The Taming of the Shrew | Scene 2 - Page 2
- SLY:
-
'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
Madam, undress you and come now to bed.(115)
- PAG:
-
Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two,
Or, if not so, until the sun be set:
For your physicians have expressly charged,
In peril to incur your former malady,(120)
That I should yet absent me from your bed:
I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
- SLY:
-
Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I
would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will
therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood.(125)
Enter a Messenger.
- MESS:
-
Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For so your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:(130)
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
- SLY:
-
Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a comontie a
Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?(135)
- PAG:
-
No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.
- SLY:
-
What, household stuff?
- PAG:
-
It is a kind of history.
- SLY:
-
Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side
and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.(140)
[Flourish]
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