Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat,

Or, what you will command me, will I do;
So well I know my duty to my elders.

Cath. Of all thy Suitors here, I charge thee, tell Whom thou lov'st best: see, thou diffemble not. Bian. Believe me, Sifter, of all men alive

I never yet beheld that special face,

Which I could fancy more than any other.

Cath. Minion, thou lieft; is't not Hortenfio?
Bian. If you affect him, fifter, here I swear,
I'll plead for you my felf, but you fhall have him.
Cath. Oh, then, belike, you fancy riches more;
You will have Gremio, to keep you fair.

Bian. Is it for him you do so envy me?
Nay, then you jeft; and now, I well perceive,
You have but jested with me all this while;
I pr'ythee, fifter Kate, untie my hands.

Cath. If That be jeft, then all the reft was fo.

Enter Baptifta.

[Strikes her.

Bap. Why, how now, dame, whence grows this in

folence ?

Bianca, ftand afide; poor girl, fhe weeps;

Go ply thy needle, meddle not with her.
For fhame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
Why doft thou wrong her, that did ne'er wrong thee?
When did the cross thee with a bitter word?

Cath. Her filence flouts me; and I'll be reveng❜d.

[Flies after Bianca.

Bap. What, in my fight? Bianca, get thee in.

[Exit Bianca. Cath. Will you not fuffer me? nay, now I fee, She is your treasure; the muft have a husband; I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell: Talk not to me, I will fit and weep, 'Till I can find occafion of revenge.

go

Bap. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd, as I? But who comes here?

[Exit Cath.

Enter

Enter Gremio, Lucentio in the habit of a mean man Petruchio with Hortenfio, like a mufician; Tranio and Biondello bearing a lute and books.

Gre. Good morrow, neighbour Baptifta.

Bap. Good morrow, neighbour Gremio: God fave you, gentlemen.

Pet. And you, good Sir; pray, have you not a daughter call'd Catharina, fair and virtuous ?

Bap. I have a daughter, Sir, call'd Catharina.
Gre. You are too blunt; go to it orderly.

Pet. You wrong me, Signior Gremio, give me leave. I am a gentleman of Verona, Sir,

That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,

Her affability and bafhful modefty,

Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,
Am bold to fhew my felf a forward gueft

Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that Report, which I fo oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,

[Prefenting Hor.

I do prefent you with a man of mine,
Cunning in mufick, and the mathematicks,
To inftruct her fully in thofe fciences,
Whereof, I know, fhe is not ignorant :
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong,
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

Bap. You're welcome, Sir, and he for your good
fake.

But for my daughter Catharine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more's my grief.
Pet. I fee, you do not mean to part with her;
Or else you like not of my company.

Bap. Miftake me not, I fpeak but what I find.
Whence are you, Sir? what may I call your name?
Pet. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's fon,

A man well known throughout all Italy.

Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his fake.

Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, let us, that

arc

are poor petitioners, fpeak too. Baccalare! - you are marvellous forward. (10)

Pet. Oh, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be doing. (11)

Gre. I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am fure of it. To exprefs the like kindness my felf, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, free leave give to this young fcholar, that hath been long ftudying at Reims, [Prefenting Luc.] as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in mufick and mathematicks; his name is Cambio; pray, accept his fervice.

Bap. A thoufand thanks, Signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio. But, gentle Sir, methinks, you walk like a ftranger; [To Tranio.] may I be fo bold to know the cause of your coming?

Tra. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine own, That, being a ftranger in this City here,

(10) Baccare, you are marvellous forward] But not fo forward, as our Editors are indolent and acquiefcing. This is a ftupid Corruption of the Prefs, that None of them have div'd into. We must read, Baccalare, as Mr. Warburton acutely obferv'd to me; by which the Italians mean, Thou arrogant, prefumptuous Man! The Word is used scornfully, upon any One that would affume a Port of Grandeur and high Repute.

(11) Oh, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be doing. Gre. I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe your wooing Neigh bours. This is a Gift ;] It would be very unreasonable, after fuch a number of Inftances, to fufpect, the Editors ever dwelt on the meaning of any Paffage: But why fhould Petruchio curfe his wooing Neighbours? They were None of them his Rivals: Nor, tho' he should curfe his own Match afterwards, did he commence his Courtship on their Accounts. In short, Gremio is defign'd to answer to Petruchio in doggrel Rhyme, to this purpose, Yes; I know, You would fain be doing; but "you'll coap with fuch a Devil, that You'll have Reafon to curfe your Wooing.' and then immediately turns his Difcourfe to Baptifta, whom he calls Neighbour, (as he had done before at the Beginning of this Scene,) and makes his Prefent to him,

Do

Do make my self a fuitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous :

Nor is your firm refolve unknown to me,
In the preferment of the eldest fifter.
This liberty is all that I request;

That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
I may have welcome 'mongst the reft that woo,
And free accefs and favour as the rest.

And, toward the education of your daughters,
I here bestow a fimple Inftrument,

And this small packet of Greek and Latin books.
If you accept them, then their worth is

great. [They greet privately. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence I pray ? Tra. Of Pifa, Sir, fon to Vincentio. Bap. A mighty man of Pifa; by Report I know him well; you are very welcome, Sir. Take You the lute, and You the Set of books,

[To Hortenfio and Lucentio.'

You fhall go fee your pupils prefently.

Holla, within!

Enter a Servant.

Sirrah, lead these gentlemen

To my two daughters; and then tell them Both,
These are their tutors, bid them use them well.

[Exit Serv. with Hortenfio and Lucentio. We will go walk a little in the orchard,

And then to dinner. You are paffing welcome,
And fo, I pray you all, to think your felves.
Pet. Signior Baptifta, my business asketh hafte,
And every day I cannot come to wooe.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left folely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better'd, rather than decreas'd ;
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry fhall I have with her to wife?

Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands
And, in poffeffion, twenty thousand crowns.
Pet. And, for that dowry, I'll affure her of

Her

Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leafes whatsoever;

Let fpecialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. Ay, when the fpecial thing is well obtain'd, That is, her love; for that is all in all.

Pet. Why, that is nothing: for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as the proud-minded. And where two raging fires meet together; They do confume the thing that feeds their fury: Tho' little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extream gufts will blow out fire and all : So I to her, and fo fhe yields to me, For I am rough, and wooe not like a babe.

Bap. Well may'ft thou wooe, and happy be thy • Ipeed!

But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words.

Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds: That shake not, tho' they blow perpetually.

Enter Hortenfio with his head broke.

Bap. How now, my friend, why doft thou look fo pale?

Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mu fician?

Her. I think, fhe'll fooner prove a foldier ; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?

Hor. Why, no; for fhe hath broke the lute to me. I did but tell her the mistook her frets, And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering, When, with a moft impatient devilish fpirit, Frets call you them? quoth fhe: I'll fume with them: And with that word fhe ftruck me on the head, And through the inftrument my Pate made way, And there I ftood amazed for a while, As on a pillory, looking through the lute: While fhe did call me rafcal, fidler,

And