To hold my stirrup, nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

All Serv. Here, here, sir; here, sir.

Pet. Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!-
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?.
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

Gru. Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

Pet. You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!

Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,

And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?

Gru. Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made; And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel; There was no link to colour Peter's hat,"

"Out of my sight, I say, and bear it hence.
"Come, Kate, wee 'l have other meate provided;
"Is there a fire in my chamber, sir?

"San. I, forsooth.

[Exeunt Feran. and Kate. "Manent serving men, and eate up all the meate. "Tom. Sownes, I thinke of my conscience my master 's madde since he was married.

"Will. I laft what a box he gave Sander

"For pulling off his bootes?

"Enter Ferando again.

"San, I hurt his foot for the nonce, man. "Feran. Did you so, you damned villaine?

[He beates them all out again.

"This humour must I hold me to a while,
"To bridle and holde back my head-strong wife,
"With curbes of hunger, ease, and want of sleepe:
"Nor sleep nor meate shall she enjoy to-night;
"Ile mew her up as men do mew their hawkes,
"And make her gently come unto the lewre:
"Were she as stubborne, or as full of strength
"As was the Thracian horse Alcides tamde,
"That king Egeus fed with flesh of men,

"Yet would I pull her downe and make her come, "As hungry hawkes do flie unto their lewre."

[Exis Steevens.

5 at door,] Door is here, and in other places, used as a dissyllable. Malone."

6 — no link to colour Peter's hat,] A link is a torch of pitch. Greene, in his Mihil Mumchance, says " This cozenage is used likewise in selling old hats found upon dung-hills, instead of newe, blackt over with the smoake of an old linke." Steevens.

And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing: There were none fine, but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory; The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;

Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you. Pet. Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.[Exeunt some of the Servants.

[Sings.

Where is the life that late I led1
Where are those- -Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
Soud, soud, soud, soud!

Re-enter Servants, with supper.

Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry. Off with my boots, you rogues, you villains; When? It was the friar of orders grey,9

As he forth walked on his way :—

[Sings.

Where &c.] A scrap of some old ballad. Ancient Pistol elsewhere quotes the same line. In an old black letter book, entitled A gorgious Gallery of gallant Inventions, London, 1578, 4to. is a song to the tune of Where is the life that late I led? Ritson.

This ballad was peculiarly suited to Petruchio's present situation: for it appears to have been descriptive of the state of a lover who had newly resigned his freedom. In an old collection of Sonnets, entitled A handeful of pleasant Delites, containing sundrie new Sonets, &c. by Clement Robinson, 1584, is "Dame Beautie's replie to the lover late at libertie, and now complaineth himselfe to be her captive, intituled Where is the life that late I led:

"The life that erst thou led'st my friend,

"Was pleasant to thine eyes," &c. Malone.

* Soud, soud, &c.] That is, sweet, sweet. Soot, and sometimes sooth, is sweet. So, in Milton, to sing soothly, is to sing sweetly. Johnson.

So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578:

"He'll hang handsome young men for the soote sinne of

love." Steevens.

These words seem merely intended to denote the humming of a tune, or some kind of ejaculation, for which it is not necessary to find out a meaning. M. Mason.

This, I believe, is a word coined by our poet, to express the noise made by a person heated and fatigued. Malone.

9 It was the friar of orders grey,] Dispersed through Shakspeare's plays are many little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which cannot now be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simplicity, Dr. Percy has selected some of them, and connected them together with a few supplemental stanzas; a work, which at once demonstrates his own poetical abilities, as well as his respect to the truly venerable remains of our most ancient bards. Steevens.

Out, out, you rogue!1 you pluck my foot awry:
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.

[Strikes him. Be merry, Kate: Some water, here; what, ho!Where's my spaniel Troilus?-Sirrah, get you hence, And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:2

[Exit Serv. One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with.— Where are my slippers?-Shall I have some water? [A bason is presented to him.

Come, Kate, and wash,3 and welcome heartily:

[Serv. lets the ewer fall.

1 Out, out, you rogue!] The second word was inserted by Mr. Pope, to complete the metre. When a word occurs twice in the same line, the compositor very frequently omits one of them.

Malone.

2 And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:] This cousin Ferdinand, who does not make his personal appearance on the scene, is mentioned, I suppose for no other reason than to give Katharine a hint, that he could keep even his own relations in order, and make them obedient as his spaniel Troilus. Steevens.

3 Come, Kate, and wash,] It was the custom in our author's time, (and long before) to wash the hands immediately before dinner and supper, as well as afterwards. So, in Ives's Select Papers, p. 139: "And after that the Queen [Elizabeth, the wife of King Henry VII] was retourned and washed, the Archbishop said grace." Again, in Florio's Second Frutes, 1591: "C. The meate is coming, let us sit downe. S. I would wash first -. What ho, bring us some water to wash our hands.-Give me a faire, cleane and white towel." From the same dialogue it appears that it was customary to wash after meals likewise, and that setting the water on the table was then (as at present) peculiar to Great Britain and Ireland: "Bring some water (says one of the company) when dinner is ended, to wash our hands, and set the bacin upon the board, after the English fashion, that all may wash."

That it was the practice to wash the hands immediately before supper, as well as before dinner, is ascertained by the following passage in The Fountayne of Fame, erected in an Orcharde of amorous Adventures, by Anthony Mundy, 1580: "Then was our supper brought up very orderly, and she brought me water to washe my handes. And after I had washed, I sat downe, and she also; but concerning what good cheere we had, I need not make good report. Malone.

As our ancestors eat with their fingers, which might not be over-clean before meals, and after them must be greasy, we eannot wonder at such repeated ablutions. Steevens.

You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? [Strikes him. Kath. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling. Pet. A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave! Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I?— What is this? mutton?

Pet. 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat:

What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook?
How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
And serve it thus to me that love it not?

There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all:
[Throws the meat,

c. about the stage,
You heedless joltheads, and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
Kath. I pray, you, husband, be not so disquiet;
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
Pet. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away;
And I expressly am forbid to touch it,

For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere, that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are cholerick,-
'Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; to-morrow it shall be mended,
And, for this night, we 'll fast for company:-
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.

[Exeunt. PET. KATH. and CURT. Nath. [advancing] Peter, didst ever see the like? Peter. He kills her in her own humour.

Re-enter CURTIS.

Gru. Where is he?

Curt. In her chamber,

Making a sermon of continency to her:

And rails, and swears, and rates; and she, poor soul, Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak; And sits as one new-risen from a dream.

Away, away! for he is coming hither.

Re-enter PETRUCHIO.

Pet. Thus have I politickly begun my reign,

And 'tis my hope to end successfully:

[Exeunt.

My falcon now is sharp, and passing empty;
And, till she stoop, she must not be full-gorg'd,“
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,5

To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites,

7

That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient.

She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;

Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
As with the meat, some undeserved fault

I'll find about the making of the bed;

And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets:—
Ay, and amid this hurly, I intend,

That all is done in reverend care of her;

And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night:
And, if she chance to nod, I'll rail, and brawl,

-full-gorg'd, &c.] A hawk too much fed was never tractable. So, in The Tragedie of Crasus, 1604:

"And like a hooded hawk, gorg'd with vain pleasures, "At random flies, and wots not where he is."

Again, in The Booke of Haukyng, bl. 1. no date:

66

- ye shall say your hauke is full-gorg'd, and not cropped." The lure was only a thing stuffed like that kind of bird which the hawk was designed to pursue. The use of the lure was to tempt him back after he had flown. Steevens.

5

to man my haggard,] A haggard is a wild-hawk; to man a hawk is to tame her. Johnson.

6 • watch her, as we watch these kites,] Thus, in the same book of Haukyng, &c. bl. 1. commonly called The Book of St. Albans: "And then the same night after the teding, wake her all night, and on the morrowe all day."

Again, in The Lady Errant, by Cartwright: "We'll keep you as they do hawks; watching you until you leave your wildness.

Steevens.

7 That bate,] i. e. flutter. So, in King Henry IV, P. I: "Bated like eagles having lately bath'd." Steevens. To bate is to flutter as a hawk does when it swoops upon its prey. Minshieu supposes it to be derived either from batre, Fr. to beat, or from s'abatre, to descend. Malone.

8

amid this hurly, I intend,] Intend is sometimes used by our author for pretend, and is, I believe, so used here. So, in King Richard III:

"Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,
Intending deep suspicion. Malone.