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Why doth the world report, that Kate doth limp?
Oh Nand'rous world! Kate like the hazle-twig,
Es straight and fender; and as brown in hue
As hazle-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
0, let me see thee walk : thou doft not halt.

Cath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'ít command.

Pet. Did ever Diam fo become a grove,
As Kate this chamber with her priocely gait?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful !-

Gath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit,
Cash. A witty mother, wittels elfe her fon.
Pet. Am I not wise ?
Cath. Yes; keep you warda..

Pet. Why, fo I mean, sweet Catharine, in rhy bed!
And therefore setting all this chat afide,
Thus in plain terms: Your father hath consented,
That you-shall be my wife ; your dow'ry 'greed on;
And, will you, you,

I will

marry you.. Now, Kate, I am a bufband for your turn; For by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty, (Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well). Thou must be married to no man but me. For I am hé am born to tame you, Kate, And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate, Conformable as other houdhold Kates. Here comes your father, never make denial, I must and will have Catharine to my wife. SCENE V. Enter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio, Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how spead you with

my daughter! Pet. How but well, Sir ?, how but well? It were impossible I fheuld speed amiss. Bap. Why, how now, daughter Catharine, in your

dumps ? Cath. Call you me daughter? now, I promise you, You've shew'd a tender fatherly regard, To wish me wed to one half lunatic; A madcap raffian, and a swearing Jacks That thinks with natlus to face the matter out,

1

Pet. Father, 'tis thus : Yourself and all the world,
That talk'd of her, have talk'd ainiss of her;
If she be curs’d, it is for policy,
For she's not froward, but nodeft as the dove :
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience, she will prove a fecond Grizel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;
And to conclude, we've 'greed fo well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
Cath. I'll fee thee hang’d on Sunday first,
Gre. Hark: Petruchio! she says, she'll see thee hang'di

first,
Tra. Is this your Speeding ? nay, then, good pight,

our part !
Pet. Be patient, Sirs, I chufe her for myself;
If the and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curs'd in company.
I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me; oh, the kindest Kate !
She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vy’d so faft, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink fhe won me to her love.
Oh, you are novices ; 'tis a world to see,
How tame (when men and women are alone)
A meacock wretch can make the curfteft fhrew.
Give me thy-hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day;
Father, provide the feast, and bid the guests';
I will be sure my Catharine shall be fine.

Bap. I know not what to say, but give your hands;
God lend you joy, Petruchio ! 'tis a match.

Gre. Tra. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.

Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu ;.
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,
We will have rings and things, and fine array ;
Ana kiis me, Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.

[Exeunt Petruchio and Catharine feveraly.

SC E N E VI.
Gre.- Was ever match clapt up fo fuddenly ?
Bap. Faith, Gentlemen, I play a merchant's party

And venture madly on a desperate mart.

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you; 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas,

Bap. The gain I feek is quiet in the match.

Gre. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter.
Now is the day we long have looked for :
I am your neighbour, and was fuitor first,

Tra. And I am one, that loves Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guets:

Gre. Youngling! thou can'st not love fo dear as 1..
Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.

Gre. But thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.

Tra, But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, Gentlemen, I will 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, Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?

Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnilhed with plate and gold,
Basons and ewers to lave her dainty bands :
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stuff?d my crowns ;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpanes,
Costly apparel, tents and canopies,
Fine linen, Turky cushions boss'd with pearl;:
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work;
Pewter and brafs, and all things that belong
To house, or house-keeping: then, at my farme..
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore 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 her's,
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine.

Tra. That only came well in.--Sir, list to me
I am my father's, beir, and only fon;
If I
may

have your daughter to my wife. I'll leave her houses tarce or four as good

Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua ;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land; all which thall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio ?

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year of land !
My land amounts but to so much in all.
That she shall have, besides an Argofie
That now is lying in Marseilles's road.
What, have I choak'd you with an Argofie ?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less
Than three great Argosies, besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight gallies : these I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'ít next,

Gre. Nay, I have offer'd 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 out-vied.

Bap. I must confess, your offer is the beft ;
And let your father make her the affurance,
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, then I am thus refoly'd.
On Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Catharine is to be married.
Now on the Sunday following shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance ;
If not, to Signior Gremio :
And so I take my leave, and thank you

both. [Exit. Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee

not. Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all; and in his waining 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 wither'd hide!
Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten :
'Tis in

my
head to do

my

master good. I fee no reason, but fuppasid Lucentio

May get a father, callid, fuppos'd Vincentio ;
And that's a wonder : fathers commonly
Do get their children ; but, in this case of wooing,
A child shall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning.

[Exit. [The presenters, above, speak here. Sly. Sim, when will the fool come again ?? Sim. Anon, my Lord.

Sly. Give's some more drink bere-Where's the tapster? Here, Sim, eat some of these things.

Siin. Sa I do, my Lord.
Sly. Here, Sim, I drink to thee.

А ст

III.

S CE N E

1.

F Have you

Baptista's house.
Enter Lucentio, Hortenfio, and Bianca.
Luc.

Have

you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Catharine welcom'd you

withal ?
Hor. 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 ordain'd:
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 refteth 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 my myself; And to cut off all strife, here sit

wię

down, Take you your inftruinent, play you the while; His lecture wil be done ere you have tun'd.

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