([*footnote] This is the "Italian Edition" of the comedy. The later, superior, and more familiar Anglicised version, will be a separate Project Gutenberg etext.) DRAMATIS PERSONAE LORENZO SENIOR. PROSPERO. THORELLO. GIULIANO. LORENZO JUNIOR. STEPHANO. DOCTOR CLEMENT. BOBADILLA. BIANCHA. HESPERIDA. PETO. MUSCO. COB. MATHEO. PISO. TIB. ACT I SCENE I. ENTER LORENZO DI PAZZI SENIOR, MUSCO. LOR. SE. Now trust me, here's a goodly day toward. Musco, call up my son Lorenzo; bid him rise; tell him, I have some business to employ him in. MUS. I will, sir, presently. LOR. SE. But hear you, sirrah; If he be at study disturb him not. MUS. Very good, sir. [EXIT MUSCO.] LOR. SE. How happy would I estimate myself, Could I by any means retire my son, From one vain course of study he affects! He is a scholar (if a man may trust The liberal voice of double-tongued report) Of dear account, in all our "Academies." Yet this position must not breed in me A fast opinion that he cannot err. Myself was once a "student," and indeed Fed with the self-same humour he is now, Dreaming on nought but idle "Poetry"; But since, Experience hath awaked my spirits, [ENTER STEPHANO] And reason taught them, how to comprehend The sovereign use of study. What, cousin Stephano! What news with you, that you are here so early? STEP. Nothing: but e'en come to see how you do, uncle. LOR. SE. That's kindly done; you are welcome, cousin. STEP. Ay, I know that sir, I would not have come else: how doth my cousin, uncle? LOR. SE. Oh, well, well, go in and see; I doubt he's scarce stirring yet. STEP. Uncle, afore I go in, can you tell me an he have e'er a book of the sciences of hawking and hunting? I would fain borrow it. LOR. SE. Why, I hope you will not a hawking now, will you? STEP. No, wusse; but I'll practise against next year; I have bought me a hawk, and bells and all; I lack nothing but a book to keep it by. LOR. SE. Oh, most ridiculous. STEP. Nay, look you now, you are angry, uncle, why, you know, an a man have not skill in hawking and hunting now-a-days, I'll not give a rush for him; he is for no gentleman's company, and (by God's will) I scorn it, ay, so I do, to be a consort for every hum-drum; hang them scroyles, there's nothing in them in the world, what do you talk on it? a gentleman must shew himself like a gentleman. Uncle, I pray you be not angry, I know what I have to do, I trow, I am no novice.