I pr'ythee, fifter Kate, untie my hands, Cath. If that be jeft, then all the rest was fo. Enter Baptifta.. [Strikes ber. Bap. Why, how now, dame, whence grows this Bianca, ftand afide; poor girl, fhe weeps; Cath. Her filence flouts me; and I'll be reveng'd. [Flies after Bianca. Bap. What, in my fight ?-Bianca, get thee in. [Exit Bianca. Cath. Will you not fuffer me? nay, now I fee, She is your treasure; she must have a husband ; I muft dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell: Talk not to me, I will go fit and weep, 'Till I can find occafion of revenge. [Exit Cath. Bap. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd, as I? But who comes here? SCENE II. Enter Gremio, Lucentio in the habit of a mean man; Petruchio with Hortenfio, like a musician; Tranio and Biondello bearing a lute and books. Gre. Good morrow, neighbour Baptifta. Bap. Good morrow, neighbour Gremio: God fave you, Gentlemen. 7 bilding-] The word bilding, or hinderling, is a low wretch; it is applied to Ca tharine for the coarfenefs of her behaviour. Pet. Pet. And you, good Sir; pray, have you not a daughter call'd Catharina, fair and virtuous? Bap. I have a daughter, Sir, call'd Catharina. 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, Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour, [Prefenting Hortenfio. I do prefent you with a man of mine, Bap. You're welcome, Sir, and he for your good fake. Or else you like not of my company. Bap. Miftake me not, I fpeak but what I find. Whence are you, Sir? what may I call your name? Pet. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's fon, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his fake. Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, let us, that are poor petitioners, fpeak too. Baccalare! you are marvellous forward. Baccare, you are marvellous forward.] We must riad, Baccalare; by which the Italians mean, thon arrogant, prefum tuous man! the word is ufed fcornfully, upon any one that would affume a port of grandeur. WARBURTON. D 2 Pet. Pet. Oh, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be doing. 9 Gre. I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am fure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, free leave give to this young scholar, that hath been long studying at Reims, Prefenting Lucentio.] as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in mufick and mathematicks; his name is Cambio; pray, accept his fervice. Bap. A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio. But, gentle Sir, methinks, you walk like a ftranger; [To Tranio] may I be fo bold to know the cause of your coming? Tra. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine own, That, being a stranger in this city here, Do make myself a fuitor to your daughter, Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous: Nor is your firm refolve unknown to me, That, upon knowledge of my parentage, And this fmall packet of Greek and Latin books. 9 I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe your wooing neighbours. This is a gift.] This nonfenfe may be rectified by only pointing [They greet privately. it thus, I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift, &c. addreffing himfelf to Baptifta. WARBURTON. Bap. ? Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray You fhall go fee your pupils presently. Enter a Servant. Sirrah, lead these gentlemen To my two daughters; and then tell them Both, [Exit. Serv. with Hortenfio and Lucentio. We will go walk a little in the orchard, And then to dinner. You are paffing welcome, Pet. Signior Baptifta, my bufinels afketh hafte, Bap. Ay, when the fpecial thing is well obtain'd, That is, her love; for that is all in all. Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as fhe proud-minded. And where two raging fires meet together, They do confume the thing that feeds their fury: D 3 Tho' Tho' little fire grows great with little wind, For I am rough, and wooe not like a babe. Bap. Well may'ft thou wooe, and happy be thy speed! But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words. Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, That shake not, tho' they blow perpetually. Enter Hortenfio with his head broke. Bap. How now, my friend, why doft thou look fo pale ? Hor. For fear, I promife you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mufician? Hor. I think, fhe'll fooner prove a foldier; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? Hor. Why, no; for fhe hath broke the lute to me. I did but tell her fhe miftook her frets, And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering, As on a pillory, looking through the lute: And twangling Jack, with twenty fuch vile terms, Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lufty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did; Bap. Well, go with me, and be not fo difcomfited, Signior |