SCENE, before Baptifta's House. Enter Tranio, and the Pedant dreft like Vincentio. TRANIO. IR, this is the houfe; 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. (19) Enter Biondello. 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? Tra. Signior Baptifta, you are happily met; (19) 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 Genoa: 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 Sequel of what he was before faying, I I pray you ftand, good Father, to me now, Ped. Soft, fon. Sir, by your leave, having come to To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio To have him match'd; and if you please to like Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well. Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say: Your fon fhall have my daughter with confent. Tra. I thank you, Sir. Where then do you know beft, Be we affied; and fuch affurance ta'en, As fhall with either part's agreement stand; Bap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know, Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, Sir, My boy fhall fetch the fcrivener presently. 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: And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. Luc. I pray the Gods she may, with all my heart! [Exit. thee gone. cheer. Tra. Dally not, with the Gods, but get Enter Lucentio and Biondello. Bion. Cambio. Luc. What fay'ft thou, Biondello? [Exeunt. Bion. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon you. Luc. Biondello, what of that? Bion. 'Faith, nothing; But h'as 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; expect, they are bufied about a counterfeit affurance; take you affurance of her, Cum privilegio ad imprimendum folùm ; to th' Church take the Prieft, Clerk, and fome fufficient honeft 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. Luc. Hear'ft thou, Biondello ? Bion. I cannot tarry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parfly to stuft a rabbet; and so may you, Sir, and so adieu, Sir; my Master hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the Priest be ready to come against you come with your Appendix. [Exit. Luc. I may and will, if he 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. COME on, o'God's Father's. [Exit. s name, once more tow'rds our Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the Moon! Cath. The Moon! the Sun: it is not Moon light now. Pet. I fay, it is the Moon that shines fo bright. Cath. I know, it is the Sun that fhines fo bright. Pet. Now by my mother's fon, and that's myself, It shall be Moon or Star, or what I list, Or ere I journey to your father's house: Go on, and fetch our horfes back again. Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft! Hor. Say, as he fays, or we shall never go. Cath. Forward, I pray, fince we are come fo far, And be it Moon, or Sun, or what you please: And if you please to call it a rush candle, Henceforth, I vow it shall be so for me. Pet. I fay, it is the Moon. Cath. I know, it is the Moon. Pet. Nay, then you lye; it is the blessed Sun. What What you will have it nam'd, even that it is, Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won. run; And not unluckily against the bias: But foft, fome company is coming here. Enter Vincentio. Good morrow, gentle mistress, where away? [To Vincentio. Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Hor. He will make the man mad, to make a woman Cath. Young budding Virgin, fair, and fresh, and fweet, Whither away, or where is thy aboad? 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'ft he is. Cath Pardon, old Father, my mistaken eyes; Pet. Do, good old Grandfire, and withal make known Vin. Fair Sir, and you, my merry Mistress, That with your ftrange encounter much amaz'd me; My |