Curt. Both on one horse?
Gru. What's that to thee?
Curt. Why, a horse.

Gru. Tell thou the tale. - But hadst thou not croft me, thou should’st have heard how her horse fell, and the under her horse: thou should'st have heard in how miry a place, how she was bemoil'd, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me because her horse stumbled, how the waded through the dirt to pluck him off me; how he swore, how the pray'd that never pray'd before; how I cry'd, how the horses ran away ; how her bridle was burst, how I lost my crupper ; with many things of worthy memory, which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to thy grave.

Curt. By this reckoning he is more shrew than the. Gru. Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you

all Thall find, when he comes home. But what talk I of this ? call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugerfop, and the rest: let their heads be sleekly comb'd, their blue coats brush'd, and their garters of an indifferent knit; let them curt'fie with their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair of my master's horse tail, 'till they kiss their hands. Are they all

ready?

Gurt. They are.
Gru. Call them forth.

Curt. Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to countenance my

mistress. Gru. Why, she hath a face of her own. Curt. Who knows not that?

Gru. Thou, it seems, that call'st for company to countenance her.

Curt. I call them forth to credit her.

Enter four or five Serving-men. Gru. Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. Nat. Welcome home, Grumio. Phil. How now, Grumio ? Fos. What, Gruinio!

Nich. Fellow Grumio!
Nath. How now, old lad.

Gru. Welcome, you ; how now, you; what, you; fellow, you; and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready, and all things neat?

Nat. All things are ready; how near is our master?

Gru. E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not

cock’s pallion, silence! I hear my master.

Enter Petruchio and Kate.

Pet. Where be these knaves? what, no man at door to hold my stirrup, nor to take my horse? where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

All Serv. Here, here, Şir; here, Sir.

Pet. Here, Sir, here, Sir, here, Sir, here, Sir?
You loggerheaded and unpolish'd grooms :
What ? no attendance? no regard? no duty ?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

Gru. Here, Sir, as foolish as I was before.
Pet. You peasant swain, you whoreson, malt-horse

drudge,
Did not I bid thee meet me in the park,
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?

Gru. Nathaniel's coat, Sir, was not fully made: And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i'th' heel: There was no link to colour Peter's hat, And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing: There were none fine, but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory, The rest were ragged, old and beggarly, Yet as they are, here are they come to meet you. Pet. Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.

[Exeunt Servants. Where is the life that late I led ?

[Singing. Where are those sit down, Kate, And welcome. Şoud, soud, soud, foud.

Enter Servants with Supper. Why, when, I say? nay, good sweet Kate, be merry, Off with my boots, you rogue : you villains, when?

It was the Friar of Orders grey,

[Sings,
As he forth walked on his way.
Out, out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry.
Take that, and mind the plucking off the other.

[Strikes him. Be merry, Kate: some water here; what hoa!

Enter one with water.
Where's my spaniel Troilus? fitrah, get you hence,
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither :
One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with,
Where are my flippers ? Thall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily :
You whoreson villain, will you let it fall?

Cath. Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.

Pet. A whoreson, beatle-headed, flap-ear'd knave:
Come, Kate, çit down, I know, you have a stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I ?
What's this, mutton?

1 Ser. Yes.
Pet. Who brought it?
Ser. I.

Pet. 'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat:
What dogs are these? where is the rascal cook?
How durit you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
And serve it thus to me that love it not?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups and all:

Throws the meat, &c. about the stage,
You headless jolt-heads, and unmanner'd Naves !
What do you ĝrumble? I'll be with you straight.

Cath. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
The meat was well, if you were so contented.

Pet. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dry'd away,
And I exprefly am forbid to touch it:
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere, that Both of us did fast,
Since, of our selves, our selves are cholerick,
Than feed it with such over-roafted Aeth:
Be patient, for to morrow't shall be mended,

And

And for this night we'll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. [Exe.

Enter Servants severally.
Nath. Peter didst ever see the like?
Peter. He kills her in her own humour.
Gru. Where is he?

Enter Curtis, a Servant.
Curt. In her chamber, making a sermon of conti-

neney to her,
And rails and swears, and rates; that she, poor soul,
Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
And sits as one new-risen from a dream.
Away, away, for he is coming hither. [Exeunt.

Enter Petruchio.
Pet. Thus have I politickly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully:
My faulcon now is sharp, and passing empty,
And till she stoop, she must not be full-gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come, and know her keeper's Call;
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites,
That bait and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat to day, nor none shall eat.
Last night she slept not, nor to night shall not :
As with the meat, fome undeserved fault
I'll find about the making of the bed.
And here I'll fing the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, that way the sheets;
Ay; and, amid this hurly, I'll pretend,
That all is done in reverend care of her,
And in conclusion, the fhall watch all night;
And if the chance to nod, I'll rail and brawl,
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour,
He that knows better how to tame a Shrew,
Now lec him speak, 'tis charity to thew.

[Exit. SCENE

SCEN E, before Baptista's House.

Enter Tranio and Hortensio.
S't possible, friend Licio, that Bianca (19)
I tell you, Sir, she bears me fair in hand.

Hor. To satisfy you, Sir, in what I said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching.

[They fand by
Enter Bianca and Lucentio.
Luc. Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
Bian. What, master, read you? first, resolve me that.
Luc. I read That I profess, the art of love.
Bian, And may you prove, Sir, master of your art!
Luc. While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my
heart.

[They retire backward. Hor. Quick proceeders!. marry! now, tell me, I pray, you that durft swear that your mistress Bianca loy'd none in the world so well as Lucentio.

(19) Is't possible, friend Licio, &c.] This Scene Mr. Pope, upon what Authority I can't pretend to guess, has in his Editions made the Fira of the Fifth A&: in doing which, he has shewn the very Power and Force of Criticism. The Consequence of this judicious Regulation is, that two unpardonable Absurdities are fix'd upon the Author, which he could not possibly have committed. For, in the first place, by this Shuffling the Scenes out of their true Position, we find Hortenfio, in the fourth A&, already gone from Baptifta's to Petruchio's Countryhouse; and afterwards in the Beginning of the fifth A&t we find him first forming the. Resolution of quitting Bianca; and Tranio immediately informs Us, he is gone to the Taming-School to Petruchio. There is a Figure, indeed, in Rhetorick, calld, Usceg Teitepor: But this is an Abuse of it, which the Rhetoricians will never adopt upon Mr. Pope's Authority. Again, by this Misplacing, the Pedant makes his firit Entrance, and quits the Stage with Tranio in order to go and dress himself like Vincentio, whom he was to personate: but his Second Entrance is

upon

the very Heels of his Exit; and without any Interval of an Act, or one Word intervening, he comes out again equipp'd like Vincentio. If such a Critick be fit to publish a Stage-Writer, I shall not envy Mr. Pope's Admirers, if they should think fit to applaud his Sagacity. I have replac'd the Scenes in that Order, in which I found çhem in the Old Books.