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We will have rings, and things, and fine array;
And kiss me, Kate, ' we'll marry o'sunday.

[Exit Petruchio, and Katharine feverally. Gre. Was ever match clap'd up so suddenly ?

Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part, And venture madly on a desperate mart.

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you ; 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Bap. The gain I seek isquiet in the match,

Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch,
But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter ;
Now is the day we long have looked for ;
I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.

Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love so dear as I.
Tra. Grey-beard ! thy love doth freeze,

Gre. But thine doth * fry.
Skipper, stand back; 'tis age, that nourisheth.

Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I will compound this

'Tis deeds, muft win the prize ; and he, of both,
That can assure my daughter greatest dower,
Shall have Bianca's love.
Say, signior Gremio, what can you assure her?

Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold ;
Basons, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands ;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry :
In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns ;
In cypress chests my arras, 'counterpoints,


we will be married,
counterpoints, ]-counterpanes.

* fry.]-hisses like green wood.


Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turky cushions " boss’d with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or house-keeping: then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore far oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am ftruck in years, I must confess ;
And, if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If, whilft I live, she will be only mine.

Tra. That, only, came well in-Sir, lift to me;
I am my father's heir, and only fon :
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old signior Gremio has in Padua ;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure. --
What, have I pinch'd you, signior Gremio ?

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year, of land !
My land amounts " but to so much in all:
That she shall have ; besides an argofy,
That now is lying in Marseilles' road -
What, have I choak'd you with an argoly?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less
Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight gallies: these I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'ft next.

Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more ;
And she can have no more than all I have ;-
If you like me, she shall have me and mine.

Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,

po bofs'd}--studded.



By your firm promise ; Gremio is out-vied.

Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best;
And, let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own; else, you must pardon me:

should die before him, where's her dower ?
Tra. That's but a cavil ; he is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old ?

Bap. Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolved :-On sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katharine is to be marry'd :
Now, on the sunday following, sall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;

not, to signior Gremio:
And so I take my leave, and thank you

both. [Exit, Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.–Now I fear thee not; Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and, in his waining age, Set foot under thy table: Tut! a toy ! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. [Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide !
Yet I have fac'd it with Pa card of ten.

head to do


master good :I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio Must

get a father, callid-suppos'd Vincentio; And that's a wonder : fathers, commonly, Do

get their children ; but, in this case of wooing, A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my "doing. (Exit.

'Tis in

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Baptista's Houfe.
Enter Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca.
Luc. Fidler, forbear ; you grow too forward, fir:
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her fifter Katharine welcom’d you withal ?

Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is
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 musick 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 refteth in my choice : I am 'no breeching scholar in the schools ; I'll not be ty'd to hours, nor 'pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself. And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down :Take you your instrument, play yoụ the whiles ; His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd.

Hor. You'll leave his lecture, when I am in tune?

[Hortenfio retiresi

Luc. That will be never ;-tune your instrument.

i nọ breeching Scholar]-not subject to correction,

Bian. Where left we last ?

Luc. Here, madam :
Hac ibat Simois ; hic est Sigeia tellus ;

Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Conftrue them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio,-bic eft, fon 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,-celsa 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 see if I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not ;-bic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not ;—Hic fteterat Priami, take heed he hear us not ; regia, presume not ;-celsa senis, despair not.

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

Hor. The base is right ; 'tis the base knave that jars.
How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love :
* Pedascule, I'll watch


Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.

Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, Æacides Was Ajax,—call’d so from his grandfather.

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

both. pantaloon.]-old cully in the Italian farces. Pedafcule,)--Pedagogue.


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