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And thou, Hortensio, 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.
Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
Hor. For both our fakes, I would that word were

true.

Pet. (25) Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his Wi

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

sense:
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 Hortenfio that?
Hor. My widow says, 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 Shrew, Measures my Husband's forrow by his woe; And now you know my meaning.

(25) Pet. Now, for my Life, Hortenfio fears his Widow.

Hor. Then never trust me if I be afeard.] This Line was first placed to Hortenfio by the second Folio Edition: Mr. Rowe follow'd that Regulation ; and Mr. Pope very judiciously has follow'd him. But the old Quarto's and first Folio Impression rightly place it to the Widow: and it is evident by Petruchio's immediate Reply, that it must belong to her. Petruchio says, Hortenfio fears his Widow. The Widow understanding This, as if Petruchio had meant, that Hortenfio affrighted her, put her into fears, denies, that She was afraid of him. Nay, says Petruchio, don't be too sensible, don't mistake my Meaning ; Hortensia, I say, is in Fear of You,

Cath.

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Cath. A very mean meaning.
Wid. Right, I mean you.
Gath. And I am mcan, indeed, respecting 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 Hortensio. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks ? Gre. Believe me, "Sir, they butt heads together well.

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

Vin. Ay, mistress Bride, hath that awaken'd you?
Bian. Ay, but not frighted me, therefore I'll neep

again. Pet. Nay, that thou shalt not, since you have be .

gun : 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. 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 Simile, but something currish.

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

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

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

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

Pet.

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 so much upon my Wife.

Luc. A hundred then.
Hor. Content.
Pet. A match, 'tís done.
Hor. Who shall begin?

Luc. That will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your Mistress come to me.

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

Bion. I go.

Re-enter Biondello,

How now, what news?
Bion. Sir, my Mistress sends

you

word That she is busie, and cannot come. Pet. How? she's busie and cannot come : is that an

answer? Gre. Ay, and a kind one too : Pray God, Sir, your wife fend you not a worse.

Pet. I hope better.

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go and intreat my wife to come to me forthwith.

[Exit Biondello. Pet. Oh, ho! intreat her! nay, then the needs must

come.

Hor. I am afraid, Sir, do you what you can,

Enter Biondello. Yours will not be intreated: now, where's my wife?

Bion. She says, you have some goodly jest in hand; She will not come : The bids you come to her.

Pet.

Pet. Worse and worse, she will not come !
Oh vile, intolerable, not to be indur'd:
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your Mistress,
Say, I command her to come to me. [Exit Gru.

Hor. I know her answer.
Pet. What?
Hor. She will not.
Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there's an end.

Enter Catharina.

Bap. Now, by my hollidam, here comes Catharine ! Cath. What is your will, Sir, that you send for me? Pet. Where is your Sister, and Hortensio's Wife? Cath. They fit conferring by the parlour fire.

Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to come, Swinge me them foundly forth unto their husbands : Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.

[Exit Catharina. Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Hor. And so it is: I wonder, what it boads.

Pet. Marry, peace it boads, and love, and quiet life,
And awful rule, and right supremacy :
And, to be short, what not, that's sweer and happy.

Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns,
Another dowry to another Daughter;
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.

Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.

Enter Catharina, Bianca and Widow. See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives As prisoners to her womanly persuasion : Catharine, that Cap of yours becomes you not; Off with that bauble, throw it under foot. (She pulls off her cap, and throws it down.

Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to Tigh, 'Till I be brought to such a filly pafs.

Bian. Fie, what a foolish duty call you this ?

Luc. I would, your duty were as foolifh too!
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Cost me an hundred crowns fince supper-time.

Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty.
Pet. Catharine, I charge thee, tell these headftrong

Women,

What duty they owe to their Lords and Husbands.
Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have

no telling.
Pet. Come on, I fay, and firft begin with her.
Wid. She Thall not.
Pet. I fay, the shall; and first begin with her.

Cath. Fie! fie! unknit that threatning unkind brow,
And dart not fcornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Governor.
It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads ;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ;
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A Woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will dain to lip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy Husband is thy Lord, thy Life, thy Keeper,
Thy Head, thy Soveraign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and lands
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou ly'st warm at home, secure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt. .
Such duty as the Subject owes the Prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband :
And when she’s froward, peevish, sullen, sower,
And not obedient to his honest will:

; What is The but a foul contending Rebel, And graceless Traitor to her loving Lord?

VOL. II,

Аа

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