Bap. The gain I seek is

quiet in the match.

Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch. But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter; Now is the day we long have looked for;

I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess. Gre. Youngling thou canst not love so dear as I Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.

Gre. But thine doth fry.

Skipper, stand back; 'tis age, that nourisheth.
Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, Gentlemen; I'll compound this
strife:

"Tis deeds, must win the prize; and he, of both, That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.

Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?

Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city
s richly furnished with plate and gold;
Basons, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry:

In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,

Fine linen, Turky cushions boss'd with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle work,
Pewter and rass, and all things that belong
To house, or housekeeping: then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
And, if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine,
Tra. That, only, came well in Sir, list to me,

I am my father's heir, and only son:
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one.

Old Signior Gremio has in. Padua ;

Besides two thousand ducats by the year,

Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year, of land!
My land amounts not to so much in all:
That she shall have; besides an argosy,
That now is lying in Marseilles' road:
What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses, And twelve tight gallies: these I will assure her, And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next. Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; And she can have no more than all I have; If you like me, she shall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world, By your firm promise; Gremio is out- vied.

Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best; And, let your father make her the assurance, She is your own; else, you must pardon me: If you should die before him, where's her dower? Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.

Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old? Bap. Well, Gentlemen,

I am thus resolv'd; On sunday next you know,
My daughter Katharine is to be married:

Now, on the sunday following, shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio:

And so I take my leave, and thank you both.

{Exit.

Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.

Now I fear

thee not;

Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all, and, in his waning age,
Set foot under thy table! Tut! a toy!

An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.

[Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!

Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.

'Tis in my head to do my master good:
I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio
Must get a father, call'd suppqs'd Vincentio;
And that's a wonder: fathers, commonly,

Do

get their children; but, in this case of wooing, A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning. [Exit,

A Room in Baptista's House.

Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.

Luc. Fidler, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir: Have you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal? Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is The patroness of heavenly harmony: Then give me leave to have prerogative; And when in musick we have spent an hour, Your lecture shall have leisure for as much. Luc. Preposterous ass! that never read so far To know the cause why musick was ordain'd! Was it not, to refresh the mind of man, After his studies, or his usual pain? Then give me leave to read philosophy, Aud, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
Bian. Why, Gentlemen, you do me double wrong,"
To strive for that which resteth in my choice:
I am no breeching scholar in the schools';
I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times,
But learn my lessons as i please myself.

And to cut off all strif, here sit we down: -
Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd

Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune? [To BIANCA. — HORTENSIO retires.

Luc. That will be never; tune your instrument. Bian. Where left we last?

Luc. Here, Madam:

Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;

Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Construe them.

Simois,

Luc. Hacibat, as I told you before, I am Lucentio,· hic est, son unto Vincentio of Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your

Pisa,

love; Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes Priami, is my man Trauio,

a wooing, bearing my port,

regia,

celsa senis, that we might be

guile the old pantaloon.

Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. [Returning.

Bian. Let's hear:

O fie! the treble jars.

[HORTENSIO plays.

Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.

Bian. Now let me see it I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not; Hic steterat Priami, take heed

he hear us not;

nis, despair not.

regia, presume not; - celsa se

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.

Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.

How fiery and forward our pedant is!

Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love: Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust, Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, Aeacides Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather. Bian. Imust believe my master; else, I promise you, I should be arguing still upon that doubt: But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:/ Good Masters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleasant with you both. Hor. You may go walk, [ To LUCENTIO.] and give me leave awhile; My lessons make no musick in three parts. Luc. Are you so formal, Sir? well, I'must wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd, Our fine musician groweth amorous.

[Aside.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,

To learn the order of my fingering,
Imust begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,

Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.

Bian. [Reads.] Gamut I am; the ground of all
accord;

A re, to plead Hortensio's passion;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,
C faut, that loves with all affection:
D sol re, one cliff, two notes have I;
E la mi, show pity, or I die.

Call you this gamut? tut! I like it not:

Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,

To change true rules for odd inventions.