And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.

Pet. Seignior 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 bettered rather than decreased.
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 of1
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.

Bap. Ay, when the special thing is well obtained; This is, her love; for that is all in all.

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 mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!

But be thou armed 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?

1 Perhaps we should read on. Of and on are frequently confounded by the negligence of printers, in the old copy.

Hor. I think she'll sooner prove a soldier; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

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 bowed her hand to teach her fingering,

When, with a most impatient, devilish spirit,
Frets, calls you these? quoth she; I'll fume with them;
And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made 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 terms,
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.

O, how I long to have some chat with her!

Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.—
Seignior Petruchio, will you go with us?
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
Pet. I pray you, do; I will attend her 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 washed 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,

1 Frets are the points at which a string is to be stopped, formerly marked on the neck of such instruments as the lute or guitar.

If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the bans, and when be married.
But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.

Enter KATHARINA.

Good-morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. Kath. Well have you heard, but something hard 1 of hearing;

They call me-Katharine, that do talk of me.

Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are called plain Kate, And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst; But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom, Kate of Kate-Hall, my super-dainty Kate, For dainties are all cates; and therefore, Kate, Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;— Hearing thy mildness praised in every town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauties sounded, (Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,) Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.

Kath. Moved! in good time; let him that moved you hither,

Remove you hence. I knew you at the first,

You were a movable.

Pet.

Kath. A joint-stool.

Why, what's a movable?

Pet. Thou hast hit it; come, sit on me. Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you. Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you. Kath. No such jade, sir, as you, if me you mean. Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee; 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 buzz.

Kath.

Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. O, slow-winged turtle! shall a buzzard take

thee?

1 This is a poor quibble upon heard, which was then pronounced hard.

Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard.1
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.

Pet.

Kath. Yours, 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.

If

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.

you strike me, you are no gentleman;

And if no gentleman, why, then no arms.

Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
Kath. What is your crest? A coxcomb?

Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a

craven.2

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

sour.

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.

Pet. Then show it me.

Kath.

Had I a glass, I would.

Pet. What, you mean my face?

1 This kind of expression seems to have been proverbial. So in The Three Lords of London, 1590 :—

66

hast no more skill

Than take a falcon for a buzzard.”

2 A cowardly, degenerate cock.

Kath.

Well aimed of such a young one.

Pet. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for

you.

Kath. Yet you are withered.

Pet.

Kath.

'Tis with cares.

I care not.

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in sooth you 'scape not

So.

Kath. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.

Pet. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle. 'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar ;

For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous ;
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers.
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip as angry wenches will;

Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk ;
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report, that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world! Kate, like the hazel-twig,
Is straight and slender; and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk; thou dost not halt.

Kath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
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 sportful!

Kath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.

Kath. A witty-mother! witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise?

Kath.

Yes; keep you warm.1 Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, in thy bed; And therefore, setting all this chat aside,

Thus in plain terms:-Your father hath consented you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;

That

1 This appears to allude to some proverb.