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THE Taming of the Shrew.
Actus primus. Scaena Prima.
Enter Begger and Hostes, Christophero Sly.
Ile pheeze you infaith.
A paire of stockes you rogue.
Y'are a baggage, the
Slies
are no Rogues. Looke in the Chronicles, we came in with
Richard Conqueror:
therefore
Pau- cas pallabris,
let the world slide: Sessa.
You will not pay for the glasses you haue burst?
No, not a deniere: go by S[aint].
Ieronimie,
goe to thy cold bed, and warme thee.
I know my remedie, I must go fetch the Head-borough.
Third, or fourth, or fift Borough, Ile answere him by Law. Ile not budge an inch boy: Let him come, and kindly.
Falles asleepe.
Winde hornes. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his traine.
Huntsman I charge thee, tender wel my hounds, Brach
Meriman,
the poore Curre is imbost, And couple
Clowder
with the deepe-mouth'd brach, Saw'st thou not boy how
Siluer
made it good At the hedge corner, in the couldest fault, I would not loose the dogge for twentie pound.
Why
Belman
is as good as he my Lord, He cried vp . . .
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