Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, Sir? what may I call your name? Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his sake. Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too : Baccare! you are marvellous forward. Pet. O pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing. Gre. I doubt it not, Sir; but you will curse your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, I freely give unto you this young scholar, [Presenting LUCENTIO.] that hath been long studying at Rheins; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and mathematics: bis name is Cambio; pray, accept his service. Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio.-But, gentle Sir, [To TRANIO methinks, you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming? Tru. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine That, being a stranger in this city here, Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo, And this small packet of Greek and Latin books: If you accept them, then their worth is great. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, pray? Tra. Of Pisa, Sir; son to Vincentio. You shall go see your pupils presently. Sirrah, lead Enter a SERVANT. These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them both, These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit SERVANT, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO. We will go walk a little in the orchard, And every day I cannot come to woo. And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns. Pet. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of Her widowhood,-be it that she survive me,In all my lands and leases whatsoever : Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand, Bop. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, This is, her love; for that is all in all. • A proverbial exclamation then in use. Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; Though little fire grows great with little wind, But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. That shake not, though they blow perpetually. Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale? Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good musician? Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier ; Iron may hold with her, but never lntes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute ? Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me. I did but tell her, she mistook her frets, And, with that word, she struck me on the head, As she had studied to misuse me so. Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did: Oh! how I long to have some chat with her! Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so dis comfited: Proceed in practice with my younger daughter; And woo her with some spirit when she comes. But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak. Kath. Well have you heard, but something bard of bearing: They call me--Katharine, that do talk of me. Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain For, knowing thee to be but young and light,— Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Kath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come you wasp; i'faith, you are too angry. Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting? In his tail. Kath. In his tongue. Kath. Your's, if you talk of tails; and so farewell. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate: I am a gentleman. [Striking him. Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again. If you strike me, you are no gentleman: Pet. A herald, Kate ? O put me in thy books. Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven. Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sout. Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab. Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour. Kath. There is, there is. Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will ; O slanderous world! Kate, like the harle twiL. Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove, Kath. Where did you study all this goody speech? Pet. It is extempore from my mother wit. Kath. A witty mother! witless else her sund. Pet. Am I not wise? Kath. Yes; keep you warm. Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine in thy bed; And therefore, setting all this chat aside, That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed Signior Petruchio: How speed you with Pet. How but well, Sir? bow but well f Kath. Call you nie, daughter? now I pomise you, You have show'd a tender fatherly regard, world, That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of ber; For she's not froward, but modest as the dore; That upon Sunday is the wedding-dar. Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then god night our part! Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself; If she and be pleas'd, what's that to you ! To vie and revye were terms at reede, wow cynet seded by the word brag. It is well word wring A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew. Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match. nesses. Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen adieu; [Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINE, severally. Gre. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly? And venture madly on a desperate mart. Tro. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: Bap. The gain I seek is-quiet in the match. Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love so dear Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze. Gre. But thine doth fry. Skipper, stand back: 'tis age, that nourisheth. Than three great argosies; besides two gallias- Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied. Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best; Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young. Bap. Well, gentlemen, [know, you am thus resolv'd ;-On Sunday, next, And so I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit. Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.-Now I fear thee not; Sirrab, young gamester, your father were a fool Yet I have facer, it with a card of ten. + Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flou-Must get a father, call'd-suppos'd Vincentio; risheth. Bap. Content you, gentlemen: I'll compouud 'Tis deeds, must win the prize; and he, of both, Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her ? Is richly furnished with plate and gold; ture. What, have I pinch'd you, signior Gremio ? land! And that's a wonder: fathers, commonly, A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my enn- ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in BAPTISTA'S House. Have you so soon forgot the entertainment far To know the cause why music was ordain'd! Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double Wrong, To strive for that which resteth in my choice: My land amounts not to so much in all: inent. Luc. That will be never;-tune your instru-1 To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale,• Bian. Where left we last? Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus ; Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,-Simois, 1 am Lucentio,-hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa,-Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love-Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing,-Priami, is my man Tranio,-regia, bearing my port,-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon. Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. Bian. Let's hear;O fie! the treble jars. [Returning. [HORTENSIO plays. Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not :-Hic steterat Priami, take heed be hear us not ;-regia, presume not; -celsa senis, despair not. Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune. Hor. The bass is right; 'tis the base knave that jars. How fiery and forward our pedant is ! Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. I should be arguing still upon that doubt: My lessons make no music in three parts. And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'á, [Aside. SCENE II.-The same.-Before BAPTISTA's House. Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATE: RINE, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants. Bap. Signior Lucentio, [To TRANTO.] this s the 'pointed day That Katharine and Petruchio should be And yet we hear not of our son-in-law : To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage ! be forc'd To give my band, oppos'd against my heart, sure. I told you, 1, he was a frantic fool, Yet never means to wed where be hath won't you there. 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 turned; a pair of boots that have been candlecases, one buckled, another faced: m old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken bilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse bipped with an oid mothy saddle, the s'irrups of no kindred: be sides, possessed with the glanders, and hike to mose in the chine; troubled with the tampass, infected with the fashions, full of wind gas, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the sag gers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er-legged before, and with a balf-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots; one girt six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread. Bap. Who comes with him? Bion. O Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse; with a linen stock + on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel; and not like a Christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey. Tru. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion ; Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd. Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he comes. Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not. Bap. Didst thou not say, he comes? Bion. Who? that Petruchio caine? Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came. When I should bid good-morrow to my bride, [Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMI0, and Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire: We will persuade him, be it poscible, To put on better ere he go to church. Bap. I'll after him and see the event of this. [Brit. Tra. But,Sir, to her 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 shall you quietly enjoy your hope, And marry sweet Bianca with consent. Luc. Were it not that my fellow-school-mas ter Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, 'Twere good, methinks, to steal our narriage; Which once perform'd, let all the world say no, I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world. Bion. No, Sir; I say, his horse comes with And watch our vantage in this business : him on his back. We'll over-reach the grey beard, Gremio, Re-enter GREM10. Signior Gremio! came you from the church? Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school. Tra. And is the bride and bridegroot coming home ? Gre. A bridegroom, say you? 'tis a groom, indeed, A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find Tra. Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible. Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very tend. Tru. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. Gre. Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him. I'll tell you, Sir Lucentto; When the priest That, all auaz'd, the priest let fall the book : The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff, That down fell priest and book, and book and priest; Now take them up, quoth he, if any list. Tra. What said the wench when he arose again? Gre. Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd, and swore, As if the vicar meant to cozen him. But after many ceremonies done, But that his beard grew thin and hungerly, This done, be took the bride about the neck; And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack, That, at the parting, all the church did echo. • Marters. [Music. + Strange. 1 It was the custom for the company present to drink wine immediately after the marriage-ceremony. |