Serv. It shall be done, my Lord; come help to bear bim [They bear off Sty.

bence.

J

1

SCENE, before Baptifta's House.

Enter Tranio, and the Pedant dreft like Vincentio.

SIR

TRANI O.

IR, this is the house, please it you, that I call? Ped. Ay, what elfe! and (but I be deceived,) Signior Baptifta may remember me

Near twenty years ago in Genoa,

Where we were lodgers, at the Pegafus. (22)

Tra. 'Tis well, and hold your own in any cafe With fuch aufterity as longeth to a father.

Enter Biondella.

Ped. I warrant you: but, Sir, here comes your boy; 'Twere good he were school'd.

Tra. Fear you not him; firrah, Biondello, Now do your duty throughly, I advise you: Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.

Bion. Tut, fear not me.

Tra. But haft thou done thy errand to Baptifta? Bion. I told him that your father was in Venice, And that you look'd for him this day in Padua. Tra. Th'art a tall fellow, hold thee that to drink; Here comes Baptifta; fet your countenance, Sir.

Enter Baptifta and Lucentio.

Tra. Signior Baptifta, you are happily met: Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of;

3

(22) Tra. Where we were lodgers at the Pegafus.] This line has in all the editions hitherto been given to Tranio. But Tranio could with no propriety fpeak this, either in his affum'd or real character. Lucentio was too young to know any thing of lodging with his father, twenty years before at Genda: And Tranio must be as much too young, or very unfit to reprefent and perfonate Lucentio. I have ventur'd to place the line to the Pedant, to whom it must certainly belong, and is a fequel of what he was before saying,

pray you ftand, good father, to me now, Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

Ped. Soft, fon. Sir, by your leave, having come to Padua
To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty caufe
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And for the good report I hear of you,
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And the to him; to ftay him not too long,
I am content in a good father's care

To have him match'd; and if you please to like
No worse than I, Sir, upon fome agreement,
Me fhall you find most ready and moft willing
With one confent to have her fo bestowed :
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well.

Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to fay:
Your plainnefs and your fhortnefs please me well.
Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter, and the loveth him,
Or both diffemble deeply their affections;
And therefore if you fay no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him,
And pafs my daughter a fufficient dowry,
The match is made, and all is done,

Your fon fhall have my daughter with confent.

Tra. I thank you, Sir. Where then do you know best, Be we affied; and fuch affurance ta'en,

As fhall with either part's agreement ftand;

Bap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know,
Pitchers have ears, and I have many fervants;
Befides, old Gremio is hearkning ftill;
And, haply, then we might be interrupted.

Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, Sir,
There doth my father lie; and there this night
We'll pass the bufinefs privately and well:
Send for your daughter by your fervant here,
My boy fhall fetch the fcrivener prefently.
The worst is this, that at fo flender warning
You're like to have a thin and flender pittance.
S 4

Вар.

Bap. It likes me well. Go, Cambio, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready ftraight:

And if you will, tell what hath happen'd here:
Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua,

And how fhe's like to be Lucentio's wife.

Luc. I pray the gods fhe may, with-all my heart! [Ex. Tra. Dally not, with the gods, but get thee gone. Signior Baptifta, fhall I lead the way? Welcome! one mefs is like to be your Come, Sir, we will better it in Pifa.

Bap. I'll follow you.

cheer.

Enter Lucentio and Biondello.

Bion. Cambio,

Luc. What fay't thou, Biondello?

[Exeunt.

Bion. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon you. Luc. Biondello, what of that?

Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but ha's left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his figns and tokens. Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.

Bion. Then thus. Baptifta is fafe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful fon.

Luc. And what of him?

Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the fupper.

Luc. And then?

Bion. The old prieft at St. Luke's church is at your command at all hours.

Luc. And what of all this?

Bion. I cannot tell, except they are bufied about a counterfeit affurance; take you affurance of her, Cum privilegio ad imprimendum folùm; to th' church take the prieft, clark, and fome fufficient honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewel for ever and a day.

Luc. Hear't thou, Biondello?

Bion I cannot tarry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parfly to ituff a rabbet; and fo may you, Sir, and fo adieu, Sir; my mafter hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the

prieft be ready to come against you come with your ap-
pendix.
[Exit

Luc. I may, and will, if the be fo contented:
She will be pleas'd, then wherefore fhould I doubt ?
Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:"
It fhall go hard, if Cambio go without her.

Pet.

SCENE, a green Lane.

Enter Petruchio, Catharina, and Hortenfio.
Ome on, o'God's name, once
our father's.

Come

[Exit.

more tow'ards

Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the moon!
Cath. The moon! the fun; it is not moon-light now.
Pet. I fay, it is the moon that shines fo bright.
Cath. I know, it is the fun that fhines fo bright.
Pet. Now by my mother's fon, and that's myself,
It fhall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house:
Go on, and fetch our horses back again.
Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft!

Hor. Say, as he fays, or we fhall never go.
Cath. Forward, I pray, fince we have come so far,
And be it moon, or fun, or what you please:
And if you please to call it a rush candle,
Henceforth I vow it fhall be fo for me.

Pet. I fay, it is the moon.

Cath. I know, it is the moon.

Pet. Nay, then you lye; it is the bleffd fun.
Cath. Then, God be bleit, it is the bieffed fun.
But fun it is not, when you fay it is not;
And the moon changes, even as your mind.
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
And fo it fhall be fo for Catharine.

Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won.

Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl should run;

And not unluckily against the bias

But foft, fome company is coming here.

1

Enter

Good-morrow, gentle miftrefs,where away? [To Vincentio.
Tell me, fweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Haft thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What flars do fpangle Heaven with fuch beauty,
As those two eyes become that heav'nly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more good-day to thee:
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's fake.

Hor. He will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.

Cath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet, Whither away, or where is thy aboad? (23) Happy the parents of fo fair a child; Happier the man, whom favourable stars

Allot thee for his lovely bedfellow!

Pet. Why, how now, Kate, I hope, thou art not mad ! This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,

And not a maiden, as, thou fay'st, he is.

Cath. Pardon, old father, my mistaken eyes; That have been so bedazled with the fun, SN That every thing I look on feemeth green. Now I perceive, thou art a reverend father: Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

он

Pet. Do, good old grandfire, and withal make known Which way thou travelleft; if along with us, We fhall be joyful of thy company.

Vin. Fair Sir, and you my merry mistress,

That with your ftrange encounter much amaz'd me;
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa;

And bound I am to Padua, there to vifit

(23) Happy the parents of so fair a child!

Happier the man, whom favourable stars

Allet thee for his lovely bedfellow!] This paffage has a great refemblance to what Ovid has made Salmacis fay of Hermaphroditus. qui te genuere beati:

Et mater faix, & fortunata profecto

Si

qua

tibi foror eft, & quæ dedit ubera nutrix:

Sed longe cunétis, longeque beatior illa eft

Si qua tibi fponfa eft, fi quam dignabere tada. Mr. Warburton.

A