Pet. Why this was moulded on a Porrenger,
A Velvet Difh; Fie, fie, 'tis lewd and filthy;
Why 'tis a Cockle or a Wallnut-fhell,
A Knack, a Toy, á Trick, a Baby's Cap:
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.
Kath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time,
And Gentlewomen wear fuch Caps as these.
Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
And not 'till then.
Hor. That will not be in haste.
Kath. Why, Sir, I truft I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will. I am no Child, no Babe,
Your Betters have endur'd me, fay my mind;
And if you cannot, beft you ftop your Ears.
My Tongue will tell the Anger of my Heart,
Or elfe my Heart concealing it will break :
And rather than it fhall, I will be free,
Even to the uttermoft as I please in words.
Pet. Why thou fay'ft true, it is a paltry Cap,
A custard Coffin, a Bauble, a filken Pie,
I love thee well in that thou lik'ft it not.
Kath. Love me, or love me not, I like the Cap,
And it I will have, or I will have none.
Pet. Thy Gown, why ay; come, Taylor, let us fee't. O mercy God, what masking Stuff is here?
What? this a Sleeve? 'tis like a Demi-cannon;
What, up and down carv'd like an Apple Tart?
Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flish, and flash,
Like to a Cenfor in a Barber's Shop:
Why what a Devil's name, Taylor, call'ft thou this?
Hor. I fee fhe's like to have neither Cap nor Gown.
Tay. You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the Fashion and the, Time.
Pet. Marry and did: But if you be remembred,
I did not bid you marr it to the Time.
Go hop me over every Kennel home,
For you shall hop without my Custom, Sir:
I'll none of it; hence, make your best of it.
Kath. I never faw a better fafhion'd Gown,
More queint, more pleafing, nor more commendable:
Belike you mean to make a Puppet of me.
Pet. Why true, he means to make a Puppet of thee.
Tay. She fays your Worship means to make a Puppet of
Pet. Oh most monftrous Arrogance !
Thou lyeft, thou Thread, thou Thimble,
Thou Yard, three Quarters, half Yard, Quarter, Nail,
Thou Flea, thou Nit, thou winter Cricket thou !
Brav'd in mine own House with a Skein of Thread!
Away, thou Rag, thou Quantity, thou Remnant,
Or I shall fo be-mete thee with thy Yard,
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st:
I tell thee I, that thou haft marr'd her Gown.
Tay. Your Worship is deceiv'd, the Gown is made
Juft as my Mafter had direction.
Grumio gave Order how it fhould be done.
Gru. I gave him no Order, I gave him the Stuff.
Tay. But how did you defire it should be made?
Gru. Marry, Sir, with Needle and Thread.
Tay. But did you not request to have it Cut?
Gru. Thou haft fac'd many things.
Gru. Face not me: Thou haft brav'd many Men, brave not me; I will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I fay unto thee, I bid thy Mafter cut out the Gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou lieft.
Tay. Why here is the Note of the Fashion to teftify.
Pet. Read it.
Gru. The Note lies in's Throat if he say I said so.
Tay. Imprimis, a loose-bodied Gown.
Gru. Mafter, if ever I faid loofe-bodied Gown, fow me in the Skirts of it, and beat me to Death with a Bottom of brown Thread: I faid a Gown.
Tay. With a fmall compaft Cape.
Gru. I confefs the Cape.
Tay. With a trunk Sleeve.
Gru. I confefs two Sleeves.
Tay. The Sleeves curiously cut.
Pet. Ay there's the Villany.
Gru. Error i'th Bill, Sir, Error i'th' Bill: I commanded the Sleeves fould be cut out, and fow'd up again, and that
I'll prove upon thee, tho' thy little Finger be armed in a Thimble.
Tay. This is true that I fay, and I had thee in place where, thou fhould'ft know it.
Gru. I am for thee ftraight: take thou the Bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he fhall have no odds.
Pet. Well, Sir, in brief the Gown is not for me.
Gru. You are 'th' right, Sir, 'tis for my Mistress.
Pet. Go take it up unto thy Master's use.
Gru. Villain, not for thy Life: Take up my Mistress's Gown for thy Master's ufe!
Pet. Why, Sir, what's your Conceit in that??
Gru. Oh, Sir, the Conceit is deeper than you think for; Take up my Miftrefs's Gown unto his Mafter's ufe.
Pet. Hortenfio, fay thou wilt fee the Taylor paid. [Afide. Go take it hence, be gone, and fay no more.
Hor. Taylor, I'll pay thee for thy Gown to morrow,
Take no unkindness of his hafty Words:
Away I fay, commend me to thy Master.
[Exit Tail. Pet. Well, come my Kate, we will unto your Father's,
Even in thefe honeft mean habiliments:
Our Purfes fhall be proud, our Garments poor;
For 'tis the Mind that makes the Body rich.
And as the Sun breaks through the darkest Clouds,
So Honour peereth in the meanest Habit.
What is the Jay more precious than the Lark,
Because his Feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the Adder better than the Eel,
Because his painted Skin contents the Eye?
Oh no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor Furniture, and mean Array.
If thou account'ft it Shame, lay it on me,
And therefore Frolick; we will hence forthwith,
To Feaft and Sport us at thy Father's House.
Go call my Men, and let us ftraight to him,
And bring our Horfes unto Long-lane end,
There will we mount, and thither walk on Foot.
Let's fee, I think 'tis now fome feven a Clock,
And well we may come there by Dinner time.
Kath. I dare affure you, Sir, 'tis almost two;
And 'twill be Supper-time e'er you come there.
Pet. It shall be feven e'er I go to Horse:
Look what I fpeak, or do, or think to do,
You are ftill croffing it; Sirs, let't alone,
I will not go to day, and e'er I do,
It fhall be what a Clock I say it is.
Hor. Why fo: This Gallant will command the Sun. [Exeunt Pet. Kath. and Hor.
Enter Tranio, and the Pedant dreft like Vincentio. Tra. Sirs, this is the House, please it you that I call. Ped. Ay what elfe, and but I be deceived, Signior Baptifta may remember me
Near twenty Years ago in Genoa.
Tra. Where we were Lodgers, at the Pegafus : 'Tis well, and hold your own in any cafe
With fuch Austerity as longeth to a Father.
Ped. I warrant you: But, Sir, here comes your Boy; 'Twere good he were school'd.
Tra. Fear you not him; Sirrah Biondello, Now do your Duty throughly I advise
Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
Bion. Tut, fear not me.
Tra. But haft thou done thy Errand to Baptifta? Bion. I told him that your Father was in Venice, And that you look'd for him in Padua.
Tra. That's a tall Fellow, hold thee that to drink,
Here comes Baptifta; fet your Countenance, Sir.
Enter Baptifta and Lucentio.
Tra. Signior Baptifta, you are happily met:
Sir, this is the Gentleman I told you of;
I pray you stand, good Father, to me now,
Give me Bianca for my Patrimony.
Ped. Soft, Son. Sir, by your leave, having come to Padma
To gather in fome Debts, my Son Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty Cause
Of Love between your Daughter and himself:
And for the good Report I hear of you,
And for the Love he beareth to your Daughter,
And the to him; to stay him not too long,
I am content in a good Father's care
To have him match'd, and if you please to like
No worse than I, Sir, upon fome Agreement,
Me fhall you find moft ready and moft willing
With one confent to have her fo beftowed:
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well.
Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to fay,
Your plainnefs and your fhortnefs please me well:
Right true it is, your Son Lucentio here
Doth love my Daughter, and she loveth him,
Or both diffemble deeply their Affections;
And therefore if you fay no more than this,
That like a Father you will deal with him,
And pafs my Daughter a fufficient Dowry,
The Match is made, and all is done,
Your Son fhall have my Daughter with confent.
Tra. I thank you, Sir, where then do
We be affied, and fuch affurance ta'en,
As fhall with either Parts Agreement stand.
Bap. Not in my Houfe, Lucentio, for you
Pitchers have Ears, and I have many Servants;
Befides old Gremio is hearkning ftill,
And haply we might be interrupted.
Tra. Then at my Lodging, and it like you, Sir;
There doth my Father lye; and there this Night
We'll pafs the Bufinefs privately and well:
Send for your Daughter by your Servant here,
My Boy fhall fetch the Scrivener prefently.
The worft is this, that at fo flender warning,
You are like to have a thin and fender Pittance.
Bap. It likes me well.
Cambio, hie you home, and bid Bianca make her ready
ftraight:
And if you will, tell what hath happen'd,
Lucentio's Father is arriv'd in Padua,
And how fhe's like to be Lucentio's Wife.
Luc. I pray the gods the may with all my Heart, [Exit.
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