Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching.

[They stand aside.

Enter BIANCA and LUCENTIO.

Luc. Now, mistress, profit you in what you read? Bian. What, master, read you? first resolve me that. Luc. I read that I profess, the art to love.

heart.

Bian. And may you prove, sir, master of your art! Luc. While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my [They retire. Hor. Quick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray, You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca Lov'd none in the world so well as Lucentio.

Tra. O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!

I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor. Mistake no more: I am not Licio,

Nor a musician, as I seem to be;

But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
And makes a god of such a cullion:
Know, sir, that I am call'd-Hortensio.

Tra. Signior Hortensio, I have often heard

Of your entire affection to Bianca;

And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
I will with you,-if you be so contented,-

Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.

Hor. See, how they kiss and court!-Signior Lucentio, Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow:

Never to woo her more; but do forswear her,
As one unworthy all the former favours

That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned oath,

Ne'er to marry with her, though she would entreat : Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him.

Hor. 'Would, all the world, but he, had quite forsworn! For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,

I will be married to a wealthy widow,

Ere three days pass; which hath as long lov'd me,
As I have lov'd this proud disdainful haggard:
And so, farewell, signior Lucentio.-

Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
Shall win my love:-and so I take my leave,
In resolution as I swore before.

[Exit HoR.

LUCENTIO and BIANCA advance.
Tra. Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!

Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love;
And have forsworn you, with Hortensio.

Bian. Tranio, you jest; but have you both forsworn me?
Tra. Mistress, we have.

Luc. Then we are rid of Licio.

Tra. I'faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,

That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.

Bian. God give him joy!

Tra. Ay, and he'll tame her.

Bian. He says so, Tranio.

Tra. 'Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.

Bian. The taming-school! what, is there such a place? Tra. Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master; That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,To tame a shrew, and charm her chattering tongue. Enter BIONDELLO, running.

Bion. O, master, master, I have watch'd so long, That I'm dog-weary; but at last I spied

An ancient angel going down the hill, 8

Will serve the turn.

Tra. What is he, Biondello?

Bion. Master, a mercatantè, or a pedant, 9
I know not what ; but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
Luc. And what of him, Tranio ?

Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale,
I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio;
And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio.

Take in your love, and then let me alone.

[Exe. Luc. and BIAN.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God save you, sir!

Tra. And you, sir! you are welcome.

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

Ped. Of Mantua.

[8] Angel primitively signifies a messenger, but perhaps this sense is inapplicable to the passage before us. Chapman, in his translation of Homer, always calls a messenger an angel. STEEV.

[9] The Italian word mercatante, is frequently used in the old plays for a merchant. A pedant was the the common name for a teacher of languages.

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

Ped. My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.
Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua

To come to Padua; Know you not the cause?
Your ships are staid 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 else proclaim'd about.
Ped. Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and must 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?
Ped. Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been ;
Pisa, 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, sooth to say,

In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.

Bion. [Aside.] As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.

Tra. To save your life in this extremity,

This favour will I do you for his sake;

And think it not the worst of all your fortunes,
That you are like to sir Vincentio.

His name and credit shall 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 ;-so shall you stay
Till you have done your business in the city:
If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.

Ped. O, 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 pass assurance of a dower in marriage
'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these circumstances I'll instruct you :

Go with me, sir, to clothe you as becomes you. [Exe.

SCENE III.

A Room in PETRUCHIO's House. Enter KATHARINA and

GRUMIO.

Gru. No, no, forsooth; I dare not, for my life.
Kath. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?

Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty, have a present alms;

If not, elsewhere they meet with charity :
But I,-who never knew how to entreat,-

Am starv'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 should say,-if I should sleep, or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death.-
I pr'ythee go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
Gru. What say you to a neat's foot?

Kath. 'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee let me have it.
Gru. I fear, it is too choleric a meat:-

How say you to a fat tripe, finely broil'd?

Kath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
Gru. I cannot tell; I fear, 'tis choleric.

What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard?
Kath. A dish that I do love to feed upon.

Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

Kath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Kath. Then, both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef. Kath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, [Beats him. That feed'st me with the very name of meat : Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, That triumph thus upon my misery!

Go, get thee gone, I say.

Enter PETRUCHIO with a dish of meat; and HORTENSIO. Pet. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort? Hor. Mistress, what cheer?

Kath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.

Here, love; thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee:

[Sets the dish on a table.
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov'st it not;
And all my pains is sorted to no proof:-
Here, take away this dish.

Kath. 'Pray you, let it stand.

Pet. The poorest service is repaid with thanks ; And so shall mine, before you touch the meat. Kath. I thank you, sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame! -Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov'st me. [Aside. -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 silken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things;
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.
What,hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.

Enter Tailor.

-Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments.*
Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown.-What news with you, sir?
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish ;-fie, fie; '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.

Kath. I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time,

And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too,

And not till then.

Hor. That will not be in haste.

[Aside.

Kath. Why, sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak;

And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endur'd me say my mind;

[1] In our poet's time, women's gowns were usually made by men. MAL.