Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her Dowry with this Condition, to be whip'd at the High-crofs every Morning.

Hor. Faith, as you fay, there's fmall choice in rotten Apples: Come, fince this bar in Law makes us Friends, it fhall be fo forth friendly maintain'd, 'till by helping Baptifta's eldest Daughter to a Husband, we fet 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 fay you, Signior Gremio?

Gre. I am agreed, and would I had given him the best Horfe in Padua to begin his wooing that would throughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the House of her. Come on. [Exeunt Gre. and Hor. Manet Tra. and Lucen, Tra. I pray, Sir, tell me, is it poffible

That Love fhould on a fudden take fuch hold?
Luc. Oh Tranio, 'till I found it to be true,
I never thought it poffible or likely.
But fee, while idly I ftood looking on,
I found the effect of Love in Idleness.
And now in plainnefs to confefs to thee,
That art to me as fecret and as dear
As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranie,
If I atchieve not this young modeft Girl:
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
Affift me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

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

If Love has touch'd you, nought remains but so,
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

Luc. Gramercy, Lad; go forward, this contents,
The reft will comfort, for thy Counsel's found.
Tra. Mafter, you look'd fo longly on the Maid,
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
Luc. O yes, I faw fweet 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 kifs'd the Cretan Strand.

Tra. Saw you no more? Mark'd you not how her Sifter

Began to Scold, and raise up such a Storm,

That

That mortal Ears might hardly endure the Din.
Luc. Tranio, I faw her Coral Lips to move;
And with her Breath fhe did perfume the Air,
Sacred and fweet was all I faw in her.

Thus it ftands:

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 atchieve her.
Her eldeft Sifter is fo curft and fhrew'd,
That 'till the Father rids his Hands of her,
Mafter, your Love muft 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 fome care
To get her cunning School-mafters to inftruct her?
Tra. Ay marry am I, Sir, and now 'tis plotted.
Luc. I have it, Tranio.

Tra. Mafter, for my Hand,

Both our Inventions meet and jump in one.
Luc. Tell me thine first.

Tra. You will be School-mafter,

And undertake the teaching of the Maid:

That's your Device.

Luc. It is: May it be done?

Tra. Not poffible: For who fhall bear your part,
And be in Padua here Vincentio's Son,

Keep House, and ply his Book, welcome his Friends,
Vifit his Countrymen, and banquet them?

Luc. Bafta, content thee, for I have it full.
We have not yet been seen in any House,
Nor can we be diftinguifh'd by our Faces,
For Man or Mafter: Then it follows thus.
Thou shalt be Mafter, Tranio, in my ftead;
Keep Houfe, and Port, and Servants, as I should,
I will fome other be, fome Florentine,
Some Neapolitan, or meaner Man of Pisa.
'Tis hatch'd, and shall be fo; Tranio, at once
Uncafe thee: Take my colour'd Hat and Cloak,
When Biondello comes, he waits on thee,
But I will charm him firft to keep his Tongue.
Tra. So had you need.

In brief, Sir, fith it your pleasure is,

And I am tied to be obedient,

For fo your Father charg'd me at our parting;
Be ferviceable to my Son, quoth he,
Altho', I think, 'twas in another fenfe,
I am content to be Lucentio,

Because fo well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be fo, becaufe Lucentio loves;
And let me be a Slave t'atchieve that Maid,
Whofe fudden fight hath thral'd my wounded Eye.
Enter Biondello.

Here comes the Rogue. Sirra, where have you been?
Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are
you? Mafter, has my Fellow Tranio ftoll'n your Clothes,
or you ftoll'n his, or both? Pray what's the News?
Luc. Sirra, come hither, 'tis no time to jeft,
And therefore frame your Manners to the time.
Your Fellow Tranio here, to fave my Life,
Puts my Apparel and my Count'nance on,
And I for my escape have put on his :
For in a Quarrel, fince I came afhore,
I kill'd a Man, and fear I am defcry'd :
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes;
While I make way from hence to fave my Life.
You understand me?

Bion. Ay, Sir, ne'er a whit.

Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio.

your Mouth,

Bion. The better for him, would I were fo too.

Tra. So would I, 'faith Boy, to have the next Wish after, that Lucentio indeed had Baptifta's youngest Daughter. But, Sirra, not for my fake, but your Mafter's, I advise you ufe your Manners difcreetly in all kind of Companies: When I am alone, why then I am Tranio; but in all Places elfe, your Mafter Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, let's go :

One thing more refts, that thy felf execute,

To make one 'mong thefe Wooers; if thou ask me why, Sufficeth my Reafons are both good and weighty. [Exeunt.

The

The Prefenters above speak.

1 Man. My Lord, you nod, you do not mind the Play. Sly. Yes, by Saint Anne, do I; a good matter furely. Come's there any more of it?

Lady. My Lord, 'tis but begun.

Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of Work, Madam Lady, would 'twere done.

ACT II.

[They fit and mark

SCENE I.

Enter Petruchio, and Grumio.

Pet. Erona for a while I take my leave,

To fee

Friends in Padua; but of all

My best beloved and approved Friend,

Hortenfo; and I trow this is the House:

Here Sirra, Grumio, knock I say.

Gru. Knock, Sir? whom fhould I knock? Is there any Man has rebus'd your Worship?

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me here foundly.

Gru. Knock you here, Sir? Why, Sir, what am I, Sir, That I should knock you here Sir?

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me at this Gate,

And rap me well, or I'll knock your Knave's Pate.
Gru. My Mafter is grown quarrelsome :

I should knock you firft,

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

"Faith, Sirra, and you'll not knock, I'll ring it,'
try how you can Sol, Fa, and fing it.

I'll

[He rings him by the Ears. Gru. Help, Miftrefs, help, my Mafter is mad.

Pets Now knock when I bid you: Sirra, Villain.

Enter Hortenfio.

Ho How now, what's the matter? My old Friend Grymio, and my good Friend Petruchio! How do you all at Ferona?

Per Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the Fray? Commi-le core bene trovato, may I fay.

Hor.

Hor. Alla noftra casa ben venuto multo honorato Signior mio Petruchio.

Rise, Grumio, 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 foundly, Sir. Well, was it fit for a Servant to use his Mafter fo, being perhaps, for ought I fee, two and thirty, a peep out? Whom would to God I had well knock'd at firft, then had not Grumio come by the worst.

Pet. A fenfelefs Villain. Good Hortenfio,
I bad the Rascal knock upon your Gate,
And could not get him for my Heart to do it.

Gru. Knock at the Gate? O Heav'ns! Spake you not thefe words plain? Sirra, Knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me foundly? And come you now with knocking at the Gate?

Pet. Sirra, 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 trufty pleasant Servant Grumio;
And tell me now, fweet Friend, what happy Gale
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona?

Pet. Such Wind as fcatters young Men through the World,
To feek their Fortunes farther than at home,
Where fmall Experience grows but in a few.
Signior Hortenfio, thus it ftands with me,

Antonio my Father is deceas'd,

And I have thruft my felf into this maze,

Happily to Wive and Thrive, as beft I may:
Crowns in my Purse I have, and Goods at home,
And fo am come abroad to fee the World.

Hor. Petruchio, fhall I then come roundly to thee,
And with thee to a fhrew'd ill-favour'd Wife?
Thou'dft thank me but a little for my Counfel.
And yet I'll promise thee fhe fhall be rich,
And very rich: But thou'rt too much my Friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt fuch Friends as we
Few words fuffice; and therefore, if thou know

One