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In gaite and countenance furly like a father .
Tra. If he be credulous, and truft my tale,
Enter a Pedant.
Ped. God fave you, Sir.
Tra. And you, Sir; you are welcome:
Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid!
Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes
6-Surely like a father.] I know not what he is, fays the Speaker; however, this is certain,
he has the gait and countenance
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,
His name and credit fhall you undertake,
Ped. Oh, Sir, I do; and will repute you ever
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.
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
As who would say, If I should sleep or eat
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,
That feeds me with the very name of meat:
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
Cath. I pray you let it ftand.
Pet. The pooreft service is repaid with thanks,
Cath. I thank you, Sir.
Hor. Signior Petruchio, fy, you are to blame:
Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou loveft me;—
Much good do it unto thy gentle heart;
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.
Come, taylor, let us fee thefe ornaments.
Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir?
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.
Her. That will not be in haltë.
Cath. Why, Sir, I truft, I may have leave to speak.·
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true, it is a paltry cap.
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.