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Than three great Argofies, befides two galliasses
And twelve tight gallies; these I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.

Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all; I have no more; And she can have no more than all I have; If you like me, she shall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied. (world, Bap. I must confefs, your offer is the best; And let your father make her the assurance, She is your own, else you must pardon me: If you should die before him, where's her dower? Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young. Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old? Bap. Well, gentlemen, then I am thus refolv'd:

On Sunday next, you know,

My daughter Catharine is to be married:
Now on the Sunday following shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;

If not, to Signior Gremio:

And so I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. - Now ow I fear thee not:
Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all; and in his waining age
Set foot under thy table: tut! a toy!

An old Italian fox is not fo kind, my boy.

[Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide !

* Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten : 'Tis in my head to do my master good: I fee no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio

- May get a father, call'd, suppos'd Vincentio; And that's a wonder: fathers commonly

d! Do get their children; but, in this case of wooing, A child shall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning.

s

[Exit.

* Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten:] That is, with the highest Card, in the old simple Games of our Ancestors. So that this beçame a proverbial Expression.

Th

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The

[The Presenters, above, speak here.

Sly. Sim, when will the fool come again?

Sim. Anon, my Lord.

Sly. Give's fome more drink here-where's the tapster?

here, Sim, eat fome of these things.

Sim. So I do, my Lord.

Sly. Here, Sim, I drink to thee.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Baptifta's House.

Enter Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca.
LUCENTIO.

FIDLER, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir:

you so soon forgot entertainment

Her fifter Catharine welcom'd you withal?
Hor. Wrangling Pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony;
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in music we have fspent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leifure for as much.

Luc. Prepofterous ass! that never read fo far
To know the cause why music was ordain'd:
Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philofophy,
And, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these Braves of thine.
Bian. Why, Gentlemen, you do me double wrong,

To ftrive for That which resteth in my choice:
I am no brecching scholar in the schools;
I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times,
But learn my lessons as I please myself;
And to cut of all strife, here fit we down,

Take I.

Sir

Take you your instrument, play you the while;
His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd.

Hor. You'll leave his lecture, when I am in tune ?
[Hortenfio retires.

Luc. That will be never: tune your instrument.
Bian. Where left we laft?

Luc. Here, Madam: Hac ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia

tellus,

Hic steterat Priami regia celfa fenis.

Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic eft, fon unto Vincentio of Pifa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love, hic fteterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, celfa fenis, that we might beguile the old Pantaloon.

Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. [Returning. Bian. Let's hear. O fie, the treble jars. Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me fee, if I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not, hic eft Sigeia tellus, I trust you not, hic fteterat Priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, prefume not, celfa fenis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.

Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The base is right, 'tis the base knave that jars.

How fiery and how froward is our Pedant !
Now, for my life, that knave doth court my love;
Pedafcale, I'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Mistrust it not, -for, sure, Eacides

int Was Ajax, call'd fo from his grandfather.

Bian. I must believe my master, else I promise you,

I should be arguing still upon that doubt;
But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:
Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.

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Hor.

akt

Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave a while; My leffons make no music in three parts.

Luc. Are you fo formal, Sir? well, I must wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd, One fine mufician groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam before you touch the instrument, To learn the order of my fingering, I must begin with rudiments of art; To teach you Gamut in a briefer fort, More pleafant, 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 A re, to plead Hortenfio's paffion; [accord, B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,

C faut, that loves with all affection: D fol re, one cliff, but two notes have I. E la mi, show pity, or I die.

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

Enter a Servant.

Sarv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your

books,

And help to dress your sister's chamber up;

You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day.

Bian. Farewel, sweet masters, both; I must be gone.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Luc. Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.

Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant, Methinks, he looks as tho he were in love: Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To caft thy wandring eyes on every Stale;

Sieze

en

Sieze thee, who lift; if once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit.

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Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lucentio,

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Bianca, and attendants.

IGNIOR Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Cath'rine and Petruchio should be mar-

ried;

And yet we hear not of our fon-in-law.
What will be faid? what mockery will it be,
To want the Bridegroom, when the Priest attends

of To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

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Cath. No shame, but mine; I must, forsooth, be
forc'd

To give my hand oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain Rudesby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leifure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:

And to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage, Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banes ; Yet never means to wed, where he hath woo'd. Now must 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; What ever fortune stays him from his word. nt, Tho' he be blunt, I know him passing wife: Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

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Cath. Would Catharine had never feen him tho'!
[Exit weeping.

Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;

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