Bap. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katharina. Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly.

Pet. You wrong me, signior Gremio; give me leave.

I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That,-hearing of her beauty, and her wit,
Her affability, and bashful modesty,

Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,—
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine,

[Presenting Hortensio.

Cunning in musick, and the mathematicks,
To instruct her fully in those sciences,
Whereof, I know, she is not ignorant:
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong;
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

Bap. You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake:

But for my daughter Katharine,—this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
Pet. I see, you do not mean to part with her;

Or else you like not of my company.

Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name? Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son,

A man well known throughout all Italy.

Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his

sake.

Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,

Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too:
Baccare! you are marvellous forward.

Pet. O, pardou me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.

Gre. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.

I

Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, freely give unto you this young scholar, [Presenting Lucentio,] that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in musick and mathematicks: his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service.

Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio.-But, gentle sir, [To Tranio.] methinks, you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

Tra. Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own;
That, being a stranger in this city here,
Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair, and virtuous.

Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
In the preferment of the eldest sister:
This liberty is all that I request,—

That, upon knowledge of my parentage,

I

may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo,

And free access and favour as the rest.

And, toward the education of your daughters,
I here bestow a simple instrument,

And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:

If you accept them, then their worth is great.
Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray?
Tra. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.

Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report

I know him well: you are very welcome, sir.

Take you [To Hor.] the lute, and you [To Luc.] the set of books,

You shall go see your pupils presently.

Holla, within!

Enter a Servant.

Sirrah, lead

These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them

both,

These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit Servant, with Hortensio, Lucentio, and Biondello.

We will go walk a little in the orchard,

And then to dinner: You are passing welcome,
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.

Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, And every day I cannot come to woo.

You knew my father well; and in him, me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better'd rather than decreas'd:
Then tell me,-if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?

Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands;
And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.
Pet. And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of
Her widowhood,-be it that she survive me,—
In all my lands and leases whatsoever:

Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, This is, her love; for that is all in all.

Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together, They do consume the thing that feeds their fury: Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all: So I to her, and so she yields to me;

For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.

Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed!

But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.

Pet. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds, That shake not, though they blow perpetually.

Re-enter Hortensio, with his head broken.

Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale?

Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mu

sician?

Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier;

Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?

Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me. I did but tell her, she mistook her frets, And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering; When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,

Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume with them:
And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;
And there I stood amazed for a-while,

As on a pillory, looking through the lute:
While she did call me,-rascal fiddler,
And-twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms,
As she had studied to misuse me so.

Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
I love her ten times more than e'er I did:

O, how I long to have some chat with her!

Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited:

Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.——
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us;
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?

Pet. I pray you do; I will attend her here,

[Exeunt Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, and Hortensio. And woo her with some spirit when she comes. Say, that she rail; Why, then I'll tell her plain, She sings as sweetly as a nightingale: Say, that she frown; I'll say, she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew: Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word; Then I'll commend her volubility, And say-she uttereth piercing eloquence: If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks, As though she bid me stay by her a week; If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day

When I shall ask the banns, and when be married:But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.