Imatges de pÓgina

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you gamut in a briefer fort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effe&tual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am pass'd my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
Bian. [reading ] Gamut I am, the ground of all ac-

Are; to plead Hortensio's paffion; [cord, Bi mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord;

Cfaut, that loves with all effection ;
D ful re, one cliff, but two notes have I,
Elami, fhow pity, or I die,

you this gamut ? tut, I like it not: Old fashions please me beft; I am not so nice To change true rules for new inventions.

Enter a Servant.
Serv. Mistrefs, your father prays you leave your

And help to dress your fifter's chamber up;
You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day.
Bian. Farewel, fweet masters, both; I must be gone,

[Exit. Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay,

[Exit. Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks he looks as tho' he were in love : Yêt if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale ; Seize thee who list; if once I find thee ranging; Hortenfio will be quit with thee by changing. Exit.

Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Catherine, Lucen-

tio, Bianca, and attendants.
Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Cath'rine and Petruchio should be married;
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.



W bat will be faid! what inockery will it be,
To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage ?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours !
Cath. No shame, but mine; I must, forsooth, be

To give my hand oppos'd againft my beart,
Unto a mad-brain rudeiby, full of spleen:
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
Hiding his bitter jeits in blunt behaviour ;
And to be noted for a merry man.
He'll woo a thoutund, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclain the banes;
Yet never means to wed, where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Catherine,
And say,,I..! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him eome and marry her.

Tra. Patience, good Catharine, and Baptifta top; Upon my life, Petruchio-means but well, IV hatever fortune stays him from his words, Tho' he be blunt, know him passing wife: Tho' he be mcrry, yet withal he's honesta Cath. Would Catherine had never seen him tho!!

(Exit, weeping: Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For fuch an injury would vex a faint, Much more a threw of thy impatient humour.

SCENE III. Enter Biondello. Bion. Mafter, master; old news, and such news aš you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may, that be?

Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming ?

Bip. Is he come? * Biou. Why, no, Sir, B.10. What then? Bion. He is coming. Bap. When will he be here? pien. When he stands where I am, and fees you



[ocr errors]

Tra. But say, what to thine old news ? ! Bion. - Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice tund; a pair of boots that have been candle-cafes, one buc:

kled, another lace'd; an old rusty sword ta'en oisi ' of the town armoury, with a broken hilt, and chopen ·less, with two broken points; his horse hipp'd

an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred ; l• fides poffefs'd with the glanders, and like to poten

the chine, troubled with the lamp:ife, infeccü ilin " the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spazi..., 'raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, liars 'fpoil'd with the ftaggers, begnawn with the bots, “ waid in the back and thoulder-fhotten, rear-legg'd • before, and with a half-chock'd bit, and a headital . of sheep's leather; which being restrain'd, to keep

him from stumbling, hath been often burk, and now repair’d with knots; one girt fix tiires piece'd, and 1 woman's

crupper of velure, which hath two letters • for her name, fairly set down in fuds, and here and " there piece'd with pack-thread.'

Bap. " Who comes with him?

Bion. Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world can • rifon'd like the horse, with a linen stock cn, one leg, • and a kersey boot-hofe on the other, garter'd with a ' red and blue.lid, an old hat, and* the burnour of yoriy

fancies prick'd up in't for a feather: a monster, a via

ry monster in apparel, and not like a ian foot. • boy, or a gentleman's lackey.'

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks hiin to this faYet-oftentimes he goes but mean apparel'd. (shion ;

Bap. I am glad he's come; howsoever he comes.
Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.
Båp. Didst thou not say, he comes?
Bion. Who? that Petruchio 'came not?
Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, Sir; I fay his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not inany.. * Sm. balad or crollery o that time is here ridiculed.


Еe 2

SC Ε Ν Ε IV. Enter Petruchio and Grumio fantastically habited. Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home! B.zp. You're welcome, Sir. Pet. And yet I come not well. Bup. And yet you halt nt. Tru. Net so well 'parell'd as I wish you were.

Pet. Wcre it better, I should rush in thus. But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride? How does my father? Gentles, methinks


frown : And wherefore gaze this goodly company, As if they saw some wondrous monument, Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Bap. Why, Sir, you know, this is your wedding-day: First, were we fad, fearing you would not come ; Now, fadder, that you come fo unprovided. Fie, doff this habit, shame to your eltate, An eye-fore to our folemn festival,

Tra. And tell us what occasion of import Hath all fo long detain'd you from your wife, And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear : Suiiceth, I am come to keep my word, Tho' in some part inforced to digress, Wlrich at more leisure I will so excuse, you

shall be well satisfied withal. But where is Kate ? I stay too long from her ; The morning wears; 'tis time we were at church.

pra. See not your bride in thefe unreverent robes; Go to my chamber, put on cloaths of mine.

Pot. Not I; believe me, thus I'll visit her.
Bp. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
Pet. Good fcoth, even thus; therefore ha' done

with words;
To me she's married, not unto my cloaths :
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As i could change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,


And feal the title with a lovely kiss.

Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
We will persuade him, be it polible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
Bap. I'll after him, and see the event of this. (Exit,

Tra. But, Sir, our love concerneth us to add
Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
As I before imparted to your worship,
I am to get a man, (whate'er he be,
It skills not much ; we'll fit him to our turn);
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
And make assurance here in Padua
Of greater sums than I have promised:
So Thall you quietly enjoy your hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

Luc. Were it not that my fellow-schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca's steps to narrowly,
'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
Which once perform’d, let all the world say, No,
I'll keep iny own, despight of all the world.

Tra. That by degrees we mean to look into.
And watch our vantage in this business :
We'll over-reach the grey-beard Gremio,
The narrow-prying father Minola,
The quaint musician amorous Licio ;
All for my master's fake, Lucentio.

SCENE VI. Enter Gremio.*;
Now, Signior Gremio, came you from the church :

Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
Tra. And is the bride and bridegroom coining

home? Gre. A bridegroom, fay you ? 'tis a groom, indeed, A grumbling groom, and that the girl thall find.

Tra. Curiter than the ? why, 'tis impoffible.
Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
Tra. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dan.

Gre. But, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio; when the priest
Should ask, if Catherine should be his wife ?


E e 3

« AnteriorContinua »