An affable and courteous Gentleman; Her name is Catharina Minola, Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue. I will not fleep, Hortenfio, 'till I fee her, Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour lafts. O' my word, an fhe knew him as well as I do, she would think fcolding would do little good upon him. She may, perhaps, call him half a score knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing; an' he begin once, he'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, Sir, an' fhe ftand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, that she shall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat: you know him not, Sir. Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee, For in Baptifta's house my Treafure is: He hath the jewel of my life in hold, His youngest Daughter, beautiful Bianca; And her with-holds he from me, and others more (For those defects I have before rehears'd,) A title for a maid of all titles the worst! Hor. Now fhall my Friend Petruchio do me grace, And offer me difguis'd in fober robes To old Baptifta as a school-mafter, Well feen in musick, to instruct Bianca; That That so I may by this device, at least, S C EN E VI. Enter Gremio, and Lucentio disguis'd. Gru. 7 Here's no knavery! fee, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Mafter, look about you: who goes there? ha. Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the Rival of my love. Gru. A proper Stripling, and an amorous. - I'll mend it with a largefs. Take your papers too, To whom they go: what will you read to her? Hor. Grumio, mum! God fave you, Signior Gremio. Gre. And you are well met, Signior Hortenfio. Trow you, whither I am going? to Baptifta Minola; 7 Here's no knavery!] See this phrafe explain'd in the first part of Henry IV. I I promis'd to enquire carefully about a fchoot-master for the fair Bianca; and by good fortune I have lighted well on this young man; for Learning and Be haviour fit for her turn, well read in Poetry, and other books, good ones, I warrant ye. Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman, So fhall I no whit be behind in duty To fair Bianca, fo belov'd of me. prove. and that my deed fhall Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love. Listen to me; and if you fpeak me fair, I'll tell you news indifferent good for either. Hortenfio, have you told him all her faults? Pet. I know, fhe is an irksome brawling Scold; If that be all, mafters, I hear no harm. Gre. No, fayeft me fo, friend? what Countryman? My Father's dead, my fortune lives for me, Gre. Oh, Sir, fuch a life with fuch a wife were But if you have a ftomach, to't, o' God's name: But will you wooe this wild cat? Pet. Will I live? Gru. Will he wooe her? ay, or I'll hang her. • Have • Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Loud larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clangue? •And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, 8 That gives not half fo great a blow to th' ear, As will a chefnut in a farmer's fire?' Tush, tufh, fear boys with bugs. Gru. For he fears none. Gre. Hortenfio, hark: This Gentleman is happily arriv'd, My mind prefumes, for his own good, and ours. Gre. And fo we will, provided that he win her. To them Tranio bravely apparell'd, and Biondello. Tra. Gentlemen, God fave you. If I may be bold, tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way to the house of Signior Baptifta Minola? Bion. He, that has the two fair Daughters? is't he you mean? Tra. Even he, Biondello. Gre. Hark you, Sir, you mean not her, to- 8 That gives not half fo great a blow to HEAR,] This aukward phrafe could never come from Shakespear. He wrote, without queftion, - so great a blow to TH' EAR. Luc. Luc. Well begun, Tranio. Hor. Sir, a word, ere you go: Are you a fuitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no? Tra. An if I be, Sir, is it any offence? Gre. No; if without more words you will get you hence. Tra. Why, Sir, I pray, are not the streets as free For me, as for you? Gre. But fo is not she. Tra. For what reason, I beseech you? Gre. For this reason, if you'll know: That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio. To whom my Father is not all unknown; Gre. What, this Gentleman will out-talk us all! Pet. Hortenfio, to what end are all these words? Did you yet ever fee Baptifta's Daughter? Pet. Sir, Sir, the firft's for me; let her go by. Pet. Sir, understand you this of me, infooth; The youngest Daughter, whom you harken for, Her |