Part 1

# The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 3 of 9] ### By Shakespeare, William

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_THE WORKS_

OF

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

[Illustration]

THE WORKS

OF

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

EDITED BY

WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK, M.A.

FELLOW AND TUTOR OF TRINITY COLLEGE, AND PUBLIC ORATOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE;

AND WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A.

LIBRARIAN OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

_VOLUME III._

Cambridge and London:

MACMILLAN AND CO.

1863.

CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.

CONTENTS.

PAGE The Preface vii

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW 3

Notes to The Taming of The Shrew 101

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 109

Notes to All's Well That Ends Well 215

TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL 223

Notes to Twelfth Night; or, What You Will 311

THE WINTER'S TALE 317

Notes to The Winter's Tale 429

PREFACE.

The four plays printed in this volume appeared for the first time in the Folio of 1623, and in the same order in which they are here given.

Of _The Taming of the Shrew_ alone is there any Quarto edition. The title-page of this, as it appears in Capell's copy, is as follows:

A wittie | and pleasant | Comedie | Called | _The Taming of the Shrew_. | As it was acted by his Maiesties | _Seruants at the_ Blacke Friers | _and the_ Globe. | Written by Will. Shakespeare. | LONDON, | Printed by W. S. for _John Smethwicke_, and are to be | sold at his Shop in Saint _Dunstones_ Church- | yard vnder the Diall: | 1631. |

From a minute comparison of this Quarto edition with the First Folio, extending to points which are necessarily left unrecorded in our notes, we have come to the conclusion that the Quarto was printed from the Folio. It is necessary to mention this, because Mr Collier, in the second edition of his Shakespeare, maintains that the Quarto was printed long before 1623, perhaps as early as 1607 or 1609; that its publication "had been in some way 'stayed' by the intervention of the author, on behalf of himself and the company to which he belonged; and that, having in consequence been laid aside for a number of years, some copies of it, remaining in the hands of Smithwicke the stationer, were issued in 1631, as if it had been then first published." Mr Collier also conjectures that the title-page was 'struck off long subsequent to the printing of the body of the comedy to which it is attached.' That this could not have been the case appears from an examination of Capell's copy, the only one known to us which has the title-page perfect. In this the title forms part of the first quire, and has not been inserted. The paper on which it is printed is the same as that used for the rest of the play, the wire-marks corresponding throughout. The passages from the Quarto and Folio which Mr Collier quotes in support of his theory seem to us to make strongly against it.

We have not reprinted the old play called _The Taming of a Shrew_, on which Shakespeare founded his comedy, because it is manifestly by another hand. It is referred to in the notes as (Q).

The 'Long MS.,' to which we have referred, is a copy of the Second Folio in the Library of Pembroke College, Cambridge, which was formerly in the possession of Dr Roger Long, Master of the College from 1733 to 1770. It contains marginal emendations, some from Theobald and Warburton, marked 'T.' and 'W.' respectively; some to which the initial 'L.' is affixed, and some without any initial letter at all. Such of these as could not be traced to any earlier source we have quoted as 'Long conj. MS.' or 'Long MS.' For permission to use this volume we are indebted to the kindness of the Rev. C. H. Parez.

Mr Keightley has, with great liberality, sent for our use the MS. of his forthcoming work 'The Shakespeare Expositor.' We beg to return him our best thanks.

To the number of those whom we have to thank for kind assistance we add with pleasure the names of the Rev. G. B. Bubier, the Rev. N. M. Ferrers, and Dr Meredith of Quebec.

W. G. C. W. A. W.

ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA.

_The Taming of the Shrew._

II. 1. 108. _To_] _Unto_ S. Walker conj.

IV. 1. 36, 37. _and ... thou wilt_] _is ... will thaw_ Badham conj. In note on line 37 dele _will thaw_ Anon. conj.

IV. 5. 22. Add to note, _so it shall be, so_ Mitford conj.

IV. 5. 77. _Have to_] _Have at_ Jervis conj.

_All's Well that Ends Well._

I. 1. 97. In the note, for _Williams_ read _Badham_.

II. 1. 170. _maiden's_] _maid's_ S. Walker conj.

III. 2. 108. Add to note, _move the still-reeking_ Jervis conj.

IV. 2. 38. Add to note, _make ropes ... snare or wake hopes ... scare_ Bubier conj.

IV. 3. 94. Add to note, _he has_ Steevens.

IV. 3. 96. For _he has_ read _has_, and in the note read _has_] _ha's_ Ff. _he has_ Steevens.

_The Winter's Tale._

I. 2. 147, 148. Add to note, Her. _How my lord?_ Pol. _What ... brother?_

II. 1. 40. Add to note, _drink deep_ Long MS. Mr Staunton's conjecture should be _drink deep o't_.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[1].

A Lord. } Christopher Sly, a tinker. } Persons in the Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and Servants.} Induction

BAPTISTA, a rich gentleman of Padua. _Vincentio_, an old gentleman of Pisa. _Lucentio_, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca. _Petruchio_[2], a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to Katharina.

GREMIO, } HORTENSIO,} suitors to Bianca.

TRANIO, } BIONDELLO,} servants to Lucentio.

GRUMIO[3],} CURTIS[4],} servants to Petruchio.

A Pedant.

KATHARINA, the shrew,} BIANCA, } daughters to Baptista.

Widow.

Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio.

SCENE: _Padua_, _and Petruchio's country house_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] First given by Rowe.

[2] PETRUCHIO] PETRUCIO Knight. PETRUCCIO Ritson conj.

[3] GRUMIO] GRUNNIO S. Walker conj.

[4] CURTIS] Capell.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.

INDUCTION.

## SCENE I. _Before an alehouse on a heath_.

_Enter_ HOSTESS _and_ SLY.

_Sly._ I'll pheeze you, in faith.

_Host._ A pair of stocks, you rogue!

_Sly._ Y'are 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! 5

_Host._ You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

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

_Host._ I know my remedy; I must go fetch the thirdborough. [_Exit._ 10

_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 asleep._

_Horns winded_. _Enter a_ Lord _from hunting_, _with his train_.

_Lord._ Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd; 15 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.

_First Hun._ Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; 20 He cried upon it at the merest loss And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

_Lord._ Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen such. 25 But sup them well and look unto them all: To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

_First Hun._ I will, my lord.

_Lord._ What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

_Sec. Hun._ He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale, 30 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, 35 Wrapp'd 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?

_First Hun._ Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 40

_Sec. Hun._ It would seem strange unto him when he waked.

_Lord._ Even as a flattering 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: 45 Balm his foul head in warm distilled 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 50 And with a low submissive reverence Say 'What is it your honour will command?' Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers; Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, 55 And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?' Some one 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: 60 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, 65 If it be husbanded with modesty.

_First Hun._ 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.

_Lord._ Take him up gently and to bed with him; 70 And each one to his office when he wakes. [_Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds._

Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds: [_Exit Servingman._

Belike, some noble gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

_Re-enter_ Servingman.

How now! who is it?

_Serv._ An't please your honour, players 75 That offer service to your lordship.

_Lord._ Bid them come near.

_Enter_ Players.

Now, fellows, you are welcome.

_Players._ We thank your honour.

_Lord._ Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

_A Player._ So please your lordship to accept our duty. 80

_Lord._ With all my heart. This fellow I remember, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son: 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd. 85

_A Player._ I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

_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. 90 There is a lord will hear you play to-night: But I am doubtful of your modesties; Lest over-eyeing of his odd behaviour,-- For yet his honour never heard a play,-- You break into some merry passion 95 And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile he grows impatient.

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

_Lord._ Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, 100 And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords. [_Exit one with the Players._

Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page, And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber; 105 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 accomplished: 110 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?' 115 And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom, Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restored to health, Who for this seven years hath esteemed him 120 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 convey'd 125 Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst: Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [_Exit a Servingman._ I know the boy will well usurp the grace, Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman: 130 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 135 Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

[INDUCTION.] Pope. om. Ff Q. See note (I).

[SCENE I. Before ...] Theobald. A Hedge Ale-house. Capell.

[Enter ...] Enter Begger and Hostes, Christophero Sly. Ff Q.

[1] _pheeze_] _fese_ (Q).

[2] _stocks_] F3 F4. _stockes_ F1 Q.] _stokes_ F2.

[4] _came in_] _came_ Rowe (ed. 1).

[5] _paucas_] _paucus_ F4.

[7] _Go by, Jeronimy_] _goe by Ieronimie_ Q. _go by S. Ieronimie_ Ff (_Ieronimy_ F2. _Jeronimy_ F3 F4). _go by, Jeronimo_ Theobald. '_go by_,' _says Jeronimy_ Steevens (Capell conj.). _go--by S. Jeronimy_ Knight. See note (II).

[9] _thirdborough_] Theobald. _head-borough_ Ff Q.

[10] [Exit.] Rowe. om. Ff Q.

[13] [Falls asleep.] Ff Q. Falls from off his bench, and sleeps. Capell. Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Malone.

[14] SCENE II. Pope.

Horns winded.] Winde hornes. Ff Q.

[15] _Brach_] _Leech_ Hanmer. _Bathe_ Johnson conj. _Breathe_ Mitford conj. _Brace_ Becket conj. _Trash_ Singer.

_Brach ... emboss'd_;] (_Brach_ _Merriman_, _the poor cur, is emboss'd_,) Grant White. _Brach_, _Merriman_, _the ... emboss'd_ Johnson. (_Back_ _Merriman_!--_the ... emboss'd_) Anon. conj.

[23] _better_] om. Q.

[30, 31] Printed as prose in Ff Q, as verse first by Rowe (ed. 2).

[37] _bed_] _side_ Anon. conj.

[41, 42] _waked_. Lord. _Even_ ... _fancy_. _Then_] _waked_, _Even_ ... _fancy_. Lord. _Then_ Anon. conj.

[46] _Balm_ ... _head_] _Bath_ ... _hide_ Capell conj.

_in_] _with_ Rowe (ed. 2).

[55] _the third_] _a third_ Rowe.

[62] _And_ ... _he is_,] Ff Q. _And when_ _he says he is poor_, Rowe (ed. 1). _And_ ... _he's poor_, Rowe (ed. 2). _And_ ... _he is_,--Theobald. _And_ ... _he's Sly_, Johnson conj. _And when he says what he is_, Long conj. MS. _When he says what_ _he is_, Collier MS. _And what he says_ _he is_, Jackson conj. _And when he_ _says who he is_, Anon. ap. Halliwell conj. See note (III).

[67] _we will_] _we'll_ Rowe (ed. 2).

[71] [Some bear out Sly.] Theobald. om. Ff Q.

A trumpet sounds.] Sound trumpets. Ff Q.

[72] [Exit S.] Ex. Servant. Theobald. om. Ff Q.

[75] SCENE III. Pope.

Re-enter ...] Enter ... Ff Q.

[75, 76] _An't ... players That_] Ff Q.

_Please your honour, players That_ Pope.

_An it ... Players that_ Malone.

[76] _That offer_] _That come to offer_ Capell. _That offer humble_ Collier MS.

[77] Enter P.] Ff Q, after line 76.

[80] A Player.] Edd. 2. Player. Ff Q.

[85] _fitted_] _fit_ S. Walker conj.

[86] A Player.] Sincklo. F1 Q. Sin. F2. Sim. F3 F4. 1. P. Capell. See note (IV).

[98] A Player.] Plai. F1 F2. Play. Q. Pla. F3 F4. 1. P. Capell.

[99] See note (v).

[101] _And ... one_] omitted by Rowe.

[103] _Barthol'mew_] _Bartholmew_ Ff Q. _Bartholomew_ Rowe.

[108] _bear_] F3 F4. _beare_ F1 F2. _bare_ Q.

[ Linenote 112] _soft low_] _soft slow_ Malone conj.

[113] _will_] _doth_ Q.

[120] _this seven_] _these seven_ Rowe (ed. 2). _twice seven_ Theobald.

_him_] _himself_ Rowe.

[125] _being ... convey'd_] (_being ... convei'd_) Ff Q.

[133] _peasant._] Johnson. _peasant_, Ff Q. _peasant_; Rowe.

[135] _the_] _their_ Collier (Collier MS.).

## Scene II. _A bedchamber in the_ Lord's _house._

_Enter aloft_ SLY, _with_ Attendants; _some with apparel_, _others with_ _basin and ewer and other appurtenances_, _and_ Lord.

_Sly_. For God's sake, a pot of small ale.

_First Serv_. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?

_Sec. Serv_. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?

_Third Serv._ What raiment will your honour wear to-day?

_Sly._ I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor 5 'lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and 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 10 my toes look through the overleather.

_Lord._ 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 infused with so foul a spirit! 15

_Sly._ What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me 20 not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not bestraught: here's--

_Third Serv._ O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!

_Sec. Serv._ O, this is it that makes your servants droop! 25

_Lord._ 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. 30 Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays, [_Music._ And twenty caged nightingales do sing: Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch 35 Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground: Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd, Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. 40 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.

_First Serv._ Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift 45 As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.

_Sec. Serv._ 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, 50 Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

_Lord._ We'll show thee Io as she was a maid And how she was beguiled and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done.

_Third Serv._ Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood, 55 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.

_Lord._ Thou art a lord and nothing but a lord: Thou hast a lady far more beautiful 60 Than any woman in this waning age.

_First Serv._ And till the tears that she hath shed for thee Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face, She was the fairest creature in the world; And yet she is inferior to none. 65

_Sly._ Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? or have I dream'd 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 70 And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly. Well, bring our lady hither to our sight; And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

_Sec. Serv._ Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? O, how we joy to see your wit restored! 75 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.

_Sly._ These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? 80

_First Serv._ 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, 85 Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts: Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

_Sly._ Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

_Third Serv._ Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid, Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up, 90 As Stephen Sly and old John Naps of Greece And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell And twenty more such names and men as these Which never were nor no man ever saw.

_Sly._ Now Lord be thanked for my good amends! 95

_All._ Amen.

_Sly._ I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by it.

_Enter the_ Page _as a lady_, _attended_.

_Page._ How fares my noble lord?

_Sly._ Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? 100

_Page._ Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?

_Sly._ Are you my wife and will not call me husband? My men should call me 'lord:' I am your good-man.

_Page._ My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. 105

_Sly._ I know it well. What must I call her?

_Lord._ Madam.

_Sly._ Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?

_Lord._ 'Madam,' and nothing else: so lords call ladies.

_Sly._ Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd 110 And slept above some fifteen year or more.

_Page._ Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

_Sly._ 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone. Madam, undress you and come now to bed. 115

_Page._ Thrice-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, 120 That I should yet absent me from your bed: I hope this reason stands for my excuse.

_Sly._ Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood. 125

_Enter a_ Messenger.

_Mess._ 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 congeal'd your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy: 130 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.

_Sly._ Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a comonty a Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick? 135

_Page._ No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.

_Sly._ What, household stuff?

_Page._ It is a kind of history.

_Sly._ Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger. 140

_Flourish._

LINENOTES:

[SCENE II.] Capell. SCENE IV. Pope. A ... house.] Theobald.