How but well, Sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAP. Why, how now, daughter Katharine! in your
KATH. Call you me daughter? now, I promise you,
You have shew'd a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
PET. Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world, That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her: If she be curst, it is for policy;
For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel, And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
And, to conclude, we have 'greed so well together That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
KATH. I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first. GRE.
Petruchio! she says she 'll see thee hang'd first. TRA. Is this your speeding? nay, then good night our pact! PET. Be patient, Gentlemen; I choose her for myself: If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone, That she shall still be curst in company.
I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate! She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss She vied1 so fast, protesting oath on oath, That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices! 'tis a world2 to see How tame, when men and women are alone, A meacock3 wretch can make the curstest shrew. Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day. Provide the feast, Father, and bid the guests; I will be sure my Katharine shall be fine. BAP. I know not what to say: but give me your hands; God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
PET. Father, and Wife, and Gentlemen, adieu; I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace: We will have rings, and things, and fine array; And kiss me, Kate; we will be married o' Sunday.
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA severally. GRE. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly? BAP. Faith, Gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part, And venture madly on a desperate mart. TRA. "Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: "Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas. BAP. The gain I seek is quiet in the match. GRE. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch. But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter. Now is the day we long have looked for: I am your neighbour, and was suitor first. TRA. And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess. GRE. Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I. TRA. Graybeard, thy love doth freeze.
Skipper,' stand back: 'tis age that nourisheth. TRA. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth. BAP. Content you, Gentlemen: I will compound this strife: 'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he, of both, That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love. And first to you: Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her? GRE. First, as you know, my house within the City Is richly furnished with plate and gold; Basins and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns; In cypress chests my arras-counterpoints,2 Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl, Valance of Venice gold in needlework; Pewter and brass, and all things that belong To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail, Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls; And all things answerable to this portion. Myself am struck in years, I must confess; And, if I die to-morrow, this is her's,
If whilst I live she will be only mine. TRA. That only came well in. Sir, list to me: I am my father's heir and only son: If I may have your daughter to my wife, I'll leave her houses three or four as good, Within rich Pisa's walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua ; Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure. What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio? GRE. Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
My land amounts not to so much in all : That she shall have; besides an argosy
That now is lying in Marseilles' road.
What, have I chok'd you with an argosy? TRA. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less Than three great argosies; besides two galliases' And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her, And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next. GRE. Nay; I have offer'd all, I have no more, And she can have no more than all I have: If you like me, she shall have me and mine. TRA. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied. BAP. I must confess your offer is the best; And, let your father make her the assurance, She is your own; else, you must pardon me,
If you should die before him, where's her dower? TRA. That's but a cavil: he is old, I young. GRE. And may not young men die, as well as old? BAP. Well, Gentlemen,
I am thus resolv'd: on Sunday next you know My daughter Katharine is to be married: Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
1 great three-masted galleys.
If not, to Signior Gremio:
I take my leave, and thank you both.
GRE. Adieu, good Neighbour.
Sirrah young Gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all, and in his waning age
Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy!
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my Boy. TRA. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide! Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.1 "Tis in my head to do my master good: I see no reason but suppos'd Lucentio Must get a father, call'd suppos'd Vincentio ; And that's a wonder: fathers commonly
Do get their children; but in this case of winning A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
SCENE I. Padua. BAPTISTA'S House.
Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.
Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir: Have you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal?
HOR. Out, wrangling Pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony! Then give me leave to have prerogative; And when in music we have spent an hour, Your lecture shall have leisure for as much. Luc. Preposterous Ass, that never read so far To know the cause why music was ordain'd! Was it not to refresh the mind of man After his studies or his usual pain? Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And, when I pause, serve in your harmony.
HOR. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine. BIAN. Why, Gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
1 i.e. ten pips against a picture.
To strive for that which resteth in my choice: I am no breeching scholar in the schools; I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself. And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down: Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done ere you have tun'd. HOR. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune? Luc. That will be never: tune your instrument. BIAN. Where left we last?
[reads.] Hâc ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis. BIAN. Construe them. 28 Luc. Hâc ibat, as I told you before-Simois, I am Lucentio hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa-Sigeia tellus, disguis'd thus to get your love; Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a-wooing-Priami, is my man Tranio-regia, bearing my port1-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
HOR. [coming forward.] Madam, my instrument's in
Hâc ibat Simois, I know you not-hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not; Hic steterat Priami, take heed he hear us not-regia, presume not-celsa senis, despair
HOR. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc. All but the bass. HOR. The bass is right; 'tis the base knave that jars. [aside.] How fiery and how forward is our pedant! Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love: Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
BIAN. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, Æacides Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
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