Gru. Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her. [Aside. Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent? Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds, Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field, And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? That gives not half so great a blow to the ear, Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. Gre. Hortensio, hark! This gentleman is happily arriv'd, 8 For he fears none. [Aside. My mind presumes, for his own good, and yours. Enter TRANIO, bravely apparell'd; and BIONDELLO. Tra. Gentlemen, save you! If I may be bold, Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest To the house of signior Baptista Minola? way Gre. He that has the two fair daughters: - is't [Aside to TRANIO.] he you mean? Tra. Even he. Biondello! Gre. Hark you, sir; You mean not her to Tra. Perhaps, him and her, sir; What have you to do? 8 Fright boys with bugbears. Pet. Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray. Tra. I love no chiders, sir:- Biondello, let's away. Luc. Well begun, Tranio. Hor. Sir, a word ere you go ; [Aside. Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea, or no? Tra. An if I be, sir, is it any offence? Gre. No; if, without more words, you will get you hence. Tra. Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free For me, as for you? Gre. But so is not she. Tra. For what reason, I beseech you? Gre. For this reason, if you'll know, That she's the choice love of signior Gremio. Hor. That she's the chosen of signior Hortensio. Tra. Softly, my masters! if you be gentlemen, Do me this right, — hear me with patience. Baptista is a noble gentleman, To whom my father is not all unknown; Pet. Hortensio, to what end are all these words? Pet. Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by. Gre. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules; And let it be more than Alcides' twelve. Pet. Sir, understand you this of me, insooth; The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for, whose hap shall be to have her, Hor. Sir, you say well, and well you do con ceive; And since you do profess to be a suitor, Tra. Sir, I shall not be slack: in sign whereof, Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. be gone. Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it so ; -Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto. [Exeunt. 9 Companions ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. A Room in Baptista's House. Enter KATHARINA and BIANCA. Bian. Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself, To make a bondmaid and a slave of me; Kath. Of all thy suitors, here I charge thee, tell Which I could fancy more than 2 any other. Kath. Minion, thou liest; Is't not Hortensio ? Bian. If you affect him, sister, here I swear, I'll plead for you myself, but you shall have him. Kath. O then, belike, you fancy riches more; You will have Gremio to keep you fair. Bian. Is it for him you do envy me so? Kath. If that be jest, then all the rest was so. Enter BAPTISTA. Bap. Why, how now, dame! whence grows this insolence? 1 Trifling ornaments. 2 Love. Bianca, stand aside; - poor girl! she weeps: When did she cross thee with a bitter word? Kath. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd. [Flies after BIANCA. Bap. What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in. [Exit BIANCA. Kath. Will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see, She is your treasure, she must have a husband; I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell. Talk not to me; I will sit and weep, Till I can find occasion of revenge. go [Exit KATHARINA. Bap. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I? But who comes here? Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man; PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a Musician; and TRANIO, with BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books. Gre. Good-morrow, neighbour Baptista. Bap. Good-morrow, neighbour Gremio: save you, gentlemen! Pet. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter Call'd Katharina, fair, and virtuous? Bap. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katharina. Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly. Pet. You wrong me, signior Gremio; give me leave. I am a gentleman of Verona, sir, That, hearing of her beauty, and her wit, 3 A worthless woman. |