Speeches (Lines) for Second Servant in "The Taming of the Shrew"

Total: 4
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# Act / Scene Speech text
1 Prologue / 2
  • Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?
  • Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?
  • First Servant. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?

    Second Servant. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?

2 Prologue / 2
  • O, this is it that makes your servants droop!
  • O, this is it that makes your servants droop!
  • Third Servant. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!

    Second Servant. O, this is it that makes your servants droop!

3 Prologue / 2
  • Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee
    straight
    Adonis painted by...
  • Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee
    straight
    Adonis painted by a running brook,
    And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
    Which seem to move and wanton with her breath
    Even as the waving sedges play wi' th' wind.
  • First Servant. Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
    As breathed stags; ay, fleeter than the roe.

    Second Servant. Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee
    straight
    Adonis painted by a running brook,
    And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
    Which seem to move and wanton with her breath
    Even as the waving sedges play wi' th' wind.

4 Prologue / 2
  • Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
    O, how we joy to see your...
  • Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
    O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!
    O, that once more you knew but what you are!
    These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
    Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.
  • Christopher Sly. Am I a lord and have I such a lady?
    Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now?
    I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
    I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things.
    Upon my life, I am a lord indeed,
    And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly.
    Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
    And once again, a pot o' th' smallest ale.

    Second Servant. Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
    O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!
    O, that once more you knew but what you are!
    These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
    Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.

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© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.