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Enter Lucentio, Hortenfio, and Bianca.

LUCENT 10.
Idler, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir :
Have

you fo foon forgot the entertainment. Her fifter Catharine welcom'd

you

withal ?
Hor. [Sheisa Shrew, but,] Wrangling Pedant, this is (13)
The patroness of heavenly harmony ;
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in musick 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 mufick 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, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.

Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, To strive for that which resteth in my choice :

(13) -Wrangling Pedant, this

Tbe Patroness of beavenly Harmony.] There can be no Reason, why Hortensio hould begin with an Hemistich; the Words, which I have added to fill the Verse, being purely by Conjecture, and supply'd by the Sense that seems required, without any Traces of a corrupted Reading left, to authorize or found them upon; I have for that Reason inclosed them within Crotchets, to be embraced or rejected, at every Reader's pleasure.

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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 ftrife, here fit we down,
'Take you your instrument, play you the while ;
His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd.
Hor. You'll leave his lecture, when I am in tune ?

[Hortenfio retires. Luc. That will be never : tune your inftrument. Bian. Where left we last?

Luc. Here, Madam: Hac ibat Simois, bic eft Sigeia tellus, Hic fleterat Priami regia cella senis.

Bian. Conftrue them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic eft, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love, hic fteterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, celfa senis, that we might beguile the old Pantaloon.

Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. [Returning
Bian. Let's hear. O fie, the treble jars.
Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.

Bian. Now let me fee, if I can construe it; Hac ibat Simois, I know you not, hic eft Sigeia tellus, I trust you not, hic fteterat Priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, presume not, celsa fenis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in cune.
Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The base is right, 'tis the base knave that jars.
How fiery and how froward is our Pedant !
Now, for my life, that knave doth court my love ;
Pedascule, l'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I miltrust. (14)

Luc. Miftruft it not, -for, sure, Æacides Was Ajax, callid fo from his grandfather.

(14) In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.] [This and the Seven Verses, that follow, have in all the Editions been stupidly shuffled and misplaced to wrong Speakers ; so that every Word said was giaringly out of Character,

Bian. I must believe my master, elfe I promise you, I fould be arguing still upon that doubt; But let it reft. Now, Licio, to you: Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleasant with you

both. Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave a while ; My lessons make no mufick in three parts.

Luc. Are you so formal, Sir ? well, I must wait,
And watch withal; for but I be deceived,
Our fine musician groweth anorous.

Hor. Macam, before you touch the instruincat,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I muit begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you Gamut in a briefer fort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been caught by any of my trade;
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am pait my Gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the Gamut of Hortenso.
Biar. (reading.) Gamut I am, the ground of all accord,

Are, to plead Hortensia's pallion ;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,

Cfaut, that loves with all affection;
D folre, one cliff, but two notes have I.
E la mi, show pity, or I die.
Call
you

this Gamut? (ut, I like it not;
Old fashions please me beft ; I'm not so nice (15)
.To change true rules for odd inventions,

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,

And (15) Old fashions please me beff : I'm not so nice

To change true Rules for new Inventions.] This is Sense and the Meaning of the Passage; but the Reading of the Second Verse, for all that, is sophisticated. The genuine Copies all concur in Reading, To change true Rules for old Inventions. R 3

This

And help to dress your fifter's chamber up;
You know, to-morrow is the wedding day.
Bian. Farewel, sweet masters, both ; I must be gone.

[Exit. Luc. Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay,

[Exit.
Hər. But I have cause to pry into this pedant,
Methinks, he looks as tho' he were in love :
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble,
To cast thy wandring eyes on every stale ;
Seize thee, who lift ; if once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing [Exit.
Enter Baptifta, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lu-

centio, Bianca, and attendants.
Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the pointed day
That Cathrine and Petruchio should be married ;
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
What will be said ? what mockery will it be,
To want the Bridegoom, when the Priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage ?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

Cath. No fhame, but mine; I muft, forsooth, be forc'd
To give my hand oppos’d against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain Rudesby, full of spleen ;
Who woo'd in hafte, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his bitter jeits in blunt behaviour :
And to be noted for a merry man,
He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns ;
Yet never ineans to wed, where he hath wood,
Now muft the world point at poor Catharine,
And say, lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,

This, indeed, is contrary to the very Thing it should express : But the easy Alteration, which I have made, restores the Sense, and adds a Contrast in the Terms perfectly juít. True Rules are opposod to ed./ Inventions ; i, e. Wbrirfies.

If

If it would please him come and marry her.

Tra. Patience, good Catharine, and Baprifa too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well;
What ever fortune stays him from his word.
Tho' he be blunt, I know him paffing wise :
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
Cath. Would Catharine, had never seen him tho'!

[Exit weeping
Bap. Go, girl ; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
For such an injury would vex a Saint,
Much more a Shrew of thy impatieni humour.

Enter Biondello.

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Bion. Mafter, Maftei ; old news, and such news 13 you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old tooi haw may shat be?

Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petrecho's comingi

Bap. Is he come i
Bion. Why, no, Sir,
Bap. What then
Bion. He is coming.
Bap. When will he be here?
Bion. When he stands where I am, and 'es you there.
Tra. But, say, what to thine old new!

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac’d; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points; his horse hipp'd with an old mothy saddle, the firrups of no kindred; besides, poffeft with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine, troubled wich the lampasse, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the Itaggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and shoulderfhotten, near-legg'd before, and with a half-check’t bit, and a headttall of sheep's leather, which being restrain'd,

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