Near twenty years ago in Genoa,
Where we were lodgers, at the Pegafus.
Tra 'Tis well, and hold your own in
With fuch aufterity as 'longeth to a father.

Enter Biondello.

any

cafe

Ped. I warrant you: but, Sir, here comes your boy; "Twere good he were school'd.

Tra. Fear you not him; firrah, Biondello, Now do your duty throughly, I advife you: 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 this day in Padua.

Tra. Th' art a tall fellow, hold thee that to drink? Here comes Baptifla; fet your countenance, Sir.

SCENE X. Enter Baptifta and Lucentio Tra. Signior Baptifta, you are happily met. Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of;

I pray you ftand, good father, to me now,

Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

Ped Soft, fon, Sir, by your leave, having come to Padua To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio Made me acquainted with a weighty caufe 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 ftay 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 bestowed: 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 pleafe me well.. Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here

Doth love my daughter, and the loveth him,

Or

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 fon fhall have my daughter with consent.

Tra. I thank you, Sir. Where then do you know best, Be we affied; and fuch affurance ta'en,

As fhall with either part's agreement ftand?

Sir,

Bap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know,
Pitchers have ears, and I have many. fervants;
Befides, old Gremio is heark'ning ftill;
And, haply, then we might be interrupted.
Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you,
There doth my father lie; and there this night
We'll pass the business privately and well:
Send for your daughter by your fervant here,
My boy fhall fetch the fcrivener presently.
The worst is this, that at fo flender warning
You're like to have a thin and flender pittance.

Bap. It likes me well. Go, Cambio, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready ftraight;

And if you will, tell what hath happen'd here:
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. Tra. Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone. Signior Baptifta, fhall I lead the way?

Welcome! one mefs is like to be your cheer.

Come, Sir, we will better it in Pifa.

Bap. I'll follow you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE XI. Enter Lucentio and Biondello.

Bion. Cambio.

Luc. What fay'ft thou, Biondello?

Bion. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon you. Luc. Biondello, what of that?

Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but h'as left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his figns and tokens. Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.

Bion. Then thus. Baptifta is fafe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful fon.

Luc. And what of him?

Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the fupper.

Luc. And then?

Bion. The old prieft at St. Luke's church is at your command at all hours.

Luc. And what of all this?

Bion. I cannot tell, except they are bufied about a counterfeit affurance; take you affurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum folúm; to th' church take the prieft, clerk, and fome fufficient honeft witneffes: if this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, but bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

Luc. Hear'ft thon, Biondello?

Bion. I cannot farry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon as "the went to the garden for pariley to stuff a rabbet; and fo may you, Sir; and fo, adieu, Sir, my mater hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix.

Luc. I may, and will, if fhe be fo contented:
She will be pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt?
Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:
It fhall go hard if Cambio go without her.

SCENE XII. A green lane.

Enter Petruchio, Catharina, and Hortenfio.

[Exit

[Exit.

Pet. Come on, o' God's name, once more tow'rds our father's.

Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the moon!
Cath. The moon! the fun: it is not moon-light now.
Pet. I fay, it is the moon that fhines fo bright.
Cath. I know it is the fun that fhines fo bright.
Pet. Now by my mother's fon, and that's myself,
It fhall be moon, or ftar, or what I lift,
Or ere journey to my father's house:
Go on, and fetch our horfes back again.
Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft!

Hor.

Hor. Say as he fays, or we fhall never go.

Cath. Forward I pray, fince we are come fo far,
And be it moon, or fun, or what you please:
And if you pleafe to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth I vow it fhall be fo for me.
Pet. I fay it is the moon.

Cath. I know it is the moon.

Pet. Nay, then you lie; it is the bleffed fun.
Cath. Then, God be blefs'd, it is the bleffed fun.
But fun it is not, when you fay it is not;
And the moon changes, even as your mind.
What will you have it nam'd, even that it is,
And fo it thall be fo for Catharine.

Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won.

Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl should run; And not unluckily against the bias.

But foft, fome company is coming here.

SCENE XIII. Enter Vincentio.

Good-morrow, gentle Mistress, where away?

[To Vincentio. Tell me, fweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Haft thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? Such war of white and red within her cheeks! What ftars do fpangle heaven with fuch beauty, As thofe two eyes become that heav'nly face? Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee: Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's fake. Hor. He will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.

* Cath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and

fweet,

VOL. II.

G g

Whither

we find two

Mr. Pope.

In the first fetch of this play, printed in 1607, Speeches in this place worth preferving, and feeming to be of the hand

of Shakespeare, tho' the rest of that play is far inferior.

Fair lovely maiden, young and affable,
More clear of hue, and far more beautiful
Than precious fardonyx, or purple rocks
Of amethysts, or gliftering hyacinth-

-Sweet Catharine, this lovely woman

Cath.

Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of fo fair a child;
Happier the man whom favourable stars
Allot thee for his lovely bedfellow!

Pet. Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad! This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered, And not a madman, as thou say'st he is.

Cath. Pardon, old father, my mistaken eyes; That have been so bedazzled with the fun, That every thing I look on seemeth green. Now I perceive, thou art a reverend father; Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad miftaking.

Pet. Do, good old grandfire, and withal make known
Which way thou traveHeft; if along with us,
We fhall be joyful of thy company.

Vin. Fair Sir, and you my merry Mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amaz'd me;
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pifa;
And bound I am to Padua, there to vifit

A fon of mine, which long I have not seen.
Pet. What is his name?
Vin. Lucentio, gentle Sir.

I

Pet. Happily met, the happier for thy fon;
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
may intitle thee
my loving father:
The fifter of my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor. be not griev'd, fhe is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Befide, fo qualified, as may befeem
The fpoufe of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio,
And wander we to fee thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

Cath. Fair lovely Lady, bright and chryftalline,
Beauteous and ftately as the eye-train'd bird;
As glorious as the morning wafh'd with dew,
Within whofe eyes she takes her dawning beams,
And golden fummer fleeps upon thy cheeks.
Wrap up thy radiations in fome cloud,
Left that thy beauty make this ftately town
Unhabitable as the burning zone,
With fweet reflections of thy lovely face.

Vin.