He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd,
Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth:
Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?

King.
She bath that ring of yours.
Ber. I think she has: certain it is, I lik'd her,
And boarded her i'the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her insuit coming with her modern grace,
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.

Dia.
I must be patient;
You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,)
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.

Ber.

I have it not.

Ay, my lord.

King. Tell me, sirráh, but' tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master, (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) By him, and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honcurable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
King. How, I pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a

woman.

King. How is that?

Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not.

King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:-What an equivocal companion is this!

Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty

orator.

Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what; yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence: therefore stand aside.This ring, you say, was yours?

Dia.

Ay, my good lord.

King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?

Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
King. Who lent it you?
Dia.

It was not let me neither.

King. Where did you find it then? Dia.

I found it not.

King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him?

Dia.

I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure.

King. This ring was mine: I gave it his first wife. Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I know. King. Take her away; I do not like her now: To prison with her :-and away with him.— Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia.

King. Take her away.

I'll never tell you.

I'll put in bail, my liege.

Dia.
King. I think thee now some common customer.
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him, all this

while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty;
He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.

[Pointing to LAFEU. King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal sir, [Exit WIDOW.

The jeweller that owes the ring, is sent for,
And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
He knows himself, my bed he hath defil'd;
And at that time he got his wife with child.
Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick;
So there's my riddle, One that's dead, is quick:
And now behold the meaning.

King.

Re-enter WIDOW, with HELENA.

Is there no exorcist

Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?
Hel.
No, my good lord,
"Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
The name,
and not the thing.
Ber.
Both, both; O, pardon!
Hel. O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring,
And, look you, here's your letter; This is says,
When from my finger you can get this ring,
And are by me with child, &c.-This is done:
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce step between me and you!-
O my dear mother, do I see you living?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon :Good Tom Drum, [To PAROLLES] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'l make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they

are scurvy ones.

King. Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow:-
If thou he'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, [To DIANA.
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;

For I can guess that, by thy honest aid,
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.-
Of that, and all the progress, more and less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express :
All yet seems well; and, if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [Flourish.

TAMING OF

THE SHREW.

SCENE I-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter HOSTESS and SLY.

Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith.
Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies are no rogues: Look in the Chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris; let the world slide: Sessa !

Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, says Jeronimy ;Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Host. I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough. [Exit. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly.

[Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Wind horns. Enter a LORD, from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.

Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:

Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is emboss'd,
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
1. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He ried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

1 Hun. I will, tay lord.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd with ale,

This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.———— What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him when he wakes, Would not the beggar then forget himself?

1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him, when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest:

Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters,
And burn sweet wood, to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
And, with a low submissive reverence,
Say,-What is it your honour will command?
Let one attend him with a silver basin,

Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another hear the ewer, the third a diaper,

And say,-Will't please your lordship cool your hands?
Some one be ready with a costly suit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
And, when he says he is-say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs ;
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part; As he shall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we say he is.

Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him: And each one to his office, when he wakes.

[Some bear out SLY. A trumpet sounds. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:[Exit SERVANT. Belike, some noble gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here.Re-enter a SERVANT.

Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. We thank your horɔur. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me, to-night? 2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our duty. Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remember, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;"Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd.

1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour means. Lord. "Tis very true;-thou didst it excellent.Well you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some sport in hand, Wherein your cunning can assist me much. There is a lord will hear you play, to-night: But I am doubtful of your modesties: Lest, over-eyeing of his odd behaviour, (For yet his honour never heard a play,) You break into some merry passion, And so offend him: for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient.

1 Play. Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antic in the world.

Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords.

Exeunt SERVANT and PLAYERS. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, [To a SERV. And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, And call him-madam, do him obeisance,Tell him from me, (as he will win my love,) He bear himself with honourable action, Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies Unto their lords, by them accomplished: Such duty to the drunkard let him do, With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy ; And say,-What is't your honour will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May show her duty, and make known her love? And then-with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom, Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd

To see her noble lord restor❜d to health,
Who, for twice seven years, hath esteemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
And if the boy have not a woman's gift,
To rain a shower of commanded tears,

An onion will do well for such a shift,

Which in a napkin being close convey'd,

Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.

See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;

Anon I'll give thee more instructions.--[Exit SERV.
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait, and action, of a gentlewoman:

I long to hear him call the drunkard, husband;

And how my men will stay themselves from laughter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in, to counsel them: haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,

Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Bedchamber in the LORD's House.

SLY is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with basin, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter LORD, dressed like a Servant.

Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale.

1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?

2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?

3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear, to-day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me honour, nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; and, if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather.

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour! O that a mighty man, of such descent, Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son, of Burton-heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught: Here's

1 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.

2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants droop. Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun your house,

[Music.

As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth;
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
And banish hence these abject lowly dreams:
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
And twenty caged nightingales do sing;
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch,
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say, thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.

1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift

As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.

2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee Adonis, painted by a running brook: And Cytherea all in sedges hid;

[straight

Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age.

1 Serv. And, till the tears that she bath shed for thee,
Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none.

Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;

I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:-
Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed;

And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?

[SERVANTS present an ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restor❜d!

O that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.
Sly. These fifteen years, by my fay, a goodly nap.
But did I never speak, of all that time?

1 Serv. O, yes, my lord: but very idle words:—
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house;
And say, you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

3 Serv. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid;

Nor no such men as you have reckon❜d up-
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
All. Amen.

Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it.

Enter the PAGE, as a lady, with attendants.

Page. How fares my noble lord?

Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife?

Page. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me-husband? My men should call ine-lord; I am your good-man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husI am your wife in all obedience.

Sly. I know it well:-What must I call her?
Lord. Madam.

[band;

Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendAre come to play a pleasant comedy, [ment, For so your doctors hold it very meet; Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. Sly. Marry, I will; let them play it: Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history.

Sly. Well, we'll see't: Come, madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger.

[They sit down.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Padua.-A public Place.

Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.

Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,-
I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy;

And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd
With his good will and thy good company,
Most trusty servant, well approv'd in all;
Here let us breathe, and happily institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being, and my father first,

A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.

Vincentio, his son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue 'specially to be achiev'd.
Tell me thy mind: for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come; as he that leaves
A shallow plash, to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;

Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral discipline,
Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or so devote to Aristotle's ethics,
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd;
Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk:
Music and poesy use to quicken you:
The mathematics, and the metaphysics,

Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you :
No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en;-
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.

If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness;
And take a lodging, fit to entertain

Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay awhile: What company is this?

Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no further,
For how I firmly ain resolv'd, you know;
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter,
Before I have a husband for the elder:

If either of you both love Katharina,
Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
Gre. To cart her, rather: She's too rough for me:-
There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

Kath. I pray you, sir, [To BAP.] is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

Hor. Mates, maid? how mean you that? no mate

for you,

Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

Kath. I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
I wis, it is not half way to her heart:
But, if it were, doubt not her cares should be.
To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us!
Gre. And me too, good Lord!

Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime toward:

That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward.
Luc. But in the other's silence I do see
Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.

Tra. Well said, master: mum! and gaze your fill.
Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good

What I have said,-Bianca, get you in:
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca;
For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.
Kath. A pretty peat! 'tis best

Put finger in the eye,-an she knew why.
Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.-
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:

My books and instruments shall be my company;
On them to look, and practise by myself.

Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak. [Aside.

Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange ? Sorry am I, that our good will effects

Bianca's griet'!

Gre.

Why, will you mew her up,
Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,

And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd:-
Go in, Bianca.
[Exit BIANCA.

And for I know, she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth.-If you, Hortensio,
Or, signior Gremio, you,-know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men

I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing up;
And so farewell. Katharina you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
Kath. Why, and I trust I may go too; May I not?
What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike,
I knew not what to take, and what to leave? Ha!

[Exit.

[Exit.

Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here is none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell:-Yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.

Hor. So will I, signior Gremio: But a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both,that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love,-to labour and effect one thing 'specially.

Gre. What's that, I pray?

Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
Gre. A husband! a devil!
Hor. I say, a husband.

Gre. I say, a devil: Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?

Hor. Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience, and mine, to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all her faults, and money enough.

Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition,-to be whipped at the high-cross, every morning.

Hor. 'Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained, -till, by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to't afresh.-Sweet Bianca !-Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest, gets the ring. How say you, signior Gremio?

Gre. I am agreed: and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. [Exeunt GRE. and HOR. Tra. [Advancing.] I pray, sir, tell me,-Is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold? Luc. O Tranio, till I found it to be true,

I never thought it possible, or likely;
But see! while idly I stood looking on,
I found the effect of love in idleness:
And now in plainness do confess to thee,-
That art to me as secret, and as dear,
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was,-
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl:
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now;
Affection is not rated from the heart;

If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so,-
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents;
The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.
Tra. Master, you look'd so longly on the maid,
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
Luc. O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,

When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.
Tra. Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her
sister

Began to scold; and raise up such a storm,
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?
Luc. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air:
Sacred, and sweet, was all I saw in her.

Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance. I pray, awake, sir; if you love the maid,

Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:

Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,
That, till the father rids his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home;
And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
Because she shall not be annoy'd with suitors.
Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
But art thou not advis'd, he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct.her?
Tra. Ay, marry, am I sir; and now 'tis plotted.
Luc. I have it, Tranio.
Tra.

Master, for my hand,

Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your part, And be in Padua here Vincentio's son? Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?

Luc. Basta; content thee; for I have it full.
We have not yet been seen in any house;
Nor can we be distinguished by our faces,
For man or master: then it follows thus;-
Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should;
I will some other be; some Florentine,
Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa.
"Tis hatch'd, and shall be so :-Tranio, at once
Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak:
When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
• Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits.
In brief then, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
And I am tied to be obedient;

(For so your father charged me at our parting;
Be serviceable to my son, quoth he,
Although, I think, 'twas in another sense,)

I am content to be Lucentio,

Because so well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves:
And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid
Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.
Enter BIONDELLO.

Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you?

Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes?
Or you stolen his? or both? pray, what's the news?
Luc. Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your answers to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
And I for my escape have put on his;

For in a quarrel, since I came ashore,

I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried:

Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life:
You understand me?

1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.

Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; Comes there any more of it?

Page. My lord, 'tis but begun.

Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. 'Would it were done!

SCENE II.-The same.-Before HORTENSIO'S House.

Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO.

Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave,

To see my friends in Padua; but, of all,
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortensio; and, I trow, this is his house :-
Here, sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.

Gru. Knock, sir! whom should I knock? is there

any man has rebused your worship?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

Gru. Knock you here, sir? why, sir, what am 1,

sir, that I should knock you here, sir?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,

And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.
Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome: I should
knock you first,

And then I know after who comes by the worst.
Pet. Will it not be?

'Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it;
I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it.

[He wrings GRUMIO by the ears. Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you: sirrah! villain!

Hor. How now? what's the matter?-My old friend Grumio! and my good friend Petruchio!-How do you all at Verona ?

Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core bene trovato, may I say. Hor. Alla nostra casa bene venuto, Molto honorato signor mio Petruchio. Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel.

Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter what he 'leges in Latin.If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service,-Look you, sir,—he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, sir: Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, (for aught I see,) two and thirty, a pip out?

Whom, 'would to God, I had well knock'd at first,
Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

Pet. A senseless villain-Good Hortensio,

I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,

And could not get him for my heart to do it.
Gru. Knock at the gate ?--O heavens!
Spake you not these words plain,—Sirrah, knock me,
Rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly ;
And come you now with-knocking at the gate?

Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
Hor. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge:
Why, this is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you;
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant, servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend,-what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona ?

Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the

world,

To seek their fortunes further than at home,
Where small experience grows. But, in a few,
Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:-
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd!

And I have thrust myself into this maze,
Haply to wive, and thrive, as best I may :-
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.

Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel:
And yet I promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich:--but thou'rt too much my friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Pet. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we,
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,

(As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,)
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sybil, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,
She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
Affection's edge in me; were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas;

I come to wive it wealthily in Padua ;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.