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But thine doth fry.

Gre.
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, seignior Gremio, what can you assure her?
Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
Basins, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;.
In ivory coffers I have stuffed my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies;

Fine linen, Turkey cushions bossed with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or house-keeping. Then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score 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's walls, as any one
Old seignior Gremio has in Padua;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year,

Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.-
What, have I pinched you, seignior 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 choked you with an argosy?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next,
Gre. Nay, I have offered 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 outvied.

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 resolved. 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 seignior Gremio.

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

[Exit.

Gre. Adieu, good neighbor.-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 withered 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 supposed Lucentio

Must get a father, called-supposed 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.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Room in Baptista's House.

Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.

Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcomed you withal?
Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony.
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in music 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 music was ordained!
Was it not to refresh the mind of man,
After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,

And, 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 strife, here sit we down.— Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done ere you have tuned. 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 selsa senis.

Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,-Simois, I 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. [Returning. [HORTENSIO plays.

Bian. Let's hear.

O fie! The treble jars.

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 he hear us not; regia,— presume not; -celsa senis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Lue.

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, acides

Was Ajax,-called so from his grandfather.

D

Bian. I must 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 music in three parts.

Luc. Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait And watch withal; for, but I be deceived,

Our fine musician groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must 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.

[Aside.

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.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books, And help to dress your sister's chamber up; You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.

Bian. Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone.

[Exeunt BIANCA and Servant.

Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.

Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant;
Methinks he looks as though he were in love.--
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble,
To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale,
Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.

[Exit.

[Exit.

SCENE II. The same. Before Baptista's House. Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHARINA, Bianca, LUCENTIO, and Attendants.

Bap. Seignior Lucentio, [To TRANIO.] this is the 'pointed day,

That Katharine and Petruchio should be married,
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.

What will be said? What mockery will it be,

To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends.
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!

What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

Kath. No shame but mine. I must, forsooth, be forced To give my hand, opposed against my heart,

Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen:

Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,

Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior;
And to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite them, and proclaim the bans;
Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say, -Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.

Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too.
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
Whatever fortune stays him from his word;
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

Kath. 'Would Katharine had never seen him though!
[Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others.

Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For such an injury would vex a very saint,

Much more a shrew of thy impatient humor.

Enter BIONDEllo.

Bion. Master, master! news, old news, and such newe as you never heard of!

Bap. Is it new and old too? How may that be?

Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming? Bap. Is he come?

Bion. Why, no, sir.
Bap. What then?
Bion. He is coming.

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