Ped. Sir, at the fartheft for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life.
Tra. What countryman, I pray ?

Ped. Of Mantua.

Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid !

And come to Padua, careless of your life?

Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard. Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua. To come to Padua; know you not the cause? Your fhips are ftaid at Venice, and the Duke (For private quarrel 'twixt your Duke and him,) Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly: 'Tis marvel, but that you're but newly come, You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about. Ped. Alas, Sir; it is worse for me than so; For I have bills for money by exchange From Florence, and muft here deliver them. Tra. Well, Sir, to do you courtesy, This will I do, and this will I advife you; First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa? Ped. Ay, Sir, in Pifa have I often been Pifa, renowned for grave citizens.

Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio?
Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him

A merchant of incomparable wealth.

Tra. He is my father, Sir; and, footh to say,

In count'nance fomewhat doth resemble you.

Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.

Tra. To fave your life in this extremity,

This favour will I do you for his fake;
And think it not the worst of all your fortunes,
That you are like to Sir Vincentio :

His name and credit fhall you undertake,
And in my houfe you shall be friendly lodg'd:
Look, that you take upon you as you should.
You understand me, Sir: fo fhall you stay,
'Till you have done your business in the city.
If this be court'fy, Sir, accept of it.

[Afide.

Ped.

Ped. Oh, Sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.

Tra. Then go with me to make the matter good:
This by the way I let you understand,
My father is here look'd for every day,
To pafs affurance of a dower in marriage
"Twixt me and one Baptifta's daughter here:
In all thefe circumftances I'll inftruct you :
Go with me, Sir, to cloath you as becomes you.

Enter Catharina and Grumio.

[Exeunt,

Gru. No, no, forfooth, I dare not for my life.
Cath. The more my wrong, the more his fpite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?

Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon intreaty, have a prefent alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,

Nor never needed that I fhould intreat,

Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of fleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;

And that, which fpites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love :

As who would fay, If I should fleep or eat
"Twere deadly fickness, or elfe prefent death:
I pr'ythee go, and get me fome repaft;

I care not what, fo it be wholfome food.
Gru, What fay you to a neat's foot?

Catb. 'Tis paffing good; I pr'ythee, let me have it.
Gru. I fear, it is too flegmatick a meat:

How fay you to a fat tripe finely broil❜d ?

Cath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru. I cannot tell;

- I fear, it's cholerick:

What fay you to a piece of beef and mustard à
Cath. A dith, that I do love to feed upon.
Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest.
Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard,

Or

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
Gru. Why, then the muftard without the beef.
Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding flave,
[Beats him.

That feed'ft me with the very name of meat:
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you,
That triumph thus upon my mifery!
Go, get thee gone, I fay.

Enter Petruchio and Hortenfio, with meat.

Pet. How fares my Kate? what, Sweeting, all amort? Hor. Miftrefs, what cheer?

Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look cheerfully upon me; Here, love, thou feeft how diligent I am,

To drefs thy meat myfelf, and bring it thee:
I'm fure, fweet Kate, this kindnefs merits thanks.
What, not a word? nay then, thou lov'ft it not:
And all my pains is forted to no proof.
Here, take away the dish.

Cath. I pray you let it ftand.

Pet. The pooreft fervice is repaid with thanks,
And fo fhall mine, before you touch the meat.
Cath. I thank you, Sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fy, you are to blame:
Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou loveft me;

Much good do it unto thy gentle heart;
Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey-love,
Will we return unto thy father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,

[Afide

With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals, and things:
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, haft thou din'd? the taylor ftays thy leifure,
To deck thy body with his ruftling treasure.

VOL. II.

Enter

Enter Taylor.

Come, taylor, let us see these ornaments.

Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir?
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did befpeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer,
A velvet dish; fy, fy, 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnut-fhell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time;
And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as these.

Pet. When you are gentle, you fhall have one too, And not 'till then.

Hor. That will not be in hafte.

Cath. Why, Sir, I truft, I may have leave to fpeak, And fpeak I will. I am no child, no babe; Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind; And, if you cannot, beft you ftop your ears. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, Or, elfe my heart, concealing it, will break: And rather than it fhall, I will be free. Even to the utmoft as I please in words.

Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true, it is a paltry cap. A cuftard-coffin, a bauble, a filken pie;

I love thee well, in that thou lik'ft it not.

Cath, Love me, or love me not, I like the cap; And I will have it, or I will have none.

Pel. Thy gown? why, ay; come, taylor, let us fee't. O mercy, heav'n, what mafking ftuff is here? What? this a fleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon; What, up and down carv'd like an apple-tart? Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flish, and flash, Like, to a cenfer in a barber's fhop:

Why, what a devil's name, taylor, call'st thou this?

Hor.

Hor. I fee, fhe's like to've neither cap nor gown.

Tay. You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion of the time.

[Afide

Pet. Marry, and did: but if you be remembred, I did not bid you mar it to the time. Go, hop me over every kennel home, For you fhall hop without my custom, Sir: I'll none of it; hence, make your best of it. Cath. I never faw a better-fashion'd gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable: Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me,

Pet. Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee. Tay. She fays, your Worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet. Oh moft monftrous arrogance!

Thou lyeft, thou thread, thou thimble,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket, thou!
Brav'd in mine own houfe with a skein of thread:
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
Or I fhall fo be-mete thee with thy yard,
As thou shalt think on prating whilft thou liv'ft:
I tell thee, I, that thou haft marr'd her gown.
Tay. Your Worship is deceiv'd, the gown is made
Juft as my mafter had direction.

Grumio gave order how it fhould be done.

Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the ftuff.
Tay. But how did you defire it should be made?
Gru. Marry, Sir, with needle and thread.
Tay. But did you not request to have it cut?
Gru. Thou haft faced many things.

Tay. I have.

Gru. Face not me: thou haft brav'd many men, brave not me; I will neither be faced, nor brav'd. I fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo, thou lieft.

Tay. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify. Pet. Read it.

Gru. The note lies in's throat, if he say I faid fo.

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