keep fasting
My valiant bridegroom!

Livia. Whither will this woman?
Bianca. You may perceive her end.
Livia. Or rather fear it.

Maria. Dare you be partner in't?
Livia. Leave it, Maria!

[leave it! (I fear I've mark'd too much) for goodness, Divest you with obedient hands; to-bed!

Maria. To bed? No, Livia; there are comets hang

Prodigious over that yet; there's a fellow Must yet, before I know that heat (ne'er start, wench),

Be made a man, for yet he is a monster;
Here must his head be, Livia.

Livia. Never hope it:

[as

Tis as easy with a sieve to scoop the ocean, To tame Petruchio.

Maria. Stay!-Lucina, hear me! Never unlock the treasure of my womb, For human fruit to make it capable; Nor never with thy secret hand make brief A mother's labour to me; if I do Give way unto my married husband's will, Or be a wife in any thing but hopes, 'Till I have made him easy as a child, And tame as fear! (He shall not win a smile, Or a pleas'd look, from this austerity, Tho' it would pull another jointure from him, And make him ev'ry day another man) And when I kiss him, till I have my will, May I be barren of delights, and know Only what pleasures are in dreams and guesses! Livia. A strange exordium! Bianca. All the several wrongs Done by imperious husbands to their wives These thousand years and upwards, strengthen Thou hast a brave cause.

[thee!

Maria. And I'll do it bravely; Or may I knit my life out ever after! Livia. In what part of the world' got she this spirit?

7 In what part of the world.] These six subsequent lines seem almost all misplaced. As they now stand, part of the sentence is intermixt with the parenthesis, and makes a paren thesis to the parenthesis. I read the whole thus:

Livia. In what part of the world got she this spirit?

Which yet I cannot think your own, it shews

So distant from your sweetness

Maria. Tis, I swear.

Livia. Yet pray, Maria, look before you truly,

Besides, the due obedience of a wife,

(Which you will find a heavy imputation)
Weigh but the, &c.

I have inserted an adjective in the fifth line, which seems to have been drop'd by accident; it is necessary to the measure, natural to the expression, and is used in the same manner in another part of the play.

Seward.

We see no need of transposition: the construction is not more violent than passages of these plays, undoubtedlygenuine.

many other

Yet

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Maria. Now thou com'st near the nature Hang these tame-hearted eyasses, that no

sooner

[hollow, See the lure out, and hear their husband's But cry like kites upon 'em: the free haggard [knows it, (Which is that woman that hath wing, and Spirit and plume) will make an hundred checks,

To shew her freedom, sail in ev'ry air,
And look out ev'ry pleasure, not regarding
Lure nor quarry till her pitch command
What she desires; making her founder'd
keeper

Be glad to fling out trains, and golden ones,
To take her down again.

Livia. You're learned, sister;

Yet I say still, take heed!

Maria. A witty saying!

I'll tell thee, Livia, had this fellow tir'd
As many wives as horses under him,
With spurring of their patience; had he got
A patent, with an office to reclaim us,
Confirm'd by parliament; had he all the ma-
And subtilty of devils, or of us, [lice
Or any thing that's worse than both-
Livia. Hey, hey, boys! this is excellent!

Maria. Or could he

['em

Cast his wives new again, like bells, to make
Sound to his will; or had the fearful name
Of the first breaker of wild women; yet,
Yet would I undertake this man, thus single.
And, spite of all the freedom he has reach'd
to,
[him
Turn him and bed him as I list, and mould
Into a babe again that aged women, [him.
Wanting both tee

and spleen, may master

'Bianca. Thou wilt be chronicled. Maria. That's all I aim at. [heart Livia. I must confess I do with all my Hate an imperious husband, and in time Might be so wrought upon

Bianca. To make him cuckold?
Maria. It he deserve it.

Livia. Then I'll leave yc 1o, ladies.
Bianca. Thou hast not so much noble an-
ger in thee.

[to do Maria. Go sleep, go sleep! What we intend Lies not for such starv'd souls as thou hast, Livia. [be with you presently.

Livia. Good night! The bridegroom will
Maria. That's more than you know.
Livia. If you work upon him

As you have promis'd, you may give example,
Which no doubt will be follow'd.

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Maria. If you intend no good, pray do no
Livia. None, but pray for you!

Bianca. Cheer, wench!
Maria. Now Bianca,

[harm!

[Exit.

[height!

Those wits we have, let's wind them to the
My rest is up, wench, and I pull for that
Will make me ever famous. They that lay
Foundations are half-builders, all men say.
Enter Jaques.

Jaques. My master, forsooth-
Maria. Oh, how does thy master?
Prithee commend me to him.
Jaques. How is this?
My master stays, forsooth-

Maria. Why, let him stay!
Who hinders him, forsooth?
Jaques. The revel's ended now.--
To visit you.

Maria. I am not sick.
Jaques. I mean

To see his chamber, forsooth.

$ Besides the obedience of a wife.] We read, disobedience, which aria's answer certainly confirms. Again, obedience, or, as Seward would read, due obedience, is no heavy imputation, but disobedience is; and supplies the syllable required by Seward to complete the measure, and, what is of more consequence, agrees with the sense of the context.-We ought to observe, that we have altered the stops. The text in Maria's speech used to stand

thus:

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You talk too tamely.

Eyasses.] Eyess, a (watery-eyed) hawk brought up under a kite. Coles's Dict. 1677. 10 Then I'll leave ye.] Probably we should read, there I'll leave ye.

Maria

Maria. Am I his groom?

Where lay he last night, forsooth?
Jaques. In the low matted parlour.

Maria. There lies his way, by the long gal-
lery.
[very merry, mistress.
Jaques. I mean your chamber. You are
Maria. 'Tis a good sign I am sound-heart-
ed, Jaques.

But, if you'll know where I lie, follow me; And what thou seest, deliver to thy master.

Bianca. Do, gentle Jaques. [Exeunt. Jaques. Ha! is the wind in that door? By'r lady, we shall have foul weather then! I do not like the shuffling of these women; They are mad beasts, when they knock their heads together: [pers

I have observ'd them all this day, their whisOne in another's ear; their signs and pinches, And breaking often into violent laughters, As if the end they purpos'd were their own. Call you this weddings? Sure this is a kna

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Soph. I am your first man: a pair of gloves Of twenty shillings.

Petru. Done! Who takes me up next? I am for all bets.

[night now, Mor. Well, lusty Lawrence, were but my Old as I am, I'd make you clap'on spurs, But I would reach you, and bring you to your I would, gallants. [trot too;

Petru. Well said, Good-will; but where's the staff, boy", ha?

Old father Time, your hour-glass is empty.

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Jaques. That you cannot neither. Petru. Why?

[ney

Jaques. Unless you will drop thro' the chimLike a daw, or force a breach i'th' windows; You may untile the house, 'tis possible.

Petru. What dost thou mean? [press it: Jaques. A moral, sir; the ballad will exThe wind and the rain

Have turn'd you back again, And you cannot be lodged there. The truth is, all the doors are barricadoed; Not a cat-hole, but holds a murd'rer in't : She's victuall'd for this month.

"Where's the staff boy, ha ?] Tho' I take no pleasure in the raking into a dunghill, yet the amending of passages to the honour of our author's good sense, whether innocent or obscene, is the duty of every careful editor; for staff, therefore, I propose reading stuff, and the following line seems to confirin the alteration:

but where's the stuff boy, ha? Old father Time, your hour-glass is empty.

We think Sympson might have left the staff alone. 12 Will you to bed, son, and leave talking?

To-morrow morning we shall have you look,

Sympson.

For all your great words-] The gravity of the speaker, old Petronius, made me suspicious that, For all your great, &c. must belong to Sophocles: and if they won't come more decently, yet certainly they will flow more properly from his than the old gentleman's mouth. Mr. Seward too advanc'd the same alteration, altho' I have not dar'd to disturb the text.

Sympson.

1

Patru,

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