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and other servants attending on
Baptista, a rich gentleman of Padua.
suitors to Bianca. Hortensio, Tranio,
servants to Lucentio. Biondello, Grumio,
servants to Petruchio. Curtis, Pedant, an old fellow set upto personate Vincentio
Katharina, the Shrew;
} daughters to Baptista.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on
Baptista and Petruchio.
Scene, sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in
Petruchio's House in the Country.
To the Original Play of The Taming of a Shrew,
entered on the Stationers' books in 1594, and print. ed in quarto in 1607.
A Lard, &c.
Alphonsus, a merchant of Athens.
suitors to the daughters of Ferando,
Alphonsus. Polidor, Valeria, servant to Aurelius. Sander, seroant to Ferando. Phylotus, a merchant who personates the Duke.
Kate, Emelia, Phylema,
daughters to Alphonsus.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants to Ferando
Scene, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country
SCENE 1. Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter Hostess and Sly.
Sly. Y’are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues: Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabrist; let the world slide: Sessa 1!
Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burstg?
Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy: Go to thy cold bed, and warm theell.
• Beat or knock. + Few words. | Be quiet.
Broke. || This line and the scrap of Spanish is used in burlesque from an old play called Hieronymo, or the Spanish Tragedy.
Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough*.
(Erit. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law: I'll not budge au inch, boy; let him come, and kindly.
(Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep.
Wind Horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with
Huntsmen and Seroants.
Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well
my hounds: Brach + Merrimau,-the poor cur is emboss'd I, And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
1 Hun. I will my lord.
doth he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not
warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he
lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed,
* An officer whose authority equals a constable. + Bitch.