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In gaite and countenance furly like a father .
Luc. And what of him, Tranio?

Tra. If he be credulous, and truft my tale,
I'll make him glad to feem Vincentio,
And give him affurance to Baptifta Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio :
Take in your love, and then let me alone.
[Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God fave you, Sir.

Tra. And you, Sir; you are welcome:
Travel you far on, or are you at the fartheft?
Ped. Sir, at the fartheft for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life.
Tra. What countryman, I pray?
Ped. Of Mantua.

Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid!
And come to Padua, careless of your life?


Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes
Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua, know you not the cause?
Your hips are ftaid at Venice, and the Duke
(For private quarrel 'twixt your Duke and him,)
Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
'Tis marvel, but that you're but newly come,
You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about.
Ped. Alas, Sir; it is worse for me than fo;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and muft here deliver them.
Tra. Well, Sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this will I advise you;
First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?

6-Surely like a father.] I know not what he is, fays the Speaker; however, this is certain,

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he has the gait and countenance
of a fatherly man.


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Ped. Ay, Sir, in Pisa have I often been ; Pifa renowned for grave citizens.

Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio? Ped. I know him not; but I have heard of him; A merchant of incomparable wealth.

Tra. He is my father, Sir; and, footh to fay, In count'nance fomewhat doth refemble you.

Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all



Tra. To fave your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for his fake;
And think it not the worst of all your fortunes,
That you are like to Sir Vincentio:

His name and credit fhall you undertake,
And in my house you shall be friendly lodg'd:
Look that you take upon you as you should.
You understand me, Sir: fo fhall you stay,
'Till you have done your bufinefs in the city.
If this be court'fy, Sir, accept of it.

Ped. Oh, Sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The Patron of my life and liberty.

Tra. Then go with me to make the matter good: This by the way I let you understand, My father is here look'd for every day, To pafs affurance of a dower in marriage 'Twixt me and one Baptifta's daughter here: In all these circumftances I'll instruct you: Go with me, Sir, to cloath you as becomes you.




Enter Catharina and Grumio.

Gru. No, no, forfooth, I dare not for my life.
Cath. The more my wrong, the more his fpite ap-


What, did he marry me to famish me?

F 4


Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon intreaty, have a prefent alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,
Nor never needed that I should intreat,
Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
And that, which spites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:.

As who would say, If I should sleep or eat
'Twere deadly fickness, or else present death:
I pry'thee go, and get me fome repaft;
I care not what, fo it be wholesome food.

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Gru. What fay you to a neat's foot?

Cath. 'Tis paffing good; I pry'thee, let me have it. Gru. I fear, it is too flegmatick a meat: How fay you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?

Cath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me. Gru. I cannot tell;-I fear, it's cholerick; What fay you to a piece of beef and mustard? Cath. A difh, that I do love to feed upon. Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little. Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard reft. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you fhall have the mustard,

Or elfe you get no beef of Grumio.

Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding flave,

[Beats him.

That feeds me with the very name of meat:
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you,
That triumph thus upon my mifery!
Go, get thee gone, I say.


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Enter Petruchio and Hortenfio, with meat.

Pet. How fares my Kate? what, Sweeting, all


Hor. Mitrefs, what cheer?

Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look cheerfully upon me j
Here, love, thou feeft how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat myfelf, and bring it thee:
I'm fure, fweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? nay then, thou lov'st it not :
And all my pains is forted to no proof'..
Here, take away the dish.

Cath. I pray you let it ftand.

Pet. The pooreft service is repaid with thanks,
And fo fhall mine, before you touch the meat.

Cath. I thank you, Sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fy, you are to blame:
Come, miftrefs Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou loveft me;—


Much good do it unto thy gentle heart;
Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey-love,
Will we return unto thy father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals, and things
With fcarfs, and fans, and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, haft thou din'd? the taylor ftays thy leifure,
To deck thy body with his ruftling treasure.

And all my pains is forted to no proof.] And all my labour has ended in nothing, or proved nothing. We tried an experiment, but it sorted not.

BACON. *-fardingals, and things:]

Though things is a poor word, yet I have no better, and per haps the author had not another that would rhyme. I once thought to tranfpofe the words rings and things, but it would make little improvement.



Enter Taylor.

Come, taylor, let us fee thefe ornaments.
Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir?
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did befpeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer,
A velvet dish; fy, fy, 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time; And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as these.


Pet. When you are gentle, you fhall have one too, And not 'till then.

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Her. That will not be in haltë.

Cath. Why, Sir, I truft, I may have leave to speak.·
And speak I will. I am no child, no babe;
Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind;
And, if you cannot, beft you stop your ears.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or, else my heart, concealing it, will break :
And rather than it fhall, I will be free
Even to the utmost as I please in words.

Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true, it is a paltry cap.
A cuftard-coffin, a bauble, a filken pie;
I love thee well, in that thou lik'st it not.


Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap; And I will have it, or I will have none. Pet. Thy gown? why, ay.--Come, taylor, let us fee't.

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