•

For curious I cannot be with you,

Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well.

Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say: Your plainnefs and your fhortnefs please me well, Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him, Or both diffemble deeply their affections; And therefore if you fay no more than this, That like a father you will deal with him, And pass my daughter a fufficient dowry, The match is made, and all is done, Your fon fhall have my daughter with confent. Tra. I thank you, Sir. *Where then do you beft,

know

Be we affied; and fuch affurance ta'en,
As fhall with either part's agreement stand.

Eap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know,
Pirchers have cars, and I have many fervants;
Befides, old Gremio is hearkning ftill;
And, haply, then we might be interrupted.

Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, Sir,
There doth my Father lie; and there this night
We'll pass the bufinefs privately and well:
Send for your daughter by your fervant here,
My boy fhall fetch the fcrivener presently.
The worst is this, that at fo flender warning.
You're like to have a thin and flender pittance,

Bap. It likes me well. Go, Cambio, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready straight:

And if you will, tell what hath happen'd here;
Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua,

And how fhe's like to be Lucentio's wife.

Luc. I pray the Gods fhe may, with all my heart!
[Exit.
Where then you do know beft,
Be we affied;

Or thus, which I think is right,
Where then do you trow beft,
We be affied;

Tra.

*-Where then do you know beft,

Be we affied; -] This feems to be wrong. We may read more commodioufly,

20

Tra. Dally not, with the Gods, but
Signior Baptifta, fhall I lead the way?
Welcome! one mefs is like to be your cheer.
Come, Sir, we will better it in Pifa.
Bap. I'll follow you.

get thee gone.

1

1

SCENE

XI.

Enter Lucentio, and Biondello.

[Exeunt.

Bion. Cambio.

Luc. What fay'ft thou, Biondello ?

Bion. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon

you.

Luc. Biondello, what of that?

Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but he's left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his figns and tokens.

Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.

Bion. Then thus. Baptifta is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful fon.

Luc. And what of him?

Bion. His Daughter is to be brought by you to the fupper.

Luc. And then?

Bion. The old Prieft at St. Luke's Church is at your command at all hours.

Luc. And what of all this?

Bion. I cannot tell; expect, they are bufied about a counterfeit affurance; take you affurance of her, Cum privilegio ad imprimendum folùm; to th' Church take the Prieft, Clark, and fome fufficient honeft witneffes: If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewel for ever and a day.

Luc. Hear'ft thou, Biondello?

Bion. I cannot tarry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parfly to stuff VOL. III.

garde

G

a rabbet; and fo may you, Sir, and fo adieu, Sir; my master hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the Prieft be ready to come againft you come with your Appendix, [Exit.

Luc. I may and will, if fhe be fo contented: She will be pleas'd, then wherefore fhould I doubt ? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: It fhall go hard, if Cambio go without her. [Exit.

SCENE

A green Lane.

Enter Petruchio, Catharine, and Hortenfio.

C

Ome on, o'God's name, once more tow❜rds our Father's.

Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the Moon! Cath. The Moon! the Sun: it is not Moon-light

XII.

Pet.

now.

Pet. I fay, it is the Moon that fhines fo bright. Cath. I know, it is the Sun that thines fo bright. Pet. Now by my mother's fon, and that's myself, It fhall be Moon, or Star, or what I lift, Or ere I journey to your father's houfe: Go on, and fetch our horfes back again. Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft!

Hor. Say, as he fays, or we fhall never go. Cath, Forward I pray, fince we are come fo far, And be it Moon, or Sun, or what you please : And if you please to call it a rush candle, Henceforth I vow it fhall be fo for me.

Pet. I fay, it is the Moon.

Cath. I know, it is the Moon.

Pet. Nay, then you lye; it is the bleffed Sun. Cath. Then, God be bleft, it is the bleffed Sun. But Sun it is not, when you fay it is not; And the Moon changes, even as your mind.

What

What you will have it named, even that it is,
And fo it fhall be fo for Catharine.

Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won.
Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl should

run;

And not unluckily againft the bias:
But foft, some company is coming here.

Enter Vincentio.

Good morrow, gentle mistress, where away?

[To Vincentio.

2

Tell me, fweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Haft thou beheld a fresher Gentlewoman ?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What ftars do fpangle heaven with fuch beauty,
As those two eyes become that heav'nly face?
Fair lovely Maid, once more good day to thee:
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's fake.

2

In the firft fketch of this of the hand of Shakespear, tho' play, printed in 1607, we find the rest of that play is far infetwo speeches in this place worth rior. preferving, and feeming to be

POPE.

Fair lovely maiden, young and affable,
More clear of hue, and far more beautiful
Than precious fardonyx, or purple rocks
Of amethifts, or gliftering hyacinth-

-Sweet Catharine, this lovely woman
Cath. Fair lovely lady, bright and chrystalline,
Beauteous and stately as the eye-train'd bird;
As glorious as the morning wafh'd with dew,
Within whofe eyes she takes her dawning beams,
And golden fummer fleeps upon thy cheeks.
Wrap up thy radiations in fome cloud,
Left that thy beauty make this ftately town
Uninhabitable as the burning zone,
With sweet reflections of thy lovely face.

G 2

Hor.

Hor. He will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.

Cath. Young budding Virgin, fair, and fresh, and
fweet,

Whither away, or where is thy aboad?
Happy the Parents of fo fair a child;
Happier the man, whom favourable stars
Allot thee for his lovely bedfellow!

Pet. Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not
mad!

This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden, as, thou fay'ft he is.

Cath. Pardon, old Father, my mistaken eyes;
That have been fo bedazled with the fun,
That every thing I look on feemeth green.
Now I perceive, thou art a reverend Father:
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

Pet. Do, good old Grandfire, and withal make
known

Which way thou travelleft: if along with us,
We fhall be joyful of thy company.

Vin. Fair Sir, and you my merry Mistress,
That with your ftrange encounter much amaz'd me;
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pifa;
And bound I am to Padua, there to vifit

A fon of mine, which long I have not feen.
Pet. What is his name?

Vin. Lucentio, gentle Sir.

Pet. Happily met, the happier for thy fon;
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee my loving Father:
The Sifter of my wife, this Gentlewoman,
Thy Son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be not griev'd, fhe is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Befide, fo qualified, as may befeem
The Spouse of any noble Gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio,

And