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She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vy'd fo faft, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink fhe won me to her love.
Oh, you are novices; 'tis a world to fee,
How tame (when men and women are alone)
A meacock wretch can make the curftest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day;
Father, provide the feaft, and bid the guefts;
I will be fure, my Catharine fhall be fine.

Bap. I know not what to fay, but give your hands; God fend you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.

Gre. Tra. Amen, fay we; we will be witneffes.
Pet. Father, and wife, and Gentlemen, adieu;
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,

We will have rings and things, and fine array;
And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.
[Exeunt Petruchio, and Catharine feverally.
SCENE VI.

Gre. WAS ever match clapt up fo fuddenly?

Bap. Faith, gentlemen, I play a mer-
chant's part,

And venture madly on a desperate mart.
Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you gain, or perifh on the Seas.
Bap. The gain I feek is quiet in the match.
Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch:
But now, Baptifta, 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 witnefs, or your thoughts can guess.
Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love fo dear as I.
Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.

Gre. But thine doth fry.

Skipper, ftand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.
Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
VOL. III.

G

Bap

Bap. Content you, Gentlemen, I will compound this ftrife;

'Tis deeds muft win the prize; and he, of Both, That can affure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.

Say, Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?

Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city Is richly furnished with plate and gold,

Bafons and ewers to lave her dainty hands:
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stufft my crowns;
In cypress chefts my arras, counterpanes,
Coftly apparel, tents and canopies,

Fine linen, Turkey cushions bofs'd with pearl;
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work:
Pewter and brafs, and all things that belong
To houfe, or house-keeping: then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixfcore fat oxen standing in my
ftalls;
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myfelf am ftruck in years, I muft confefs,
And if I die to-morrow, this is hers;
If, whilft I live, she will be only mine.

Tra. That only came well in-Sir, lift to me;
I am my father's heir, and only fon;

If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pifa walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
Befides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land; all which fhall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?
Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
My land amounts but to fo much in all:
That fhe fhall have, befides an Argofy
That now is lying in Marseilles's road.
What, have I choakt you with an Argofy?
Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father has no lefs

Than

Than three great Argofies, befides two galliaffes
And twelve tight gallies; these I will affure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'ft 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, fhe fhall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the By your firm promife; Gremio is out-vied. [world, Bap. I muft confess, your offer is the best; And let your father make her the affurance, your own, elfe muft you pardon me: If you should die before him, where's her dower? Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I

She is

young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old?
Bap. Well, gentlemen, then I am thus refolv'd:
On Sunday next, you know,

My daughter Catharine is to be married:
Now on the Sunday following fhall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this affurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio:

And fo I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.-Now I fear thee not:
Sirrah, young gamefter, your father were a fool
To give thee all; and in his waining age
Set foot under thy table: tut! a toy!
An old Italian fox is not fo kind, my boy.

[Exit.

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

* Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten:
'Tis in my head to do my mafter good:
I fee no reason, but fuppos'd Lucentio
May get a father, call'd, fuppos'd Vincentio;
And that's a wonder: fathers commonly

Do get their children; but, in this cafe of wooing,
A child fhall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning.

[Exit.

Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten :] That is, with the highest Card, in the old fimple Games of our Ancestors. So that this be

came a proverbial Expreffion.

G 2

The

[The Presenters, above, speak here. Sly. Sim, when will the fool come again? Sim. Anon, my Lord.

Sly. Give's fome more drink here—where's the tapfter? here, Sim, eat fome of thefe things.

Sim. So I do, my Lord.

Sly. Here, Sim, 1 drink to thee.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Baptifta's House.

Enter Lucentio, Hortenfio, and Bianca.

FIDLER,

LUCENTIO.

IDLER, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir:
you fo foon forgot the entertainment

Her fifter Catharine welcom'd you withal?
Hor. Wrangling Pedant, this is

The patronefs of heavenly harmony;
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in mufic we have spent an hour,
Your lecture fhall have leisure for as much.
Luc. Prepofterous afs! that never read fo far
To know the cause why music was ordain'd:
Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his ftudies, or his ufual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And, while I paufe, ferve in your harmony.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear thefe Braves of thine.
Bian. Why, Gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
To flrive for That which refteth in my choice:
I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times,
But learn my leffons as I please myself;
And to cut of all ftrife, here fit we down,

Take

1

Take you your inftrument, play you the while;
His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd.
Hor. You'll leave his lecture, when I am in tune?
[Hortenfio retires.
Luc. That will be never: tune your inftrument.
Bian. Where left we laft?

Luc. Here, Madam: Hac ibat Simois, hic eft Sigeia
tellus,

Hic fteterat Priami regia celfa fenis.

Bian. Conftrue them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic eft, fon unto Vincentio of Pifa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love, hic fteterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, celfa fenis, that we might beguile the old Pantaloon.

Hor. Madam, my inftrument's in tune. [Returning.
Bian. Let's hear. O fie, the treble jars.

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

Bian. Now let me fee, if I can conftrue it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not, hic eft Sigeia tellus, I trust you not, hic fteterat Priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, presume not, celsa senis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.

Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The bafe is right, 'tis the base knave that jars.
How fiery and how froward is our Pedant !

Now, for my life, that knave doth court my love;
Pedafcale, I'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Miftruft it not,-for, fure,

acides

Was Ajax, call'd fo from his grandfather.

Bian. I must believe my mafter, else I promise you,

I fhould be arguing ftill upon that doubt;

But let it reft. Now, Licio, to you:
Good mafters, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleafant with you both.
G 3

Hor.

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