Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The bafe is right, 'tis the bafe knave that jars. How fiery and how froward is our Pedant!DO Now, for my life, that knave doth court my love; Pedafcule, I'll watch you better yet,

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I miftruft. Luc. Miftruft it not,-for, fure Eacides Was Ajax, call'd fo from his grandfather.

Bian. I muft believe my mafter, elfe I promife you, I fhould be arguing ftill upon that doubt; But let it reft. Now, Licio, to you: Good mafters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleafant with you both.

Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave awhile; My leffons make no mufick in three parts. Luc. Are you fo formal, Sir? well I muft wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceived, Our fine musician groweth amorous.

Afide.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the inftrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you Gamut in a briefer fort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.
Bian. Why, I am paft my Gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the Gamut of Hortenfio.

Bian. [reading] Gamut I am, the ground of all
accord,

Are, to plead Hortenfio's paffion;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,'
Cfaut, that loves with all affection ;

5. Pedafcule, he would
-]he
have faid Didafcale, but think-
ing this too honourable, he coins
the word Pedafcale in imitation
of it, from Pedant.

WARBURTON.
In time I may believe, yet 1
VOL. III.

1

mistrust.] This and the feven Verfes, that follow, have in all the Editions been ftupidly shuffled and mifplac'd to wrong Speakers; fo that every Word faid was glaringly out of Character. THEOBALD.

E

D fol

D folre, one cliff, but two notes have I.
E la mi, fhow pity, or I die.

Call you this Gamut? tut, I like it not;
Old fashions please me beft; I'm not so nice'
To change true rules for odd inventions.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Miftrefs, your father prays you

books,

leave your

And help to dress your fifter's chamber up;
You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day.
Bian. Farewel, fweet mafters, both; I must be gone.

[Exit. Luc. Faith, miftrefs, then I have no cause to stay.

[Exit.

Hor. But I have caufe to pry into this pedant, Methinks, he looks as tho' he was in love: Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be fo humble, To caft thy wandring eyes on every Stale; Seize thee, who lift; if once I find thee ranging, Hortenfio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Baptifta, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lucentio, Bianca, and attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Cathrine and Petruchio fhould be married;
And yet we hear not of our fon-in-law.
What will be faid? what mockery will it be,

? Old fashions please me beft; I'm not fo nice

To change true Rules for new Inventions.] This is Senfe and the Meaning of the Paffage ; but the Reading of the Second

Verfe, for all that, is fophifti-
cated. The genuine Copies all
concur in Reading,

To change true Rules for old
Inventions.

THEOBALD

To

To want the Bridegroom, when the Priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?
What fays Lucentio to this fhame of ours?

Cath. No fhame, but mine; I muft, forfooth, be forc'd

8

To give my hand oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain Rudefby, full of spleen 3;
Who woo'd in hafte, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:
And to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thoufand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed, where he hath woo'd.
Now muft the world point at poor Catharine,
And fay, lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.
Tra. Patience, good Catharine, and Baptista too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well;
Whatever fortune ftays him from his word.
Tho' he be blunt, I know him paffing wife:
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honeft.

Cath. Would Catharine had never seen him tho'!
[Exit. weeping.
Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
For fuch an injury would vex a Saint,

Much more a Shrew of thy impatient humour.

Bion. Mafter, Mafter; old news, and fuch news as

you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Full of Spleen.] That is, full of humour, caprice, and incon

fancy.

Bion, Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?

Bap. Is he come?

Bion. Why, no, Sir..

Bep. What then?

Bion. He is coming..

Bap. When will he be here?

Bion. When he ftands where I am, and fees you there.

Tra. But, fay, what to thine old news?

9

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cafes, one buckled, another lac'd: an old rufty fword ta'en out of the town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapelefs, with two broken points; his horfe hipp'd with an old mothy faddle, the ftirrups of no kindred; befides, poffelt with the glanders, and like to mofe in the chine, troubled with the lampaffe, if ected with the fashions, full of windgalls, fped with fpavins, raied with the yellows, paft cure of the fives, ftark spoiled with the ftaggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and fhoulder-fhotten, near-legg'd before, and with a halfcheck't bit, and a headftall of fheep's leather, which being reftrain'd, to keep him from ftumbling, hath been often burft, and now repair'd with knots; one girt fix times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and there piec'd with packthread. Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world capari

9 A pair of boots -one buckled, another laced; an old rusty fword ta'en out of the town-ar mory, with a broken bilt, and chapeless, with two broken points.] How a fword fhould have two broken points I cannot tell. There

is, I think, a tranfpofition caufed by the feeming relation of point to fword. I read, a pair of boots, one buckled, another laced with two broken points; an old rufty fword — with a broken hilt, and chapeless.

fon'd

fon'd like the horse, with a linnen ftock on one leg, and a kerfey boot-hofe, on the other, garter'd with a red and blue lift, an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies prickt up in't for a feather: a monfter, a 'very monfter in apparel, and not like a chriftian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey..

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to this

fashion;

Yet fometimes he goes but mean apparell'd.

Bap. I am glad he is come, howloever he comes. Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didit thou not fay, he comes?

Bion. Who? that Petruchio came not.

Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, Sir; I fay, his horfe comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one..

Bion. Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny,

A horfe and a man is more than one, and yet not

a

I

many.

An old hat, and the humour, of forty fancies prickt up in't for feather:] This was fome ballad or drollery of that time, which the Poet here ridicules, by making Petruchio prick it up in his foot-boy's old hat for a feather. His fpeakers are perpetually quoting fcraps and ftanzas of old Ballads, and often very obfcurely; for, fo well are they adapted to the occafion, that they feem of a piece with the reft. In Shakespear's time, the kingdom was over-run with thefe doggrel compofitions. And he feems to have born them a very particular grudge. He frequently ridicules both them and

their makers with exquifite humour. In Much ado about nothing, he makes Benedict fay, Prove that ever I lofe more blood with love than I get again with drinking, prick out my eyes with a ballad maker's pen. As the blunt

E 3

nefs of it would make the exe

cution of it extremely painful. And again in Troilus and Creffida, Pandarus in his diftrefs, having repeated a very ftupid flanza from an old ballad, fays, with the higheft humour, There never was a truer rhyme; let us caft away nothing, for we may live to have need of fuch a verse. We fee it, we fee it.

WARBURTON.

SCENE