Characters in the Induction. A Lord, before whom the Play is fuppos'd to be play'd. Hoftefs. Page, Players, Huntfmen, and other Servants attending on the Lord. Dramatis Perfonæ. ·Baptifta, Father to Catharina and Bianca; very rich. Lucentio, Son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca. Hortenfio, Tranio, Biondello, } Pretenders to Bianca. } Servants to Lucentio. Grumio, Servant to Petruchio. Pedant, an old fellow fet up to perfonate Vincentio. Catharina, the Shrew. Bianca, her Sifter. Taylor, Haberdashers; with Servants attending on SCENE, fometimes in Padua; and fometimes in THE THE TAMING of the SHREW. INDUCTION. S CEN NE I. Before an Aleboufe on a Heath. Enter Hoftefs and Sly. SLY. "LL pheefe you,' in faith. I' Hoft. A pair of ftocks, you rogue! Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues. Look in the Chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror; therefore, paucus pallabris; let the world Alide: Selfa. I'll pheese you,-] To pheaze or feafe, is to feparate a twift into fingle threads. In the figutative fense it may well enough be taken, like teaze or toze, for to barrafs, to plague. Perhaps Tll pheeze you, may be equivalent to I'll comb your head, a phrafe vulgarly ufed by perfons of Sly's character on like occafions, no rogues.] That is, no vagrants, no mean fellows, but Gentlemen. paucus pallabris;] Sly, as an ignorant Fellow, is purpofely made to aim at Languages out of his Knowledge, and knock the words out of Joint. The Spaniards fay, pocas palabras, i. e. few words: as they do likewise, Ceffa, i. e. be quiet. B & THEOB. Hoft. You will not pay for the glaffes you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier: go by, Jeronimothy cold bed, and warm thee. go to Hoft. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the Thirdborough. 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. [Falls afleep. 3 Go by S. Jeronimy, go to thy cold Bed, and warm thee.] All the Editions have coined a Saint here, for Sly to fwear by. But the Poet had no fuch Intentions. The Paffage has particular Humour in it, and must have been very pleafing at that time of day. But I must clear up a Piece of Stage history, to make it underflood. There is a fuftian old Play, call'd, Hieronymo; Or, The Spanish Tragedy: which, I find, was the common Butt of Rallery to all the Poets of Shakefeare's Time: and a Paffage, that appear'd very ridiculous in that Play, is here humorously alluded to. Hieronymo, thinking himself injur'd, applies to the King for Juftice; but the Courtiers, who did not defire his Wrongs fhould be fet in a true Light, attempt to hinder him from an Audience. Hiero. Juftice, ob! juftice to Hieronymo. Lor. Back;fee'ft thou not, the King is bufy? Hiero. Ob, is be fo? King. Who is He, that interrupts our Business? Hiero. Not I: Hieronymo, beware; go by, go by. So Sly here, not caring to be dun'd by the Hoflefs, cries to her in Effect, "Don't be trouble“fom, don't interrupt me, go, "by ;" and, to fix the Satire in his Allufion, pleasantly calls her Jeronymo. THEOBALD. ♦-I must go fetch the Headborough. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth Borough, &c.] This corrupt Reading had pafs'd down through all the Copies, and none of the Editors pretended to guess at the Poet's Conceit. What an infipid, unmeaning Reply does Sly make to his Hoflefs? How do third, or fourth, or fifth Borough relate to Headborough? The Author in tended but a poor Witticism, and even That is loft. The Hoftefs would fay, that the'll fetch a Conftable: and this Officer fhe calls by his other Name, a Thirdborough: and upon this Term Sly founds the Conundrum in his Anfwer to her. Who does not perceive, at a fingle glance, fome Conceit ftarted by this certain Correction? There is an Attempt at Wit, tolerable enough for a Tinker, and one drunk too. Third-borough is a Saxon-term fufficiently explain'd by the Gloffaries: and in our Statute-books, no farther back than the 28th Year of Henry VIIIth, we find it used to fignify a Conftable. THEOBALD. SCENE Wind borns. Enter a Lord from bunting, with a Train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my Brach, Merriman, the poor cur is imboft; s Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my Lord; He cried upon it at the meereft lofs, And twice to day pick'd out the dullest scent : Lord. Thou art a fool; if Eccho were as fleet, But fup them well, and look unto them all, Hun. I will, my Lord. Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? fee, doth he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. warm'd with ale, Were he not This were a bed but cold, to fleep fo foundly. Lord. O monftrous beaft! how like a fwine he lies! -Grim death, how foul and loathfome is thy image!Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, And brave attendants near him, when he wakes; 1 Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chuse. Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dream, or worthless fancy. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; To make a dulcet and a heav'nly found; Say, what is it your Honour will command ? And fay, will't please your lordship cool your hands? And ask him what apparel he will wear; It will be paftime paffing excellent, If it be husbanded with modefty. Hun. My Lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, As he fhall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we fay he is. Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him ; 6 modefty.] By modefly is meant moderation, without fuffering ur merriment to break into any excess. And |