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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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