Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, Sir? what may I call your

name?

Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.

Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too : Baccare! you are marvellous forward.

Pet. O pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.

Gre. I doubt it not, Sir; but you will curse your wooing.

Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, I freely give unto you this young scholar, [Presenting LUCENTIO.] that hath been long studying at Rheins; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and mathematics: bis name is Cambio; pray, accept

his service.

Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio.-But, gentle Sir, [To TRANIO methinks, you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

Tru. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine
own;

That, being a stranger in this city here,
Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair, and virtuous.

Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
In the preferment of the eldest sister:
This liberty is all that I request,—
That, upon knowledge of my parentage,

I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo,
And free access and favour as the rest.
And, toward the education of your daughters,
there bestow a simple instrument,

And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:

If you accept them, then their worth is great. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, pray?

Tra. Of Pisa, Sir; son to Vincentio.
Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report
I know him well: you are very welcome, Sir.-
Take you [To HOR.] the lute, and you [To Luc.]
the set of books,

You shall go see your pupils presently.
Holla, within!

Sirrah, lead

Enter a SERVANT.

These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them both,

These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit SERVANT, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO.

We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner: you are passing welcome,
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh
haste,

And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well; and in him, me,
Left solely 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 shall I have with her to wife?
bap. After my death, the one half of my
lands:

And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.

Pet. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of Her widowhood,-be it that she survive me,In all my lands and leases whatsoever : Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand, Bop. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,

This is, her love; for that is all in all.

• A proverbial exclamation then in use.

Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,

I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their
fury:

Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all :
So I to her, and so she yields to me;
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy
speed!

But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
Pet. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for
winds,

That shake not, though they blow perpetually. Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale?

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

Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier ; Iron may hold with her, but never lntes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute ?

Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to

me.

I did but tell her, she mistook her frets,
And bow'd her band to teach her fingering:
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fame
with them:

And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate may way;
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute:
While she did call me,-rascal fiddler,
And-twangling Jack; with twenty such vile
terins,

As she had studied to misuse me so.

Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did: Oh! how I long to have some chat with her! Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so dis

comfited:

Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.-
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us;
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you!
Pet. I pray you do; I will attend ber here,~
[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO,
and HORTENSIO.

And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
Say, that she rail; Why, then I'll tell her plain,
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale :
Say, that she frown; I'll say, she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word;
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And say--she uttereth piercing eloquence:
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week;
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the bauns, and when be inar-
ried: -

But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
Enter KATHARINA.
Good-morrow, Kate; for that's your name,
bear,

Kath. Well have you heard, but something bard of bearing:

They call me--Katharine, that do talk of me. Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain

For, knowing thee to be but young and light,— Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch;

And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
Pet. Should be ? should buz.

Kath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
Pet. O slow-wing'd turtle! Sirail a buzzard
take thee?

Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come you wasp; i'faith, you are too angry.

Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting?

In his tail.

Kath. In his tongue.
Pet. Whose tongue!

Kath. Your's, if you talk of tails; and so farewell.

Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,

Good Kate: I am a gentleman.
Kath. That I'll try.

[Striking him.

Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Kath. So may you lose your arms:

If you strike me, you are no gentleman:
And if no gentleman, why, then no arins:

Pet. A herald, Kate ? O put me in thy books.
Kuth. What is your crest? a coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my
ben.

Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.

Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sout.

Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab. Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.

Kath. There is, there is.

Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will ;
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wosers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report, that Kate doth
limp?

O slanderous world! Kate, like the harle twiL.
Is straight, and stender; and as brown in tæ
As hazel nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
Oh! let me see thee walk: thou dost not bat.
Kath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st com
mand.

Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove,
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait !
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let Kate be chaste and Dian spurt
ful

Kath. Where did you study all this goody speech?

Pet. It is extempore from my mother wit. Kath. A witty mother! witless else her sund. Pet. Am I not wise?

Kath. Yes; keep you warm.

Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine in thy bed;

And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain termus:-Your father hath -
sented

That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed
And, will yon, nill you, I will marry yo
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn:
For, by this light, whereby I see thy bealy,
Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well)
Thou must be married to no man bat me:
For I am he, am born to tame you, Kale;
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate
Conformable, as other household Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.
Re-enter BAPTISTA, GRENIO, and TRANIO.
Bap. Now,

Signior Petruchio: How speed you with
My daughter?

Pet. How but well, Sir? bow but well f
It were impossible, I should speed amiss.
Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katarine!
in your dumps ?

Kath. Call you nie, daughter? now I pomise you,

You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one ha f lunatic;
A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the marter out.
Pet. Father, 'tis thus,-yourself and at the

world,

That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of ber;
If she be curst, it is for policy:

For she's not froward, but modest as the dore;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel;
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
Aud to conclude,-we have 'greed so wel to
gether

That upon Sunday is the wedding-dar.
Kath. I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
Gre. Hark, Petruchio! she says, she'd see
thee hang'd first.

Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then god night our part!

Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself;

If she and be pleas'd, what's that to you !
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, belag tiòne,
That she shall still be curst in company.
tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me: Ob! the kindest Kate!-
She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on cath,
That in a twink she won me to her love,
Oh! you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
How tame, when men and women are alune,

To vie and revye were terms at reede, wow cynet seded by the word brag. It is well word wring

inent.

Bian. Where left we last?
Luc. Here, madam:

Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus ;
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,-Simois, 1 am Lucentio,-hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa,-Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love-Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing,-Priami, is my man Tranio,-regia, bearing my port,-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon. Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune.

Bian. Let's hear;O fie! the treble jars.

[Returning. [HORTENSIO plays. Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not :-Hic steterat Priami, take heed be hear us not ;-regia, presume not; -celsa senis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc. All but the bass.

Hor. The bass 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, Æacides
Was Ajax,-call'd so from his grandfather.
Bian. I must believe my master; else, I pro-
mise 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 music in three parts.
Luc. Are you so formal, Sir? well, I must
wait,

And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'á,
Our fine musician groweth amorous.

[Aside.

SCENE II.-The same.-Before BAPTISTA's House.

Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATE: RINE, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants. Bap. Signior Lucentio, [To TRANTO.] this s the 'pointed day

That Katharine and Petruchio should be
ried,

And yet we hear not of our son-in-law :
What will be said? what mocker will it be,
To want the bridegroom, when the priest a
tends

To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage !
What says Lucentio to this shame of ears!
Kath. No shame but mine : I canst, forsooth,

be forc'd

To give my band, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen
Who woo'd in haste, and meaus to wed at les

sure.

I told you, 1, he was a frantic fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour :
And to be noted for a merry man,
He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proctam ür
banns;

Yet never means to wed where be hath won't
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say,-Lo, there is mad Petruchu's wife,
If it would please him come and merry ker.
Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Bajchta

you there.

Tra. But, say, what :-To thine old news. Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turned; a pair of boots that have been candlecases, one buckled, another faced: m old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken bilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse bipped with an oid mothy saddle, the s'irrups of no kindred: be sides, possessed with the glanders, and hike to mose in the chine; troubled with the tampass, infected with the fashions, full of wind gas, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the sag gers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the

back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er-legged before, and with a balf-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots; one girt six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. O Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse; with a linen stock + on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel; and not like a Christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey.

Tru. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion ;

Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd. Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he

comes.

Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didst thou not say, he comes? Bion. Who? that Petruchio caine? Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a lovely kiss?

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMI0, and
BIONDELLO.

Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire: We will persuade him, be it poscible, To put on better ere he go to church. Bap. I'll after him and see the event of this. [Brit. Tra. But,Sir, to her love concerneth us to add Her father's liking: Which to bring to pass, As I before imparted to your worship, I am to get a man,-Whate'er he be, It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn,— And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa; And make assurance, here in Padua, Of greater sums than I have promised. So shall you quietly enjoy your hope, And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

Luc. Were it not that my fellow-school-mas

ter

Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, 'Twere good, methinks, to steal our narriage; Which once perform'd, let all the world say

no,

We'll over-reach the grey beard, Gremio,
The narrow-prying father, Minola;
The quaint + musician, amorous Licio;
All for my master's sake, Lucentio.--

Re-enter GREM10.

Signior Gremio! came you from the church? Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school. Tra. And is the bride and bridegroot coming home ?

Gre. A bridegroom, say you? 'tis a groom, indeed,

A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find Tra. Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible. Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very tend. Tru. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.

Gre. Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.

I'll tell you, Sir Lucentto; When the priest
Should ask-if Katharine should be his wife?
Ay, by gogs-wouns, quoth he; and swore so
loud,

That, all auaz'd, the priest let fall the book :
And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,

The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff,

That down fell priest and book, and book and priest;

Now take them up, quoth he, if any list. Tra. What said the wench when he arose again?

Gre. Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd, and swore,

As if the vicar meant to cozen him.

But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine :-A health, quoth he; as if
He had been aboard carousing to his mates
After a storm :-Quaff'd off the muscadel,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
Having no other reason,-

But that his beard grew thin and hungerly,
And seem'd to ask him sops as be was drink-
ing.

This done, be took the bride about the neck; And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,

That, at the parting, all the church did echo.
I, seeing this, came thence for very sheme;
And after me, I know, the rout is coming:
Such a mad marriage never was before;
Hark, hark! I bear the minstrels play.

• Marters.

[Music.

+ Strange. 1 It was the custom for the company present to drink wine immediately after the marriage-ceremony.