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Tra. O despightful love, unconftant womankind! I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor. Miftake no more, I am not Licio,
Nor a musician, as I seem to be ;
But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
For such a One as leaves a gentleman,
And makes a God of such a cullion
Know, Sir, that I am callid Hortensio.

Tra. Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
Of your entire affection to Bianca ;
And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
I will with you, if you be so contented,
Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
Hor. See, how they kiss and court! Signior

Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
Never to woo her more; but do forfwear her,
As one unworthy all the former favours,
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
Never to marry her, tho' fhe intreat.
Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him.
Hor. Would all the world, but he, had quite forsworn

For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
I will be married to a wealthy widow,
Ere three days pass, which has as long lov'd me,
As I have loy'd this proud disdainful haggard.
And so farewel, Signior Lucentio.
Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
Shall win my love : and so I take my leave,
In resolution as I swore before.

Tra. Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace,
As longeth to a lover's blessed case:
Nay, I have ta’en you napping, gentle Love,
And have forsworn you with Hortenfio.

[Lucentio and Bianca come forward. Bian. Tranio, you jeft: but have you both for

sworn me?
Trą. Mistress, we have.


(Exit. Hor.

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· Lat. Then we ure rid of Licio.

Tra. I'faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.

Bian. God give him joy!
Tra. Ay, and he'll came her.
Bian. He says lo, Tranio.
Tra. 'Faith, he's gone unto the taming school,
Bian. The taming school? what, is there such a

Tra. Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master ;
That teacherh tricks eleven and twenty long,
To tame a Shrew, and charm her chattering tongue.

Enter Biondello, running.
Bion. Oh master, master, I have watch'd so long,
That I'm dog-weary, but at last I spied (20)
An ancient Engle, going down the hill,
Will serve the turn.

Tra. What is he, Biondello ?
Bion. Master, a mercantant, or elle a pedant;

but at laft I spird
An ancient Angel going down the Hill,

Will serve the turn.] Tho' all the printed Copies agree in this Reading, I am confident, that hakespeare intended no Profanation here; nor indeed any, Compliment to this old Man who was to be impos'd upon, and made a Property of. The Word I have restor'd, certainly retrieves the Author's Meaning: and means, either in its first Signification, a Burdash; (for the Word is of Spanish Extraction, Ingle, which is equivalent to inguen of the Latines;) or, in its metaphorical Sense, a Gull, a Cully, one fit to be made a Tool of. And in both Şenses it is frequently us’d by B. Jonson. Cynthia's Revels.

and sweat for every venial Trespass we cammit, as fome Author: would, if he had such fine Engles as we. The Case is alter'd ; (a Comedy not printed among B. Jonson's Works)

What, Signior Antonio Balladino! welcome, sweet Engle. Poetaster.

What, pall I have my son a Stager now ? an Engle for Players? And he likewise uses it, as a Verb, in the fame Play, signifying to be. guile, defraud.

P'll prefently go, and engle fame Broker for a Poet's Gown, and bespeak a Garland.



I know not what; but formal in apparel; (21)
In gate and countenance surly like a father.

Luc. And what of him, Tranio ?

Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale,
I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
And give him assurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio :
Take in your love; and then let me alone.

[Ex. Luc. and Bian.

Enter a Pedant. Ped. God save you, Sir.

Tra. And you, Sir ; you are welcome :
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?

Ped. Sir, at the farthest for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
And so to Tripoly, if God lend me life.

Tra. What countryman, I pray?
Ped. Of Mantua.

Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid !
And come to Padua, careless of your Life?

Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.

Tra. ?Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua ; know you not the cause?
Your ships are staid at Venice, and the Duke
(For private quarrel 'twixt your Duke and him,)
Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
'Tis marvel, but that you're but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.

Ped. Alas, Sir; it is worfe for me than so;
For I have bills for mony by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.

Tra. Well, Sir, to do you courtesie, This will I do, and this will I adyise you; (21)

but formal in Apparel; In Gate and Countenance surely like a Father.] I have made bold to read, furly, and surely, I believe, I am right in doing so. Our Poet always represents his Pedants, imperious and magisterial. Besides, Trario's Directions to the Pedant for his Behaviour vouch for my Emendation.

'Tis well; and hold your own in any Cafe,
With such Austerity as longeth to a Father:


First, tell me, have you ever been at Pifa?

Ped. Ay, Sir, in Pisa have I often been;
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio ?

Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him i
A merchant of incomparable wealth.

Tra. He is my father, Sir; and, footh to say, In count'nance somewhat doth resemble you. Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all

[Afide. Tra. To save your life in this extremity, This favour will I do you for his fake; And think it not the worst of all your fortunes, That you are like to Sir Vincentio : His name and credit shall you undertake, And in my house you shall be friendly lodg’d: Look, that you take upon You as you Mould. You understand me, Sir: so fhall you stay 'Till you have done


business in the city. If this be court’sie, Sir, accept of it.

Ped. Oh, Sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The Patron of my life and liberty.

Tra. Then go with me to make the matter goodi
This by the way I let you understand,
My father is here look'd for every day,
To pass assurance of a dowre in marriage
'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these Circumstances I'll instruct you:
Go with Me, Sir, to cloath you as becomes you.

[Exeunt. Enter Catharina and Grumio. Gru. No, no, forsooth, I dare not for my

life. Cath. The more my wrong, the more his spite ap

pears :
What, did he marry me to familh me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon intreaty, have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,



Nor never needed that I should intreat,
Am stary'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed ;
And that, which spights me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:
At who would say, if I should sleep or eat
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death :
I pr’ythee go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

Gru. What say you to a neat's foot?
Cath. 'Tis passing good; I pr’ythee, let me have it.

Gru. I fear, it is too fegmatick a meat :
How say you to a fat tripe finely broild ?

Cath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru. I cannot tell; — I fear, it's cholerick:
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard ?

Cath. A dish, that I do love to feed upon.
Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard reft.
Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mus-

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef.
Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,

[beats bim.
That feed'ft me with the very name of meat :
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you,
That triumph thus upon my misery!
Go, get thee gone, I say.

Enter Petruchio and Hortensio, with meat.
Pet. How fares my Kate? what Sweeting, all amort?
Hor. Mistress, what cheer?
Cath. ’Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me;
Here, lore, thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat my self, and bring it thee :
I'm sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? nay then, thou lov'st it not:


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