Tra. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine own,
That, being a stranger in this City here,
Do make myself a luitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous :
Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
In the preferment of the eldest filter.
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.

[They greet privateb. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence I Tra. Of Pisa, Sir, fon to Vincentio. Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report I know him well; you are very welcome, Sir. Take you the lute, and you the set of books,

[To Hortenfio and Lucentio, You shall go see your pupils presently. Holla, within !

prays

Enter a Servant.

go

1

Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my two daughters ; and then tell them both,
These are their tutors, bid them use them well.

[Exit Serv, with Hortensio and Lucentior,
We will walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner. Your are passing welcome,
And so, I pray you all, to think yourselves.

Pet. Signior Baptifla, my business asketh hafte,
And every day I cannot come to wooe.
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

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, l'll allure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leales 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,
That is, her love ; for that is all in all.

Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory as the proud-minded.
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
Tho' little fije grows great with little wind,
Yet extream guíts will blow out fire and all :
So I to her, and so the yields to me,
For I am rough, and wooe not like a babe.

Bap. Well may'st thou wove, and liappy 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, tho they blow perpetually.

Enter Hortensio with his head broke.

Bap. How now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?
Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
Bup. 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,
When, with a molt impatient devilish 1pirit,
Frets call you them ? quoth she: I'll fume with them :
And with that word the ttruck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way,
And there I stood amazed for a while,

As

As on a pillory, looking through the lute :
While she did call me rascal, fidler,
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;
Oh, how I long to have some chat with her!

Bap. Well, go with me, and be not fo 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 Kute to you?
Pet. I pray you, do. I will attend her here,

[Exit Bap. with Grem. Horten. and Tranio And wooe her with some spirit when she comes. Say, that the rail; why, then I'll tell her plain, She fings as sweetly as a nightingale: Say, that she frowns ; I'll say, she looks as clear,' As morning roses newly wah'd with dew; Say, me 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 tho' fhe 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.

Enter Catharina.

Good-morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.
Cath. Well have you heard, but something hard of

hearing
They call me Catharine; that do talk of me.

Pet. You lye, in faith, for you are callid plain Kate. And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curft : But Kate, the prettiest Kate in chriftendom, Kate of Kate-ball, my super-dainty Kate, (For dainties are all Cates) and therefore Kare;

Take

Take this of me, Kate of

my

confolation ! Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every Town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty founded, Yet not so deeply as to thee blongs : Myself am mov'd to wooe thee for my wife. Cath. Mov’d? in good time; let him that mov'd you

Pet. A herald, Kate? oh, put me in thy books.
Cath. What is your crest, a coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, fo Kate will be my hen.
Cath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.
Pet. Nay, come, Kate; come, you must not look so fower.
Gath. It is my falhion when I see a crab.
Pet.Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not so fower.
Cath. There is, there is.
Pet. Then, shew it me.
Cath. Had I a glass, I would.
Pet. What, you mean my face?
Cath. Well aim'd of such a young one.
Pet. Now by St. George, I am too young

for you.
Cath. Yet you are wither'd.
Pet. 'Tis with cares.
Cath, I care not.
Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in footh, you 'scape not fo.
Cath. I chafe you if I tarry ; let me go.

Pet. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle : 'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find Report a very liar; For thou art pleasant, gamesom, pafling courteous, But flow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers. Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look afcance, Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will, Nor haft thou pleasure to be cross in talk: But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers, With gentle conf'rence, soft and affable. Why doth the world report, that Kate doth limp? Oh sland'rous world! Kate, like the hazle-twig, Is ftrait and sender; and as brown in hue As hazle-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels. O, let me see thee walk : thou doft not halt.

Cath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'it command,

Pet. Did ever Dian fo become a grove,
As Kate this chamber with her princely gaite ?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And then let Kate be chart, and Dian sportful !

Cath,