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 engle coming down the hill,
Will serve the turn.

Tra.

What is he, Biondello?

Bion. Master, a mercatantè', or a pedant,
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 loves, and then let me alone.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God save you, sir!
Tra.

And you, sir: you are welcome.

6 An ancient ENGLE coming down the hill,] The old folios read angel; but the proper mode of spelling the word seems to be engle or ingle. It means a person of weak understanding, who may be easily gulled. The etymology is doubtful; but Steevens derives it from the French engluer, i. e. to lime, or catch with bird-lime. Gifford (Ben Jonson's Works, ii. 429) shows decisively, by reference to Gascoigne's "Supposes," (which resembles this part of Shakespeare's plot,) that engle is the true reading. Theobald was the first to substitute "engle" for angel.

7 Master, a mercatantè,] Marcantant in the old folio: "mercatantè" is Italian for a merchant: Biondello did not know whether he was a merchant or a pedant. "Mercatantè" is the amendment of Steevens.

Take IN your love,] The old folios have me for "in; " which may possibly be right, supposing Tranio to mean, "Take me your love away." Petruchio, A. i. sc. 2, says, “Knock me at this gate."

Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
Ped. Sir, at the farthest for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome,

And so to Tripoly, if God lend me life.
Tra. What countryman, I pray?

Ped.

Of Mantua.

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 stay'd 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 are 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 I will 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.

9 and this I WILL advise you.] Malone reads will I for "I will."

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, to clothe you as becomes you.

SCENE III.

A Room in PETRUCHIO'S House.

Enter KATHARINA and GRUMIO.

[Exeunt.

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,
Nor never needed that I should entreat 10
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,

10 Nor never needed that I should entreat,] This line is omitted in Malone's Shakespeare by Boswell; but is correctly given in Mr. Knight's "Pictorial Shakspere," and in other modern editions.

'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 amort1? 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.

1 What, sweeting, all AMORT?] "Amort" was a word of frequent occurrence in plays of Shakespeare's time, though he does not very often use it. It is met with again in Henry VI. pt. 1, A. iii. sc. 2, and it is derived from the French, and means dead, flat, or dispirited.

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.

I 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. [Aside.] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov'st

[To her.] 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 knavery3.
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 bespeak1.

2

is sorted to no PROOF.] i. e. approof, or approbation. See p. 216.

3 With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.] These four lines read as if they were recited by Petruchio from some old ballad or poem. Johnson objected to "things," as a "poor word" to rhyme with "rings ;" but perhaps hypercritically. It occurs exactly in the same way in a MS. poem, preserved at Dulwich College among Alleyn's papers :

"Oh! but he gives her gay gold rings,

And tufted gloves for holiday,

And many other goodly things,

That have stolen my love away.

Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.] This line has the prefix of Fel. in the folios; possibly the beginning of the actor's name, or more likely the first letters of Fellow, a word commonly applied to players.

VOL. III.

N