Act 1 Scene 1

  1. Sly:

    I’ll feeze you, in faith.

  2. Hostess:

    A pair of stocks, you rogue!

  3. Sly:

    You’re a baggage! The Slys are no rogues. Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucas pallabris, let the world slide. Sessa!

  4. Hostess:

    You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

  5. Sly:

    No, not a denier. Go, by Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed and warm thee.

  6. Hostess:

    I know my remedy. I must go fetch the headborough.

  7. 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.

  8. Lord:

    Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds. Breathe Merriman (the poor cur is embossed) And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed 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.

  9. 1st Huntsman:

    Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord. He cried upon it at the merest loss, And twice today picked out the dullest scent. Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

  10. Lord:

    Thou art a fool. If Echo were as fleet I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well, and look unto them all — Tomorrow I intend to hunt again.

  11. Huntsman:

    I will, my lord.

  12. Lord:

    What’s here? One dead, or drunk? See doth he breathe?

  13. 2nd Huntsman:

    He breathes, my lord. Were he not warmed with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

  14. 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 conveyed to bed, Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him when he wakes, Would not the beggar then forget himself?

  15. 1st Huntsman:

    Believe me lord, I think he cannot choose.

  16. 2nd Hunstman:

    It would seem strange unto him when he waked—

  17. Lord:

    Even as a flatt’ring dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest. Carry him gently to my fairest chamber, And hang it round with all my wanton pictures. Balm his foul head in warm distillèd waters, And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet. Procure me music ready when he wakes To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound. And if he chance to speak, be ready straight (And with a low submissive reverence) Say, “What is it your Honour will command? ” Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rosewater and bestrewed with flowers, Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, And say, “Will ’t please your Lordship cool your hands? ” Someone be ready with a costly suit, And ask him what apparel he will wear. Another tell him of his hounds and horse, And that his lady mourns at his disease. Persuade him that he hath been lunatic, And when he says he is, say that he dreams, For he is nothing but a mighty lord. This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs. It will be pastime passing excellent If it be husbanded with modesty.

  18. 1st Huntsman:

    My lord, I warrant you we will play our part As he shall think by our true diligence He is no less than what we say he is.

  19. Lord:

    Take him up gently, and to bed with him, And each one to his office when he wakes. Sirrah, go see what trumpet ’tis that sounds. Belike some noble gentleman that means (Travelling some journey) to repose him here. How now? Who is it?

  20. Servant:

    An ’t please your Honour, players That offer service to your Lordship.

  21. Lord:

    Bid them come near. Now, fellows, you are welcome.

  22. Players:

    We thank your Honour.

  23. Lord:

    Do you intend to stay with me tonight?

  24. 1st Player:

    So please your Lordship to accept our duty.

  25. Lord:

    With all my heart. This fellow I remember Since once he played a farmer’s eldest son — ’Twas where you wooed the gentlewoman so well. I have forgot your name, but sure that part Was aptly fitted and naturally performed.

  26. 1st Player:

    I think ’twas Soto that your Honour means.

  27. Lord:

    ’Tis very true, thou didst it excellent. — Well, you are come to me in happy time, The rather for I have some sport in hand Wherein your cunning can assist me much. There is a lord will hear you play tonight; But I am doubtful of your modesties, Lest (over-eying of his odd behaviour, For yet his Honour never heard a play), You break into some merry passion, And so offend him. For I tell you sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient.

  28. 2nd Player :

    Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves Were he the veriest antic in the world.

  29. Lord:

    Go sirrah, take them to the buttery And give them friendly welcome every one. Let them want nothing that my house affords. The Servant leads the Players offstage. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew, my page, And see him dressed in all suits like a lady. That done, conduct him to the drunkard’s chamber, And call him “Madam,” do him obeisance. Tell him from me (as he will win my love) He bear himself with honourable action, Such as he hath observed in noble ladies Unto their lords, by them accomplishèd. Such duty to the drunkard let him do With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy, And say “What is ’t your Honour will command, Wherein your lady and your humble wife May show her duty and make known her love?” And then: with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom, Bid him shed tears — as being overjoyed To see her noble lord restored to health, Who, for this seven years, hath esteemed him No better than a poor and loathsome beggar. And if the boy have not a woman’s gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift, Which (in a napkin being close conveyed) Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. See this dispatched with all the haste thou canst. Anon I’ll give thee more instructions.
    [Exit the Servant.]
    I know the boy will well usurp the grace, Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman. I long to hear him call the drunkard “husband”. And how my men will stay themselves from laughter When they do homage to this simple peasant, I’ll in to counsel them. Haply my presence May well abate the over-merry spleen Which otherwise would grow into extremes.
    [They all exit.]

  30. Sly:

    For God’s sake, a pot of small ale.

  31. 1st Servant:

    Will ’t please your Lordship drink a cup of sack?

  32. 2nd Servant:

    Will ’t please your Honour taste of these conserves?

  33. 3rd Servant:

    What raiment will your Honour wear today?

  34. Sly:

    I am Christophero Sly, call not me “Honour” nor “Lordship”. I ne’er drank sack in my life. An if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef. Ne’er ask me what raiment I’ll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet — nay sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather.

  35. Lord (as a servant):

    Heaven cease this idle humour in your Honour! O, that a mighty man of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem Should be infusèd with so foul a spirit

  36. Sly:

    What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly’s son of Burton-Heath, by birth a peddler, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat alewife of Wincot, if she know me not. If she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying’st knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught! Here’s—

  37. Lady:

    O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.
    O, this is it that makes your servants droop. 
    Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
    As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
    O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth.
    Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
    And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
    Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
    Each in his office ready at thy beck.
    Wilt thou have music? Hark, Apollo plays,
    And twenty cagèd nightingales do sing.
    Or wilt thou sleep? We’ll have thee to a couch
    Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
    On purpose trimmed up for Semiramis.
    Say thou wilt walk: we will bestrew the ground.
    Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapped,
    Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
    Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar
    Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt?
    Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
    And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.


  38. 1st Servant:

    Say thou wilt course. Thy greyhounds are as swift As breathèd stags — ay , fleeter than the roe.

  39. 2nd Servant:

    Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook, And Cytherea all in sedges hid, Which seem to move and wanton with her breath Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

  40. Lord (as a servant):

    We’ll show thee Io as she was a maid, And how she was beguilèd and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done.

  41. 3rd Servant:

    Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood, Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds, And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

  42. Lord (as a servant):

    Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord. Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waning age.

  43. 1st Servant:

    And till the tears that she hath shed for thee, Like envious floods o’errun her lovely face, She was the fairest creature in the world — And yet she is inferior to none.

  44. Sly:

    Am I a lord, and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? Or have I dreamed till now? I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak, I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things. Upon my life, I am a lord indeed And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly. Well, bring our lady hither to our sight, And once again a pot o’ the smallest ale.

  45. Lady:

    Will ’t please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
    O how we joy to see your wit restored!
    O that once more you knew but what you are!
    These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
    Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept.

  46. Sly:

    These fifteen years! By my fay, a goodly nap.
    But did I never speak of all that time?

  47. Player Queen:

    O yes, my lord, but very idle words.
    For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
    Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door,
    And rail upon the hostess of the house,
    And say you would present her at the Leet
    Because she brought stone jugs and no sealed quarts.
    Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

  48. Sly:

    Ay , the woman’s maid of the house.

  49. 3rd Servant:

    Why , sir, you know no house, nor no such maid, Nor no such men as you have reckoned up, As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greete , And Peter Turf , and Henry Pimpernell, And twenty more such names and men as these, Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

  50. Sly:

    Now Lord be thankèd for my good amends!

  51. All Servants:

    Amen.

  52. Enter the actor Bartholomew, dressed as a Lady.

  53. Sly:

    I thank thee, thou shalt not lose by it.

  54. Lady (Bartholomew) :

    How fares my noble lord?

  55. Sly:

    Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough.
    Where is my wife?

  56. Lady (Bartholomew):

    Here noble lord,
    what is thy will with her?

  57. Sly:

    Are you my wife,
    and will not call me “husband”?
    My men should call me “lord.” I am your goodman.

  58. Lady (Bartholomew):

    My husband and my lord, my lord and husband, I am your wife in all obedience.

  59. Sly:

    I know it well. — What must I call her?

  60. Lord (as a servant):

    “Madam.”

  61. Sly:

    “Alice Madam,” or “Joan Madam”?

  62. Lord (as a servant):

    “Madam,” and nothing else. So lords call ladies.

  63. Sly:

    Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed
    And slept above some fifteen year or more.

  64. Lady (Bartholomew):

    Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
    Being all this time abandoned from your bed.

  65. Sly:

    ’Tis much. — Servants, leave me and her alone.
    Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.

  66. Lady (Bartholomew):

    My 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 charged,
    In peril to incur your former malady,
    That I should yet absent me from your bed.
    I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
    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 congealed 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. 
    It is a kind of history. 

  67. Sly:

    Marry, I will.

  68. Player Queen:

    Wilt thou have music? Hark, Apollo plays,
    And twenty cagèd nightingales do sing.  
    Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar
    Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt?
    Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
    And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
    Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight
    Adonis painted by a running brook,
    Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
    Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds,
    And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
    So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

  69. Sly:

    Well, we'll see 't. Come madam wife, sit by my
    Side, and let the world slip. We shall ne'er be
    Younger. 

  70. A trumpet call announces the start of the play.
    Enter Lucentio and his servant, Tranio.

  71. Lucentio:

    Tranio, since for the great desire I had
    To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
    I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy,
    The pleasant garden of great Italy,
    And by my father’s love and leave am armed
    With his goodwill and thy good company.
    My trusty servant, well approved in all,
    Here let us breathe and haply institute
    A course of learning and ingenious studies.
    Pisa, renownèd for grave citizens,
    Gave me my being, and my father first,
    (A merchant of great traffic through the world),
    Vincentio , come of the Bentivolii.
    Vincentio’s son, brought up in Florence,
    It shall become to serve all hopes conceived
    To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds.
    And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study
    Virtue, and that part of philosophy
    Will I apply that treats of happiness
    By virtue specially to be achieved.
    Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left,
    And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
    Shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
    And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.

  72. Tranio:

    Mi perdonato, gentle master mine.
    I am in all affected as yourself,
    Glad that you thus continue your resolve
    To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
    Only (good master) while we do admire
    This virtue and this moral discipline,
    Let’s be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray,
    Or so devote to Aristotle’s checks
    As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured.
    Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
    And practise rhetoric in your common talk.
    Music and poesy use to quicken you,
    The mathematics and the metaphysics —
    Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
    No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en.
    In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

  73. Lucentio:

    Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
    If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
    We could at once put us in readiness
    And take a lodging fit to entertain
    Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
    But stay awhile, what company is this?

  74. Tranio:

    Master, some show to welcome us to town.

  75. [Lucentio and Tranio stand apart and watch.]
    Enter Baptista with his two daughters, Katherine and Bianca, and Bianca’s suitors, Gremio a pantaloon, and Hortensio.

  76. Baptista:

    [To Gremio and Hortensio.]
    Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
    For how I firmly am resolved you know:
    That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
    Before I have a husband for the elder.
    If either of you both love Katherina,
    Because I know you well and love you well,
    Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

  77. Gremio:

    To cart her rather. She’s too rough for me. —
    There, there Hortensio, will you any wife?

  78. Katherina :

    [To Baptista.] I pray you, sir, is it your will
    To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

  79. Hortensio:

    “Mates,” maid? How mean you that? No mates for you,
    Unless you were of gentler, milder mold.

  80. Katherina:

    I’ faith, sir, you shall never need to fear.
    Iwis it is not halfway to her heart.
    But if it were, doubt not, her care should be
    To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool
    And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

  81. Hortensio:

    From all such devils, good Lord deliver us.

  82. Gremio:

    And me too, good Lord.

  83. Tranio:

    [Aside to Lucentio.]
    Husht master, here’s some good pastime toward;
    That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward.

  84. Lucentio:

    [Aside to Tranio.]
    But in the other’s silence do I see
    Maid’s mild behaviour and sobriety.
    Peace, Tranio.

  85. Tranio:

    [Aside to Lucentio.]
    Well said, master. Mum, and gaze your fill.

  86. Baptista:

    [To Gremio and Hortensio.]
    Gentlemen, that I may soon make good What I have said —
    Bianca, get you in,
    And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
    For I will love thee ne’er the less my girl.

  87. Katherina:

    A pretty peat! It is best put finger in the eye, and she knew why.

  88. Bianca:

    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.

  89. Lucentio:

    [Aside to Tranio.]
    Hark Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak!

  90. Hortensio:

    Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
    Sorry am I that our goodwill effects Bianca’s grief.

  91. Gremio:

    Why will you mew her up,
    Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
    And make her bear the penance of her tongue?

  92. Baptista:

    Gentlemen, content ye . I am resolved. —
    Go in, Bianca. [Bianca exits.]
    And for I know she taketh most delight
    In music, instruments, and poetry,
    Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
    Fit to instruct her youth. If you Hortensio,
    Or Signior Gremio, you know any such,
    Prefer them hither. For to cunning men
    I will be very kind. And liberal
    To mine own children in good bringing up.
    And so farewell. — Katherina, you may stay,
    For I have more to commune with Bianca.
    He exits.

  93. Katherina:

    Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours as though, belike, I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!
    She exits.

  94. Gremio:

    You may go to the Devil’s dam! Your gifts are so good, here’s none will hold you. — Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together and fast it fairly out. Our cake’s dough on both sides. Farewell. Yet for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.

  95. Hortensio:

    So will I Signior Gremio. But a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now upon advice, it toucheth us both (that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca’s love) to labour and effect one thing specially.

  96. Gremio:

    What’s that, I pray?

  97. Hortensio:

    Marry sir, to get a husband for her sister.

  98. Gremio:

    A husband? A devil.

  99. Hortensio:

    I say “a husband.”

  100. Gremio:

    I say “a devil.” Think’st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?

  101. Hortensio:

    Tush Gremio. Though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums — why man, there be good fellows in the world, and a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough.

  102. Gremio:

    I cannot tell. But I had as lief take her dowry with this condition: to be whipped at the high cross every morning.

  103. Hortensio:

    Faith, as you say, there’s small choice in rotten apples. But come, since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained till by helping Baptista’s eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to ’t afresh. Sweet Bianca! Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, Signior Gremio?

  104. Gremio:

    I am agreed, and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. Gremio and Hortensio exit.

  105. Tranio:

    I pray sir, tell me, is it possible
    That love should of a sudden take such hold?

  106. Lucentio:

    O Tranio, till I found it to be true,
    I never thought it possible or likely.
    But see, while idly I stood looking on,
    I found the effect of love-in-idleness,
    And now in plainness do confess to thee
    That art to me as secret and as dear
    As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was.
    Tranio: I burn! I pine! I perish, Tranio,
    If I achieve not this young modest girl.
    Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst.
    Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

  107. Tranio:

    Master, it is no time to chide you now.
    Affection is not rated from the heart.
    If love have touched you, naught remains but so,
    Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

  108. Lucentio:

    Gramercies lad. Go forward. This contents, The rest will comfort, for thy counsel’s sound.

  109. Tranio:

    Master, you looked so longly on the maid,
    Perhaps you marked not what’s the pith of all.

  110. Lucentio:

    O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
    Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
    That made great Jove to humble him to her hand
    When with his knees he kissed the Cretan strand.

  111. Tranio:

    Saw you no more? Marked you not how her sister
    Began to scold and raise up such a storm
    That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?

  112. Lucentio:

    Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
    And with her breath she did perfume the air.
    Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.

  113. Tranio:

    [Aside.]
    Nay, then ’tis time to stir him from his trance. —
    I pray awake, sir. If you love the maid,
    Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
    Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
    That till the father rid his hands of her,
    Master, your love must live a maid at home,
    And therefore has he closely mewed her up,
    Because she will not be annoyed with suitors.

  114. Lucentio:

    Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he.
    But art thou not advised he took some care
    To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?

  115. Tranio:

    Ay, marry, am I, sir, and now ’tis plotted.

  116. Lucentio:

    I have it, Tranio!

  117. Tranio:

    Master, for my hand,
    Both our inventions meet and jump in one.

  118. Lucentio:

    Tell me thine first.

  119. Tranio:

    You will be schoolmaster
    And undertake the teaching of the maid.
    That’s your device.

  120. Lucentio:

    It is. May it be done?

  121. Tranio:

    Not possible. For who shall bear your part
    And be, in Padua here, Vincentio’s son:
    Keep house, and ply his book, welcome his friends,
    Visit his countrymen and banquet them?

  122. Lucentio:

    Basta! Content thee, for I have it full.
    We have not yet been seen in any house,
    Nor can we be distinguished by our faces
    For man or master. Then it follows thus:
    Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead —
    Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should.
    I will some other be, some Florentine,
    Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
    ’Tis hatched, and shall be so. Tranio, at once
    Uncase thee. Take my coloured hat and cloak.
    [They exchange clothes.]
    When Biondello comes, he waits on thee,
    But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.

  123. Tranio:

    So had you need.
    In brief sir, sith it your pleasure is,
    And I am tied to be obedient
    (For so your father charged me at our parting:
    “Be serviceable to my son,” quoth he,
    Although I think ’twas in another sense).
    I am content to be Lucentio,
    Because so well I love Lucentio.

  124. Lucentio:

    Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves,
    And let me be a slave t’achieve that maid
    Whose sudden sight hath thralled my wounded eye.
    Enter Biondello.
    Here comes the rogue. — Sirrah, where have you been?

  125. Biondello:

    Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes? Or you stolen his? Or both? Pray, what’s the news?

  126. Lucentio:

    Sirrah, come hither. ’Tis no time to jest, And therefore frame your manners to the time. Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life, Puts my apparel and my count’nance on, And I for my escape have put on his. For in a quarrel since I came ashore I killed a man, and fear I was descried. Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes, While I make way from hence to save my life. You understand me?

  127. Biondello:

    I sir? Ne’er a whit.

  128. Lucentio:

    And not a jot of “Tranio” in your mouth.
    Tranio is changed into Lucentio.

  129. Biondello:

    The better for him. Would I were so too.

  130. Tranio:

    So could I, faith boy, to have the next wish after, that Lucentio indeed had Baptista’s youngest daughter. But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master’s , I advise you use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies. When I am alone, why then I am Tranio, but in all places else, your master Lucentio.

  131. Lucentio:

    Tranio , let’s go. One thing more rests, that thyself execute, to make one among these wooers. If thou ask me why, sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.

  132. They exit.

  133. Lady (Bartholomew):

    My lord, you nod. You do not mind the play.

  134. Sly:

    Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter surely.
    Comes there any more of it?

  135. Lady (Bartholomew) :

    My lord, ’tis but begun.

  136. Sly:

    ’Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady.
    Would ’twere done.
    They sit and watch.