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The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare
page 7 of 120 (05%)
And how my men will stay themselues from laughter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant,
Ile in to counsell them: haply my presence
May well abate the ouer-merrie spleene,
Which otherwise would grow into extreames.
Enter aloft the drunkard with attendants, some with apparel, Bason
and
Ewer, & other appurtenances, & Lord.

Beg. For Gods sake a pot of small Ale

1.Ser. Wilt please your Lord drink a cup of sacke?
2.Ser. Wilt please your Honor taste of these Conserues?
3.Ser. What raiment wil your honor weare to day

Beg. I am Christophero Sly, call not mee Honour nor
Lordship: I ne're drank sacke in my life: and if you giue
me any Conserues, giue me conserues of Beefe: nere ask
me what raiment Ile weare, for I haue no more doublets
then backes: no more stockings then legges: nor
no more shooes then feet, nay sometime more feete then
shooes, or such shooes as my toes looke through the ouer-leather

Lord. Heauen cease this idle humor in your Honor.
Oh that a mightie man of such discent,
Of such possessions, and so high esteeme
Should be infused with so foule a spirit

Beg. What would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher
Slie, old Slies sonne of Burton-heath, by byrth a
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