Bian. What, mafter, read you? first, resolve me that.

Luc. I read That I profefs the art of Love.
Bian. And may you prove, Sir, mafter of your art!
Luc. While you, fweet dear, prove mistress of my
[They retire backward.

heart.

Hor. Quick proceeders! marry! now, tell me, I pray, you that durft fwear that your miftrefs Bianca lov'd none in the world fo well as Lucentio.

Tra. Defpightful love, unconftant womankind! I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor. Mistake no more, I am not Licio,
Nor a musician, as I feem to be;

But One that fcorns to live in this disguise,
For fuch a One as leaves a gentleman,
And makes a God of fuch a cullion;
Know, Sir, that I am call'd Hortenfio.

Tra. Signior Hortenfio, I have often heard.
Of your entire affection to Bianca;

And fince mine eyes are witnefs of her lightnefs,
I will with you, if you be fo contented,
Forfwear Bianca and her love for ever.

Hor. See, how they kifs and court!

Lucentio,

Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
Never to woo her more,; but to forfwear her,
As one unworthy all the former favours,
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

Signior

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned oath, Never to marry her, tho' fhe intreat.

Fy on her fee, how beaftly 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,
As I have lov'd this proud difdainful haggard.
And fo farewel, Signor Lucentio.

Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
Shall win my love: and fo I take my leave,
In refolution as I fwere before.

[Exit. Hor.

grace,

Tra. Mistress Bianca, blefs you with fuch
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 forfworn me?

Tra. Miftrefs, we have.

Luc. 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 school. 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.

SCENE V.

Enter Biondello, running.

Bion. Oh master, master, I have watch'd fo long, That I'm dog-weary; but at last I spied

An ancient angel going down the hill,

Will ferve the turn.

Tra. What is he, Biondello?

Bion. Mafter, a mercantant, or elfe a pedant; I know not what; but formal in apparel;

5 An ancient Angel.] For angel Mr. Theobald, and after him

Sir T. Hanmer, and Dr. Warbur ton read Engle.

F

3

In

In gaite and countenance furly like a father.
Luc. And what of him, Tranio?

Tra. If he be credulous, and truft my tale,
I'll make him glad to feem Vincentio,
And give him affurance to Baptifta Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio :

Take in your love, and then let me alone.

[Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God fave you, Sir.

Tra. And you, Sir; you are welcome:
Travel you far on, or are you at the fartheft?
Ped. Sir, at the fartheft for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life.
Tra. What countryman, I pray?

Pcd. Of Mantua.

goes

hard.

Tra. Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid!
And come to Padua, carelefs of your life?
Ped. My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that
Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua; know you not the cause?
Your hips are ftaid 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're but newly come,
You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about.
Ped. Alas, Sir; it is worfe for me than fo;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and muft here deliver them.
Tra. Well, Sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this will I advife you;
Firft, tell me, have you ever been at Pifa?

6-Surely like a father.] I know not what he is, fays the fpeaker; however, this is certain,

he has the gait and countenance of a fatherly man.

WARBURTON.

Ped.

Ped. Ay, Sir, in Pifa have I often been;

Pifa 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, footh to say,

In count'nance fomewhat doth refemble you.

Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyiter, and all

one.

Tra. To fave your life in this extremity,

This favour will I do you for his fake;
And think it not the worst of all your fortunes,
That you are like to Sir Vincentio:

His name and credit fhall you undertake,
And in my houfe you fhall be friendly lodg'd:
Look that you take upon you as you fhould.
You understand me, Sir: fo fhall
you stay,
'Till you have done your bufinefs in the city.
If this be court'fy, 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: This by the way I let you understand, My father is here look'd for every day, To pafs affurance of a dower in marriage ''Twixt me and one Baptifta's daughter here: In all these circumftances I'll inftruct you: Go with me, Sir, to cloath you as becomes you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Enter Catharina and Grumio.

Gru. No, no, forfooth, I dare not for my life.
Cath. The more my wrong, the more his fpite ap-

pears:

What, did he marry me to famish me?

Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon intreaty, have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,
Nor never needed that I should intreat,

Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of fleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
And that, which fpites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:

As who would fay, If I fhould fleep or eat
'Twere deadly fickness, or elfe prefent death:
I pry'thee go, and get me fome repaft;
I care not what, fo it be wholesome food.
Gru. What fay you to a neat's foot?

Cath. 'Tis paffing good; I pry'thee, 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 fay 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 fhall have the mustard,

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou falfe deluding flave, [Beats him. That feeds me with the very name of meat: Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, That triumph thus upon my mifery! Go, get thee gone, I fay.

SCENE