immortal gods! oh, fine villain ! a filken doublet, a velvet hole, a scarlet cloak and a copatain hat: Oh, I am undone! I am undone! while I play the good husband at home, my

fon and

my servants spend all at the university.

Tra. How now, what's the matter ?
Bap. What, is this man lunatick?

Tra. Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words shew a mad-man; why, Sir, what concerns it you, if I wear pearl and gold ? I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.

Vin. Thy father! oh villain, he is a fail-maker in Bergamo.

Bap. You mistake, Sir, you mistake, Sir; pray what do you

think is his name? tin. His name? as if I knew not his name: I have brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.

Ped. Away, away, mad ass ! his name is Lucentio, and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me Signior Vincentio.

Vin. Lucentio ! oh, he hath murdered his master ; lay hold of him, I charge you, in the Duke's name; oh, my fon, my son, tell me, thou villain where is my son Lucentio?

Tra. Call forth an officer; carry this mad knave to the jail ; father Baptifa, I charge you see, that he be forthcoming

Vin. Carry me to jail?
Grie. Stay, officer, he shall not go to prison.

Bapa Talk not, Signior Gremio : I say, he shall go to prison.

Gre. Take heed, Signior Baptifla, left you conycatch'd in this business; I dare swear, this is the right Vincentio.

Ped. Swear, if thou dar'ft.
Gre. Nay, I dare not swear it.
Tra. Then thou wert best say, that I am not Lucentio.
Gre. Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
Bap. Away with the dotard, to the jail with him!

Enter

Enter Lucentio and Bianca. Vin. Thus strangers may be hald and abus'd ; oh, monstrous villain !

Bion. Oh, we are spoil'd, and yonder he is, deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone..

[Exeunt Biondello, Tranio and Pedant Luc. Pardon, Tweet Father.

(Kneeling,
Vin. Lives my sweet son !
Bian. Pardon, dear father.
Bap. How haft thou offended ? where is Lucentio ?

Luc. Here's Lucentio, right fon to the right Vincentio,
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine:
While counterfeit fuppofers bleer'd thine eyne.

Gre. Here's packing with a witness to deceive us all.

Vin. Where is that damn'd villain Trania,
That fac'd and bray'd me in this matter so?
Bap. Why, tell me, is not this my

Cambio ?
Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Luc. Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did bear my countenance in the town :
And happily I have arriv'd at last
Unto the wished haven of
What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to :
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my fake.

Vin. I'll sit the villain's nose, that would have sent me to the jail.

Bap. But do you hear, Sir, have you married my daughter without aking my good will ?

Vin. Fear not, Baptifta, we will content you, go to:
But I will in, to be reveng'd on this villain. [Exit.

Bap. And I to found the depth of this knavery. (Exit.
Luc. Look not pale, Bianca, thy father will not frown.

[Exeunt. Gre. My cake is dough, but I'll in among the reft, Out of hope of all, but my share of the feaft. (Exit.

[Petruchio and Catharina advancing. Cath. Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado. Pet. First kiss me, Kate, and we will.

Carba

my

bliss

Cath. What, in the midt of the street ?
Pet. What, art thou afham'd of me?
Catb. No, Sir, God forbid! but afham'd to kiss.
Pet.Why,then let's home again: come, firrah, let's away.
Catb.Nay, I will givetheea kiss; now pray thee, love, ftay.

Pet. Is not this well ? come, my sweet Kate;
Better once than never, for never too late. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Lucentio's Apartments.

$

Luc. A

Enter Baptifta, Vincentio, Gremio, Pedant, Lucentio,
Bianca, Trallio, Biondello, Petruchio, Catharina,
Grumio, Hortenfio, and Widow. Tranio's

Jervants bringing in a banquet.
T laft, though long, our jarring notes agree;

And time it is, when raging war is done,
To smile at 'fcapes and perils over-blown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with self-fame kindness welcome thine;
Brother Petruchio, fifter Catharine,
And thou, Hortenfio, with thy loving widow;
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house,
My banquet is to close our stomachs up
After our great good cheer: pray you, fit down;
For now we fit to chat as well as eat.

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat!
Bap. Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
Pei. Padua affords-nothing but what is kind.
Hor. For both our fakes I would that word were true.
Pet. (35) Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his widow.

Wid.

425) Now for my life, Hortenfio fears bis widogo.

Hor. Tben never trust me if I be afoard.] This line was first placed to Hortenfio by the second Folio edition : Mr. Roze follow'd that regulation; and Mr. Pope very judiciously has follow'd him. But the old Quartos and.firft Folio-impreffion rightly place it to the widow : and it is evident by Petruchio's immediate seply, that it must belong to her.. Petruchip says, Hortenfio fears his widow. The widow undesftanding this, as if Parmchaise had meant that Hortenfio affrighted

berg

Wid. Then never trust me, if I be afeard.
Pet. You are very sensible, and yet you

miss

my

fense : I mean, Hortenfio is afeard of you.

Wid. He, that is giddy, thinks the world turns round.
Pet. Roundly replied.
Cath. Mistress, how mean you that ?
Wid. Thus I conceive by him,
Pet. Conceives by me, how likes Hortenso that?
Hor. My widow lays, thus the conceives her tale.
Pet. Very well mended; kiss him for that, good widow,

Cath. He, that is giddy, thinks the world turns round-
I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a fhrew,
Measures my husband's forrow by his woe;
And now you know my meaning.

Cath. A very mean meaning.
Wid. Right, I mean you.
Cath. And I am mean, indeed, respeing you.
Pet. To her, Kate.
Hor. To her, widow.
Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
Hor. That's

my

office.
Pet. Spoke like an officer ; ha', to thee, lad.

[Drinks to Hortenfio. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks ?. Gre. Believe me, Şir, they butt heads together well.

Bian. Head and butt? an hafty-witted body
Would say, your head and bøtt were head and horn..

Vin. Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you
Bian. Ay, but not frighted me, therefore I'll fleep again.
Pet. Nay, that thou Thalt not, fince you have begun:
Have at you for a better jest or two.
Bian. Am I

your bird? I mean to shift my bush : And then pursue me, as you

draw
your

bow.
You are welcome all.

[Exeunt Bianca, Catharine, and Widow. her, put her into fears, denies, that the was afraid of him. Nay, says Petruchio, don't be too sensible, don't miftake my meaning i Hortenfio, I say, is in fear of you.

Pet.

B

Pet. She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio, This bird you aim'd at, tho' you hit it not; Therefore, a health to all that shot and miss'd.

Tra. Oh, Sir, Lucentio flip'd me like his gray-hound, Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

Pet. A good swift fimile, but something currish.

Tra. 'Tis well, Sir, that you hunted for yourself: 'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay.

Bap. Oh, oh, Petruchio, Tranie hits you now.
Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
Hor. Confess, confess, hath he not hit

you

there? Pet. He has a little gaul'd me, I confess; And as the jest did glance away from me, 'Tis ten to ope it maim'd you two outright.

Bap. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio, I think, thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

Pet. Well, I say, no ; and therefore for assurance,
Let's each one send unto his wife, and he
Whose wife is most obedient to come first,
When he doth send for her, shall win the wager.

Hor. Content; -- what wager?
Luc. Twenty crowns.
Pet. Twenty crowns !
I'll venture so much on my hawk or hound,
But twenty times fo much upon my wife.

Luc. A hundred then.
Hor. Content.
Per. A match, 'tis done.
Hor. Who shall begin?

Luc. That will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
Bion. I go.

(Exit. Bap. Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes. Luc. I'll have no halves : I'll bear it all myself.

Re-enter Biondello.
How now, what news ?
Bion. Sir, my mistress, sends you

word That she is busy, and cannot come.

Per.