Bap. What, in my sight?-Bianca, get thee in, Kath. Will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see, Till I can find occasion of revenge, [Exit KATHARINA, Bup. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I? 'But who comes here? Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man; PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a Musician; and TRANIO, with BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books. Gre. Good-morrow, neighbour Baptista. Bap. Good-morrow, neighbour Gremio: God save you, gentlemen! Pet. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter Call'd Katharina, fair, and virtuous ? Bap. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katharina. 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 wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,- Within your house, to make mine eye the witness Of that report which I so oft have heard. [Presenting HORTENSIO. Bap. You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake: But for my daughter Katharine, this I know, Pet. I see, you do not mean to part with her; 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, pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing. Gre. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing. 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, I freely A proverbial exclamation then in use. 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; Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, 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, And this small packet of Greek and Latin books: 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. We will go walk a little in the orchard, Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, And every day I cannot come to woo. You knew my father well; and in him, me, 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 Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, 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 : 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 musician? 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; Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume with them: As on a pillory, looking through the lute; A fret in music is the stop which causes or regulates the vibration of the string. 3 Paltry musician. |