SONGS.
Geral.
Pray Madam, will you take out this Lesson on the Gittar.
VVin.
Here be de ver fine Story in de Varle of Mounsieur
Appollo, And Madomoselle Daphne; Me vill Read you dat Madam.
Geral.
Good Madam, mind not that Monsieur Shorthose; But Learn
this Lesson first.
VVin.
Begar Monsieur Fideler, you be de vera fine troublesome Fellow,
me vil make de great Hole in your Head wid de Gittar, as Margaret did.
Ger.
This is no Place to Quarrel in: But Remember—
Bian.
Why Gentlemen, you do me double wrong, to strive for that
which Resteth in my Bare Choice: To end the Quarrel, sit down and
Tune your Instrument, and by that time his Lecture will be done.
Gera.
You'l leave his Lecture, when I am in Tune.
Bian.
Yes, yes; Pray be satisfied: Come, Monsieur, let's see your
Ode.
VVin.
I do suspect that Fellow. Sure he's no Lute-Master.
Bian.
Here's the Place, Come Read.
[Reads.
Do not Believe I am a Frenchman, my Name is VVinlove; He that bears
my Name about the Town, is my Man Tranio. I am your passionate Servant,
and must live by your Smiles. Therefore be so good, to give Life to
my hopes.
Gera.
Madam, your Gittar is in Tune.
Bian.
Let's hear; fye, there's a String split.
VVin.
Make de spit in the Whole Man, and Tune it again.
Bian.
Now let me see. I know not how to believe you. But if it
be true, Noble Mr. VVinlove deserves to be belov'd; and, in the mean
time, keep your own Councell; and it is not impossible but your Hopes
may be Converted into Certainties.
Gera.
Madam, now 'tis Perfectly in Tune.
VVin.
Fye, fye, Begar no Tune at all.
-- 15 --
Bian.
Now, Sir, I am for you.
Gera.
Mounsieur, Pray walk now, and give me leave a while, my Lesson
will make no Musick in Three Parts.
VVin.
Me vil no trouble you Mounsieur Fiddeller. I am confident it
is so, this must be some Person that has taken a Disguise, like me, to
Court Biancha; I'll watch him.
(Aside.
Gera.
First, Madam, be pleas'd to Sing the Last Song that I Taught
you, and then we'll proceed.
Bian.
I'll try, but I'm afraid I shall be out.
SONG.
Cera.
Madam, before you proceed any farther, there be some few
Rules set down in this Paper, in order to your Fingering, will be worth
your Perusal.
Bian.
Let's see.
(Reads.
Tho' I appear a Lute-Master, yet know my fair Biancha, I have but taken
this disguise to get Access to you, and tell you I am your humble Servant, and
Passionate Admirer, Geraldo. Pish, take your Rules again, I like 'em not the
old way pleases me best, I do not care for changing old Rules, for these Foolish
new Inventions.
Enter Servant.
Serv.
Madam my Lord calls for you to help dress the Bride.
Bian.
Farewell then Master, I must be gone.
Exeunt
Ger.
I know not what to think of her, this fellow looks, as if he were in
Love, and she carresses him. These damn'd French men, have got all the
trade in Town, if they get up all the handsome Women, the English must
e'en march into Wales for Mistersses; well, if thy thoughts Biancha are
grown so low, to cast thy wandring Eyes on such a kikshaw, I'me resolv'd
to ply my Widow.
Exit.
Win.
I am glad I'me rid of him, that I may speak my Mother Tongue
agen, Biancha has given me hopes, I dare half believe she Loves me.
Enter Beaufoy, Woodal, Tranio, Margaret, Biancha, and Attendants
But here's her Father.
Beau.
Believe me Gentlemen, 'tis very strange! This day Petruchio appointed,
yet he comes not; methinks he shou'd be more a Gentleman, then
to put such a slur upon my Family.
Marg.
Nay, you have us'd me finely, and like a Father; I must be forc'd
to give my hand against my will, to a rude mad brain'd Fellow here; who
Woo'd in hast, and means to Wed at Leisure. This comes of obeying you,
if I do't again, were you ten thousand Fathers hang me.
-- 16 --
Tran.
Be Patient Madam, on my life hee'll come; though he be blunt and
merry, I'm sure hee's Noble; good Madam, go put on your Wedding
Cloaths, I know he'll be with you e're you be Drest.
Marg.
Wedding Cloaths, I'll see him hang'd before I'll have him, unless
it be to scratch his Eyes out.
Exit weeping.
Beau.
Poor Girl! I cannot blame thee now to weep, for such an Injury
wou'd vex a Saint; Tho I am old, I shall find some body will call him to a
strict Account for this.
Enter Jamy.
Jam.
O Master, News! News! and such News as you never heard
off.
Beau.
Why what News have you, Sir?
Jam.
Is't not News to hear of Petruchio's Coming?
Beau.
Why, is he come?
Jam.
Why, no my Lord.
Beau.
What then Sirrah?
Jam.
He's coming Sir.
Beau.
When will he be here?
Jam.
When he stands where I am and sees you there.
Beau.
Well sarrah, is this all the News?
Jam.
Why Petruchio is coming in a new Hat, and an old Jerkin, a pair
of Britches thrice turn'd, a pair of Boots that have been Candle-cases; an
old rusty Sword with a broken hilt, and never a Chape, upon an old Lean,
Lame, Spavin'd, Glander'd, Broken-winded Jade, with a Womans Crupper
of Velvit, here and there peec'd with packthreed.
Tran.
Who comes with him?
Jam.
O Sir, his Man Sauny, and in an Equippage very suitable to his
Master, he looks no more like a Christian Footman, then I look like a
Windmill.
Wood.
This is a most strange Extravagant Humour.
Beau.
I'me glad he comes however he be!
Enter Petruchio and Sauny strangely Habbited.
Pet.
Come, Where be these Gallants, who's at home?
Beau.
You're Wellcome Sir, I'm glad you're come at last.
Tran.
I think I have seen you in better Cloathes.
Pet.
Never, never, Sir, this is my Wedding Suite; Why how now,
how now Gentlemen, What d'ye stare at, d'ye take me for a Monster?
Wood.
Faith in that Habit you might pass for one in the Fair.
Pet.
O you talk merrily, my Taylor tells me it is the newest Fashon:
But where's my Peg? I stay too long from her, the Morning wear's, 'tis
time we were at Church.
-- 17 --
Tran.
Why you won't Visit her thus.
Pet.
Marry but I will.
Saun.
And sea will Saundy tea Sir.
Beau.
But you will not Marry her so, will you?
Saun.
A my Saul sal he Sir.
Pet.
To me shee's Married, not to my Cloathes; Will ye along Father
and Gentlemen? I'll to Church imediately, not tarry a minute.
Saun.
Here ye Sir, ye sal Marry her after the Scotch Directory, then
gin ye like her not, ye maw put her awaw, How say ye now?
Exit. Pet. and Saun.
Tran.
He has some meaning in this mad Attire, but you must perswade
him to put on a better, e're he goes to Church
Beau.
Let's after and see what will become of it.
Exit.
Tran.
Well Sir, you find there's no other way, 'tis too short warning
to get your Father up; shou'd you Steal the Match, who knows but both
the old Fools wou'd so deeply resent it to your Prejudice.
VVin.
Why Prethee this way it will be Stolen for 'tis but a Cheat, which
will be in a little time Discover'd.
Tran.
That's all one, it Carries a better face, and we shall have the
more sport; besides e're it comes out, your Father may be wrought to
like it, and Confirm my Promises; She is suitable to you every way, and
she is rich enough to do it, and Loves you well enough besides.
VVin.
Well if it must be so, let's contrive it handsomly.
Tran.
Let me alone, Jamy shall do the business, he shall find out some
Knight of the Post, that shall be old Sir Lyonel VVinlove here, and make
Assurance of a greater Joynture then I propos'd; ne're fear it Sir, I'll so
Instruct him, it shall be carryed without the least Suspition.
VVin.
Ay but you know old Beaufoy knows my Father.
Tran.
That's nothing, 'tis so many years since he saw him, he will never
distinguish him by his face.
VVin.
This may be done, but notwithstanding all did not my fellow
Teacher, that damn'd Lute-master so nearly watch us, 'twou'd not be amiss
to steal a Marriage, and that once perform'd, let all the World say no, I'll
keep my own.
Tran.
That we may think on too; this same Lute-Master I more then
half suspect.
VVin.
And so do I.
Tran.
I have mist a Gentleman out of the gang a good while, but let
that pass, I have already sent Jamy to find a Man.
Enter Woodall.
To our postures, here's Mr. VVoodall, he must be Chous'd too among the rest,
save you Sir, Came you from the Church?
VVood.
As willingly as e're I came from Schoole.
Tran.
And is the Bride and Bridegroome coming home.
-- 18 --
VVood.
A Bridegroome, why hee's a Bridegroome for the Devil, a Devil,
a very Fiend.
Tran.
Why shee's a Devil, an errant Devil; nay, the Devils Dam.
VVood.
But shee's a Lamb, a Dove, a Child to him: When the Priest
askt if he would take Margaret for his Wife, I by Gogs wound's quoth he,
and Swore so loud! that all amaz'd, the Priest lets fall the Book, and as
the Sexton stoop'd to take it up, this mad brain'd Bridegroome took him
such a cuff, that down fell Sexton Book and all again; now take it up quoth
he if any list.
Tran.
What said the poor Bride to this?
Wood.
Trembl'd and shook like an Aspen Leafe; after this just as the
Parson joyn'd their hands, he call'd to his Roguy Scotchman, for a
Glass of Muscadine, drank his Wives Health, and threw the Toast in the
Clarks face, because his Beard grew thin and hungry, then took the Bride
about the Neck and gave her such a Smack the Church eccho'd again;
the sight of this made me run away for shame, I know they are following
by this time; but hark, I hear the Minstrels. Musick.
Enter Beaufoy, Petruchio, Margaret, Biancha, Geraldo, Sauny, &c.
Pet.
Gentlemen and Friends I thank you for your Pains, I know you
think to Dine with me to day, and have prepar'd great store of Wedding
Chear, but so it is, grand business calls me hence, and I take my leave.
Beau.
Is't Possible you will away to night?
Pet.
I must immediately, if you knew my business you wou'd not
wonder; well honest Gentlemen I thank you all, that have beheld me give
away my self to this most Patient, Sweet and virtuous Wife; Dine with my
Father here, and drink my health for I must hence, so farewel to you
all.
Saun.
Wun's will ye nea eat your Wadden Dunner, Sir?
Tran.
Let us Intreat you to stay till after Dinner.
Pet.
It must not be.
Marg.
Let me Intreat you.
Pet.
That will do much, I am Content.
Marg.
Are you content to stay?
Pet.
I am content you shou'd Intreat me, but yet I will not stay intreat
me how you can.
Marg.
Now if you Love me stay.
Pet.
I cannot, Sauny the Horses.
Saun.
They have nea ea't their Wadden Dunner yet.
Pet.
Sirrah get the Horses.
Marg.
Nay then do what thou canst, I wont go to day, nor to morrow,
nor till I please my self. The door is open Sir, there lyes your way, you
may be jogging while your boots be green.
Pet.
O Peg content thee, Prithee be not angry.
-- 19 --
Marg.
I will be angry, What hast thou to do? Father be quiet, he shall
stay my Leisure.
Wood.
I marry Sir, now it begins to Work.
Marg.
Gentlemen forward to the Bridal Dinner; I see a Woman may
be made a fool off, if she want Spirit to resist.
Pet.
They shall go forward Peg at thy Command; Obey the Bride you
that attend on her. Go to the Feast, Revel, Carouse, and Dance, be Mad
or Merry, or go hang your selves, but for my Bonny Peg shee must with
me; Nay look not big uppn't, nor stamp, nor stair, nor fret; Come,
come, gently, so, so, so, that's my good Peg, I will be master of my own;
She is my proper goods and Chattells; my House, my Ox, my Ass, my any
thing: Look here she stands, touch her who dare, I'll make him smoak
that offers to stop me in my way. Sauny unsheath thy Dudgeon Dagger,
we are beset with Thieves, rescue thy Mistriss if thou beest a Man; fear not
sweet Wench I'll Buckler thee against a Million; nay, come.
Marg.
Will none of you help me?
Saun.
The Deel a bit of Dunner ye gat, Gud at ye woud speak to
your Cuke to gi Saundy a little Mutton and Porridge to put in his
Wallet.
Exeunt. Pet. Marg. Saun.
Beau.
Nay let 'em go, a couple of quiet ones.
Tran.
Never was so mad a Match.
Beau.
Well Gentlemen let's in, we have a Dinner, although we want
a Bride and Bridegroome to it; Biancha you shall take your Sisters Roome,
and Mr. Winlove you may Practise for a Bridegroome.
Exeunt.
Wood.
Mounsieur how do ye find my Mistress inclin'd?
Win.
Me can no tell dat yet, but in time Mounsieur sal inform you.
Wood.
Pray Ply her close, here's something for you.
Exit Woodall.
Win,
Me tank you, Sir; Ha, ha, ha, I must go tell this to my Biancha.
Exit Winlove.
Tran.
Hark ye Sir, you may inform me, Pray what think you, does
Madam Biancha fancy any other but my self, she bears me fair in hand,
pray discover Sir, I shall not be ungrateful?
Ger.
Troth Sir, I think shee's as all other Women are.
Tran.
How is that pray?
Ger.
Why Fickle and Foolish.
Tran.
Why d' ye think so of her, shee was always held Discreet?
Ger.
No sober Man will think so, I tell you Sir, shee cares neither for
you, nor any Man, that's worth careing for; shee's falne in Love with a
Mounsier Jack-daw, a fellow that teaches bad French, in worse English.
Tran.
That fellow, why 'tis impossible.
Ger.
'Tis true tho'.
Tran.
Why I am confident he was employ'd by old Woodall as his Instrument
to Court her for him.
Ger.
If he were, he has spoken one word for him and two for himself.
-- 20 --
Enter Winlove leading Biancha.
See here they come hand in hand, stand close, perhaps your Eyes may
convince you.
Win.
Madam, you need not doubt my Passion; by those fair Eyes I
swear (an Oath inviolable) you have made a Conquest over me so absolute,
that I must dye your Captive.
Tran.
What does he say, what does he say?
Ger.
I cannot hear, Listen.
Bian.
I must believe you Sir, there's some strange power attends your
Words, your Attractive Actions, and your Person, which is too strong
for my weak resistance; you have won, but do not boast your Victory.
Tran.
Nay then I see 'tis so, I cannot hold! Madam you must forgive
my Interruption, you have us'd me kindly, fool'd me with fine hopes,
your Mounsieur there has read Excellent Lessons to you.
Bian.
Sir, I understand you not.
Ger.
That is, you won't.
Win.
What be de matter Mounsieur Fiddeler?
Ger.
No Fiddler, nor no Lutanist Mounsieur, No point, but one that
scorns to live in a Disguise; for such a one as leaves a Gentleman, to doat
upon a Pardon a moy Jack-pudding; know, I am a Gentleman, my name
Geraldo.
Bian.
Alas, Sir, And have you been my Master all this while, and I never
knew it?
Geral.
Yes, Sweet Lady, you did know it; I see you have a Little Spice
of Peg in you: But I have done with you, Mr. Winlove; Pray tell me,
Don't you hate this Gentlewoman now?
Tran.
I cannot say I Hate her; but I'm sure I don't Love her for this
days Work, Wou'd she Court me, I Swear I wou'd not have her.
Gera.
Nor I, by Heavens: I have Sworn, and will keep my Oath.
Bian.
Why Gentlemen, I hope you will not both give the Willow Garland.
Gera.
Go, go, you are a Scurvy Woman; I have a Widdow that has
Lov'd me as Long as I have Lov'd you. Sweet Lady, I am not Bankrupt
for a Mistriss: 'Tis true, she's something of your Sisters Humour, a
Little Way-ward; but one Three Dayes time at the Taming-Schoole, will
make her Vye with any Wife in England. And then I can pass by you
unconcern'd.
Bian.
The Taming-School, for Heavens-sake where is that Sir?
Gera.
Why your Brother Petruchio's House: I doubt you must there
too, e're you'll be good for any thing; I'll to him immediately? Farewell
thou Vile Woman.
[Exit.
Bian.
Ha, ha, ha, this is Excellent.
Tra.
Madam, I beg your Pardon; but I hope my boldness with you,
has done my Master some Service.
-- 21 --
Win.
Believe me has it Tranio, and I must thank thee.
Enter Jamy.
Now, Sirrah, Whither away in such hast?
Jam.
O Master, I have found him.
Winl.
What? Who hast thou found?
Jam.
A rare old Sinner in the Temple Cloysters will do the Feat to a
hair.
Bian.
What feat? What's to be done?
Winl.
That which I told you of my Fairest:
Where is he?
Jam.
Here, here, he Walks in the Court.
Bian.
Well, I must in, or I shall be mist;
Carry the Matter handsomly, and let me not suffer.
(Exit.
Winl.
Fear not Madam; Call him in, Tranio
(Exit.
You must Instruct him, I'll not be seen in't.
(Exit.
Enter Jamy and Snatchpenny.
Tran.
Now Friend, What are you?
Snat.
Any thing that you please Sir.
Tran.
Any thing; Why what can you do.
Snat.
Any thing, for so much as Concerns Swearing and Lying to your
Worships Service, and to get an Honest Livelyhood, So please you to Imploy
me.
Tran.
Why thou may'st serve turn I think;
But I'll put thee to no Swearing, Bare Lying and
Impudence will serve for my Occasion;
You must bate of the Price for that.
Snatch.
Faith, Sir, they'r both of a Price, take e'm or leave e'm.
Tran.
But canst thou Mannage and Carry off a good Well-contriv'd Lye,
to the best advantage?
Snatch.
I should be very sorry else; it has been my Trade these Seven
and thirty Years, never fear it Sir.
Jam.
Nay, I pickt him out amongst half a Score;
I fancy'd he had the best Lying Face amongst e'm.
Tran.
Well, come along with me, and I'll Instruct you; But if you
fail, look to your Eares, if you have any.
Snatch.
I'll venture Neck and all to do it Sir.
(Exit.
Enter Sauny and Curtis severally. Petruchio's House.
Curt.
Honest Sauny, Wellcome, wellcome.
Saun.
Saundy's Hungry; Can't you get a little Meat, Sir?
Curt.
Yes, yes, Sawny.
-- 22 --
Saun.
Ye mun gat a gude Fire, Sir; Mrs. Bride has gat a faw intull a
Dike, She's aw wet Sir; Gud she has not a dry thread to her Arse.
Curt.
Is Master and Mistriss coming Sauny?
Saun.
Gud are they, gin they be nea frozen to the grund, bo whare's
your Fire man?
Curt.
'Tis making, 'tis making, all things are ready; Prithee what News
good Sauny, what kind of Woman is our Mistriss?
Saun.
Ken ye twa twanty Deel's Sir.
Curt.
Marry Heaven defend us.
Saun.
Gud shee has ean twan twanty Deel's I'se nea bate ye ean of
'em.
Curt.
They say shee's a Cruel Shrew.
Saun.
O my saul Sir, I'se hau'd a thousand pund, thee's set up her Tang,
and Scaud fro Edingbrough to London, and nere draw bit for't.
Curt.
What shall we do then, there will be no living for us.
Saun.
Gud will there not, Wun's I think the Deel has flead off her
Skin, and put his Dam intul't; Bo where's Phillip and George and
Gregory.
Curt.
They'r all ready, what ho, come forth here, Phillip, George, Joseph,
Nick, where are you?
Enter 4 or 5 Serving Men.
Phillp.
Honest Sawny, Wellcome home.
Saun.
Gat me some Meat, and I'll believe ye Sir.
Geor.
I am glad to see thee Sawny.
Saun.
Gat me a Drink, and Is'e believe ye tea.
Josep.
What, Sawny come to Town again, Wellcome?
Saun.
Wun's, Walcome, walcome, gat me gude Meat and Drink, that is
Walcome, Sir.
Nick.
Old Lusty Fellow Sawny, Wellcome.
Saun.
How d'ye Wully?
Nick.
D'ye hear the News, Sawny? Wully Watts is Dead.
Saun.
S'breed, nea Man that geas on twa Leggs cou'd slay Wully Watts,
Sir.
Nick.
True; for he was fairly Hang'd.
Saun.
I was sure nea Man that went on twa Leggs could slay him.
Nick.
You are in the right Sawny, for 'twas one with Three Leggs,
'twas Mr. Tyburne, for he was fairly Hang'd.
Saun.
S'breed ye Lye, Sir, the Gallows might kill him, and break his
stout heart, but it cou'd nea hang him: 'Tis hang an English Man.
Nick.
Well, But what kind of Woman is our Mistriss, Sawny
Saun.
You'l ken soon enough 'tea your Sorrow, and wea Sir; Ye've
awe twa Luggs apeece o'your Head: A my Saul I'se nea gea ye twa
Pennys for them by'th Morn: How say ye now?
-- 23 --
Enter Petruchio and Margaret.
Pet.
Where be these Idle Rogues? What no more at Door to hold my
Stirrip, or take my Horses? Where's Curtis, Phillip, Nick and Gregory?
All.
Here, Here, Here, Sir.
Pet.
Here, here, here, you Loggerhead Currs; What, no Attendance, no
Regard, no Duty? Where's that Foolish Knave I sent before.
Saun.
Wuns, Sir, Ise be sea hungry, snd sea empty, ye may travell quite
through me, and nere faw your fingers Sir.
Pet.
You Mangy Rogue, Did not I bid you meet me in the Park, and
bring these Rascals with you?
Saun.
Gud did ye Sir; bo Ise sea hungry, Ise ha nea Memory, Deliver
your Message your sel Sir.
Pet.
Be gone you Slaves, and fetch my Supper in; Rogues do I speak,
and don't you fly to make hast.
[Exit 2 or 3 Servants.
Sit down Peg and Wellcome. Why when I Pray, nay good sweet Peg be
Merry, These are Country Clownish Fellows; Prithee be Merry: Off
with my Bootes, Sirrah, you Rogues, ye Villains. When
SINGS.
It was the Orders of the Fryar Gray,
As forth he walked on his Way.
Marg.
Sure he will run himself out of Breath, and then it will be my
turn.
Petru.
Out you Rogue; You pluck my Boot awry; take that, and mend
it in pulling off the other. Be Merry Peg. Some Water here, ho;
VVhere's my Spanniel, Sarrah? Make hast and desire my Cousin Ferdinand
to come hither, one Peg you must Kiss, and be Acquainted with:
VVhere are my Slippers? Shall I have some VVater. Come, Peg, wash
and VVellcome Heartily.
Sau.
VVuns bo whare is the Meat to mack her VVelcome.
Marg.
VVe shall fall out if we wash together.
Petru.
You VVhorson Villain will you let it fall?
Marg.
Pray Sir be Patient, 'twas an unwilling Fault.
Table Cover'd. Enter Servants with Meat.
Pet.
An Idle, Careless, Beetle-headed-Slave.
Come, Peg, sit down. I know you have a Stomach.
VVill you give Thanks, Sweet Peg, or shall I?
Or each for our selves? Come, fall too,
VVhat's this, Mutton?
Saun.
Gud it is, Sir.
-- 24 --
Pet.
VVho bought it?
Cur.
I did Sir.
Pet.
You Rascal you 'tis not Mutton, 'tis the Breast of a Dog; What
Currs are these? 'tis dry'd and burn't to a Coal too, Where is this Rascal
Cook? How dare you bring such rotten Meat to my Table? Why d' ye
mean to Poyson me, ye heedless Joltheads? ye ill manner'd Whelps, what
d' ye grumble? I'll be with you straight.
Marg.
Pray Husband be content, the Meat is good Meat; and I am
very hungry, I must and will eat some of it.
Pet.
Not for the World Peg, I Love thee better then so; 'Tis burnt
and will Ingender Chollar, a Disease we are both to Subject too; I Love
thee too well to give thee any thing to hurt thee, we'll fast to night, to
morrow we'll make it up.
Marg.
Say what you will Sir, I'll eat some of it; Did you bring me
hither to Starve me?
Pet.
Why ye Rascals will ye stand Still and see your Mistriss Poyson her
self? take it away out of her sight, quickly.
[Throws the Meat at 'em, Sauny gets it.
Saun.
Gud Saundy will venture, Poyson and 'twill.
Pet.
Well Peg, this night we'll fast for Company; Come I'll bring thee
to the Bridall Chamber.
Marg.
I must Eat something, I shall be Sick else; But an Egg.
Pet.
No, no, Prithee dont talk on't; to Bed upon a full stomach.
Marg.
But a Crust of Bread.
Pet.
To morrow, to morrow; Come prithee away.
Exeunt.
Geor.
Did'st ever see the like?
Curt.
He kills her in her own Humour.
Phil.
Have you said Grace Sauny?
Saun.
Gud I was sea hungry, I forgot Grace. O thou that hast fill'd
our Boyes, and our blathers, keep us aw from Whoredome, and Secrisie.
Nick.
Secrecy, why Sauny?
Saun.
Wuns Man, it is wutchcraft, peace, you put me out with the
Deel's name to ye: Keep us aw from Whoredome and Secresie, fro the
Dinger o' the swatch to the gallow Tree, keep us aw we Beseech thee;
Tak a Drink man.
Phil.
Are ye full now Sauny?
Saun.
As fow as a Piper, ye may put ean finger in at my Mouth, and another
in mine Arse, and feel beath ends o' my Dinner.
Exeunt.
Enter as in a Bed-Chamber, Petruchio, Peg, and Servants, Sauny.
Pet.
Where are you, you Rogues? Some lights there, come Peg undress
to bed, to bed.
Marg.
Pray send your Men away, and call for some of your Maids.
Pet.
Maids, hang Maids, I have no such vermine about my house, any of
-- 25 --
these will do as well; Here Sauny come hither Sirrah, and undress your
Mistress.
Saun.
O my Saul Sir, I'se put on my head-peice; now, an ye'll bind her
hands behind her, I'se undress her.
[Goes to take up her Coats.
Pet.
What dost thou do?
Saun.
In Scotland we aw wayes begin at the nether end of a bonny
Lass.
Pet.
Who made this Bed? What Rascals are these? Foh these Sheets
are Musty as the Devil, and what Rags are here upon my Bed? Is this a
Counterpain? 'tis a Dishclout.
Marg.
Why the Counterpain is well enough, and Rich enough, and the
Sheet's are as Clean, and as Sweet as may be.
Pet.
Fye, fye, Peg, thou hast got a Cold, and lost thy Smelling, I tell
thee they are all Damp and Musty, I wou'd not have thee to venture to
Lye in 'em for the world, it wou'd be thy Death; here take 'em away, we
must ee'n sit up, there's no remedy.
Marg.
Pray Sir talk not of sitting up, I am so sleepy I cant hold my Eyes
open, I must to Bed.
Pet.
I'll keep thee waking, I warrant thee; Ho Curtis bring us a Flaggon
of March Beer, and some Tobacco, and clean Pipes, we'll be merry.
Exit. Curtus.
Marg.
Why what d' ye mean are you Mad?
Pet.
Mad? I, what should we do? I mean thou and I hand to fist,
will drink a Health to my Father, and my Sister, and all our good Friends
at London.
Enter Servant with Beer and Tobacco.
Marg.
Why you dont take me to be one of your fellow Tospots?
Pet.
I mean to Teach thee to Drink; thou must Learn that, or thou'rt
no Wife for me: Here, Peg, to thee with all my Heart, a whole one, and
thou art Wellcome; My Father's good Health, Peg, you shall Pledge it.
Marg.
I can't Drink without Eating; 'twill make me sick.
Pet.
Pish, Pish, that's but a Fancy; Come, off with it, or thou shalt neither
eat nor drink this Month.
Marg.
Shall I go to Bed when I have drank it?
Saun.
Gud at ye gi Sawndy a little Drink Madam.
Pet.
Talk of that anon.
(She Drinks.
So, here Peg, heres a Pipe I have fill'd for thee my self,
Sit down, and Light it.
Marg.
D'ye mean to make a meer Hackny Horse of me? What d'offer
me your nasty Tobacco for?
Pet.
Nay, ne're make so shy, I know thou Lov'st it: Come, young Ladies
are often troubled with the Tooth-ach, and take it in their Chambers,
though they won't appear Good Fellows amongst us: Take it, or
no Sleep nor Meat, Peg, D'ye hear.
-- 26 --
Marg.
Yes, to my Griefe; I won't be Abus'd thus.
(Weeps.)
Pet.
Nay, nay, Goe where thou wilt, I'll make thee Smoak before I
Sleep.
(Exeunt.
John Lacey [1698], Sauny the Scott: or, the Taming of the Shrew: a comedy. As it is now acted at the Theatre-Royal. Written by J. Lacey, Servant to His Majesty. And Never before Printed (Printed and Sold by E. Whitlock [etc.], London) [word count] [S32400].
