Tra. O defpightful love, unconftant womankind! I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful. Hor. Miftake no more, I am not Licio, But one that fcorn to live in this difguife, Tra. Signior Hortenfio, I have often heard And fince mine eyes are witness of her lightness, Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow, Signior Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned oath, Never to marry her, tho' fhe intreat. Fie on her! fee, how beastly fhe doth court him. Hor. Would all the world, but he, had quite forfworn her! For me, that I may furely keep mine oath, I will be married to a wealthy widow, Ere three days pafs, which has as long lov'd me, Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, [Exit. Hor. Tra. Mistress Bianca, blefs you with fuch grace, As longeth to a lover's bleffed cafe: Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle Love, And have forfworn you with Hortenfio. [Lucentio and Bianca come forward. Bian. Tranio, you jeft: but have you both for fworn me? Tra. Mistress, we have. Lac. Lut. Then we are rid of Licio. Tra. I'faith, he'll have a lufty widow now, That fhall be woo'd and wedded in a day. Bian. God give him joy! Tra. Ay, and he'll tame her. Bian. He fays fo, Tranio. Tra. 'Faith, he's gone unto the taming fchool, Bian. The taming fchool? what, is there fuch a place? Tra. Ay, miftrefs, and Petruchio is the mafter That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long, To tame a Shrew, and charm her chattering tongue. Enter Biondello, running. Bion. Oh mafter, mafter, I have watch'd so long, That I'm dog-weary; but at laft I spied (20) An ancient Engle, going down the hill, Will ferve the turn. Tra. What is he, Biondello? Bion. Mafter, a mercantant, or elle a pedant; An ancient Angel going down the Hill, Will ferve the turn.] Tho' all the printed Copies agree in this Reading, I am confident, that hakespeare intended no Profanation here; nor indeed any Compli ment to this old Man who was to be impos'd upon, and made a Property of. The Word I have reftor'd, certainly retrieves the Author's Meaning and means, either in its firft Signification, a Burdafh; (for the Word is of Spanish Extraction, Ingle, which is equivalent to inquen of the Latines;) or, in its metaphorical Senfe, a Gull, a Cully, one fit to be made a Tool of. And in both Senfes it is frequently us'd by B. Jonfon. Cynthia's Revels. and fweat for every venial Trespass we commit, as fome Author qwould, if he had fuch fine Engles as we. The Cafe is alter'd; (a Comedy not printed among B. Jonson's Works) What, Signior Antonio Balladino! welcome, fweet Engle. Poetafter. What, fhall I have my Son a Stager now? an Engle for Players? And he likewife ufes it, as a Verb, in the fame Play, fignifying to beguile, defraud. I'll prefently go, and engle fome Broker for a Poet's Gown, and bespeak a Garland. I I know not what; but formal in apparel; (21) Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale, Enter a Pedant. Ped. God fave you, Sir. [Ex. Luc. and Bian, Tra. And you, Sir; you are welcome : Ped. Of Mantua. Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid! And come to Padua, careless of your Life? Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard. To come to Padua; know you not the caufe? This will I do, and this will I advise you; (21) but formal in Apparel; In Gate and Countenance furely like a Father.] I have made bold to read, furly; and furely, I believe, I am right in doing fo. Our Port always represents his Pedants, imperious and ma gifterial. Befides, Tranio's Directions to the Pedant for his Behaviour vouch for my Emendation. 'Tis well; and hold your own in any Cafe, First, tell me, have you ever been at Pifa? Tra. Among them know you one Vincentio? Tra. He is my father, Sir; and, footh to say, Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one. Tra. To fave your life in this extremity, This favour will I do you for his fake; His name and credit fhall you undertake, you have done your business in the city. If this be court'fie, Sir, accept of it. Ped. Oh, Sir, I do, and will repute you ever The Patron of my life and liberty. [Afide. Tra. Then go with me to make the matter good; Enter Catharina and Grumio. [Exeunt Gru. No, no, forfooth, I dare not for my life. pears: What, did he marry me to famish me? Beggars, that come unto my father's door, If not, elsewhere they meet with charity: Nor Nor never needed that I fhould intreat, As who would fay, if I fhould fleep or eat Cath. 'Tis paffing good; I pr'ythee, let me have it. Gru. I fear, it is too flegmatick a meat: How fay you to a fat tripe finely broil'd? Cath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me. Gru. I cannot tell; I fear, it's cholerick: What say you to a piece of beef and mustard? Cath. A difh, that I do love to feed upon. Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little. Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the muftard reft. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mufstard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio. Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. [beats bim. Go, get thee gone, Ì fay. Enter Petruchio and Hortenfio, with meat. Pet. How fares my Kate? what Sweeting, all amort? Hor. Miftrefs, what cheer? Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be. Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look cheerfully upon me; Here, love, thou feeft how diligent I am, To dress thy meat my felf, and bring it thee: I'm fure, fweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks. What, not a word? nay then, thou lov'ft it not: And |