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ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here | Our means will make us means. to-night I shall beseech your lordship, to remain Gent. This I'll do for you. with me till they meet together. Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse again ;— Go, go, provide. [Exeunt.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted.

Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet.

Re-Enter Clown.

Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonadoed face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street. Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night,
Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it;
But since you have made the days and nights as one,
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time ;-
Enter a gentle Astringer.

This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you, sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.

Gent. I have been sometimes there.

Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful.

Gent.

What's your will? Hel. That it will please you

To give this poor petition to the king;

And aid me with that store of power you have,

To come into his presence.

Gent. The king's not here.

Hel.

Not here, sir?

Gent. Not, indeed: He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste Than is his use.

Wid.

Lord, how we lose our pains!
Hel. All's well that ends well; yet;
Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.-
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.

Hel.
I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,
Commend this paper to his gracious hand;
Which I presume, shall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it:
I will come after you, with what good speed

SCENE II.--Rousillon. The inner Court of the

Countess's Palace.

Enter Clown and PAROLLES.

Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Pry'thee, get thee further.

Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away; A paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.

Enter LAFEU.

Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean died withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is mudrascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.

Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then. -Cox' my passion! give me your hand! How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me. Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

The same. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, &c.

King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Was made much poorer by it: but your son,

As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home.

Count.

'Tis past, my liege:
And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.
King.

My honour'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

Laf.
This I must say,-
But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly call'd mistress.

King. Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear.

[hither ;Well, call him

We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill

All repetition :-Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury

The incensing relics of it: let him approach

A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent. I shall, my liege.

[Exit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?

Laf.

Enter BERTRAM.

Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters That set him high in fame. [sent me, He looks well on't. King. I am not a day of season, For thou may'st see a sun-shine and a hail In me at once: But to the brightest beams Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth, The time is fair again.

Ber.

My high-repented blames, Dear sovereign, pardon to me. King.

All is whole;

Not one word more of the consumed time.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can effect them: You remember
The daughter of this lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue :
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

King. Well excus'd: That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away From the great compt: But love, that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offence, Crying, That's good that's gone: our rash faults Make trivial price of serious things we have, Not knowing them, until we know their grave: Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,

Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin :
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay,
To see our widower's second marriage-day.

Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven Or, ere they meet in me, O nature, cease! [bless!

Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name Must be digested, give a favour from you, To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, That she may quickly come.-By my old beard, And every hair that's on 't, Helen, that 's dead, Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this, The last that e'er I took her leave at court, I saw upon her finger. Ber.

Hers it was not.

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I have seen her wear it; and she reckon❜d it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
I am sure, I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it :
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science, Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know That you are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety, That she would never put it from her finger, Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, (Where you have never come,) or sent it us Upon her great disaster.

Ber. She never saw it.

[nour;

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine hoAnd mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove so ;And yet I know not :-thou didst hate her deadly, And she is dead; which nothing, but to close Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, More than to see this ring.-Take him away.[Guards seize BERTRAM. My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Shall tax my fears of little vanity, Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with him ;We'll sift this matter further.

Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Exit BERTRAM, guarded.

Enter a Gentleman.

King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not; Here's a petition from a Florentine. Who hath, for four or five removes, come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know, Is here attending: her business looks in her With an important visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself.

me.

King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won Now is the count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: Grant it me, Ő king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor DIANA CAPULET. Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him for this, I'll none of him.

maid is undone.

:

King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors :Go, speedily, and bring again the count.

[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd.

Count.

Now, justice on the doers! Enter BERTRAM, guarded.

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that?

Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA.
Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capulet;
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy. [women?
King. Come hither, count; Do you know these
Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny
But that I know them: Do they charge me further?
Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
Dia.
If you shall marry,
You give away this hand, and that is mine;
You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
You give away myself, which is known mine;
For I by vow am so embodied yours,
That she, which marries you, must marry me,
Either both or none.

Laf. Your reputation [to BERTRAM.] comes too short for my daughter, you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highLay a more noble thought upon mine honour, [ness Than for to think that I would sink it here.

King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend,

Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your honour, Than in my thought it lies!

Dia.

Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?

Ber.

She's impudent, my lord;

And was a common gamester to the camp.

Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, He might have bought me at a common price: Do not believe him: O, behold this ring, Whose high respect, and rich validity, Did lack a parallel: yet, for all that, He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, If I be one.

Count.

Methought, you said,

He blushes, and 'tis it: Of six preceding ancestors, that gem Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife; That ring's a thousand proofs. King. You saw one here in court could witness it. So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles. Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. King. Find him, and bring him hither. Ber.

:

What of him?

He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth:
Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?
King.
She hath that ring of yours.
Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I lik'd her,
And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her insuit coming with her modern grace,
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.

Dia.

I must be patient; You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife, May justly diet me. I pray you yet, (Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,) Send for your ring, I will return it home, And give me mine again.

Ber.

I have it not.

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Dia. King. Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge Not fearing the displeasure of your master, [you, (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) By him, and by this woman here, what know you' ?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
King. How, I pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a

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King. As thou art a knave, and no knave :What an equivocal companion is this?

Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's

command.

Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty

orator.

Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.--Stay, royal sir; [Exit Widow.

The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord, Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd; Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. And at that time he got his wife with child: King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick; Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go between So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick; them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her,-And now behold the meaning. for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill-will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I

know.

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou
canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in
thy evidence; therefore stand aside.-
This ring, you say, was yours?
Dia.
Ay, my good lord.
King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?
Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
King. Who lent it you?
Dia.

It was not lent me neither.
King. Where did you find it then?
Dia.
I found it not.
King. If it were yours by none of all these ways,
How could you give it him?
Dia.

I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure.

King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife.
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I know.
King. Take her away, I do not like her now;
To prison with her and away with him.-
Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
Thou diest within this hour.
Dia.

I'll never tell you.

King. Take her away.
Dia.
I'll put in bail, my liege.
King. I think thee now some common customer.
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this

while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty :
He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.

[Pointing to LAFEU. King. She does abuse our ears;, to prison with her.

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King.

Re-enter Widow, with HELENA.

Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?
No, my good lord;
'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
The name, and not the thing.
Ber.

Hel.

Both, both; O, pardon!
Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid,
I found you wond'rous kind. There is your ring,
And, look you, here's your letter; This it says,
When from my finger you can get this ring,
And are by me with child, &c.-This is done:
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. [clearly.
Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce step between me and you!-
O, my dear mother, do I see you living?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon:-Good Tom Drum, [to PAROLLES.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

King. Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow :-
If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, [To DIANA.
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
For I can guess, that, by thy honest aid,
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.—
Of that and all the progress, more and less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express :
All yet seems well; and, if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [Flourish.

(Advancing.)

The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content; which we will pay,
With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;
Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [Exeunt.

THIS play has many delightful scenes, though not sufficiently probable, and some happy characters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare.

I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen

as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood and is dismissed to happiness.

The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time.-JOHNSON.

MR. MALONE supposes this comedy to have been written in 1596. It is founded on an anonymous play of nearly the same title, "The Taming of a Shrew," which was probably written about the year 1590, either by George Peele, or Robert Green. The outline of the induction may be traced, as Mr. Douce observes, through many intermediate copies, to the Sleeper Awaked of the Arabian Nights. It has been doubted by Dr. Warburton and Dr. Farmer whether this comedy is really the production of Shakspeare. They have no other grounds for

their opinion, but the inferiority of its style. The play, as a whole, is certainly not in our author's best manner, but in the induction and in the scenes between Katharine and Petruchio the traces of his hand are strongly marked. If it be not Shakspeare's, to whom can it be attributed? Beaumont and Fletcher have written a sequel to this comedy, called The Woman's Prize, or the Tamer Tamed," in which a character bearing the name of Petruchio (for nothing but the name remains to him,) is subdued by a second wife.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

A LORD.

CHRISTOPHER SLY, a drunken Tinker.
Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen,

and other Servants attending on
the Lord.

BAPTISTA, a rich gentleman of Padua.
VINCENTIO, an old gentleman of Pisa.

Persons in the
Induction.

LUCENTIO, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
PETRUCHIO, a gentleman of Verona, suitor to Katharina.
GREMIO, HORTENSIO, suitors to Bianca.
TRANIO, BIONDELLO, servants to Lucentio.
GRUMIO, CURTIS, servants to Petruchio.

Pedant, an old fellow set up to personate Vincentio.

KATHARINA, the shrew; daughters to Baptista.
BIANCA, her sister,

Widow.

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

SCENE,-sometimes in PADUA; and sometimes in
PETRUCHIO'S House in the Country.

INDUCTION.

SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter Hostess and SLY.

Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith.
Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!
Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues:
Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard
Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris; let the
world slide: Sessa!

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have

burst!

Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy ;Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough. [Exit. 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.

[Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Wind horns. Enter a LORD from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.

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Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth

he breathe?

[with ale, 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd 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,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he
wak'd.

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 :
Balm his foul head with 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,
And, with a low submissive reverence,
Say,-What is it your honour will command?
Let one attend him with a silver bason,
Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say-Will't please your lordship cool your
Some one be ready with a costly suit, [hands?
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.

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, As he shall think, by our true diligence,

Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my He is no less than what we say he is.

hounds:

Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd,
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.

Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him ; 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 Servant Belike, some noble gentleman: that means,

1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

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