I care not what, fo it be wholesome food,
Gru. What fay you to a neat's foot?

Cath. 'Tis paffing good; I pr'ythee, let me have it. Gru. I fear it is too flegmatic 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 choleric: What fay, you to a piece of beef and mustard? Cath. A difh that I do love to feed upon. Gru. Ay, but the muftard is too hot a little. Cath. Why then the beef, and let the mustard rest. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the muOr else you get no beef of Grumio. [ftard,

Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why then the mustard without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding flavė, [Beats him That feed'ft 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.

Enter Petruchio and Hortenfio, with meat.

Pet. How fares my Kate? what, fweeting, all amort? Hor. Miftrefs, what cheer?

Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look chearfully upon me; Here, Love, thou feeft how diligent I am

To drefs thy meat myself, 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 all my pains is forted to no proof.

Here, take away the dish.

Cath. I pray you, let it ftand.

Pet The pooreft fervice is repaid with thanks, And fo fhall mine before you touch the meat. Cath. I thank you, Sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fie, you are to blame: Come, Miftrefs Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou loveft me ;

Much good do it unto thy gentle heart;

Kate, eat apace.

And now, my honey-love,

Will we return unto thy father's houfe,

And revel it as bravely as the bef,

[fide.

With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals, and things:
With fcarfs, and fans, and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, haft thou din'd? the tailor ftays thy leifure,
To deck thy body with his ruftling treasure.

SCENE VIII. Enter Tailor.
Come, Tailor, let us fee thefe ornaments.

Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown.

What news with you, Sir?

Hab. Here is the cap your Worship did befpeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer,
A velvet difh; fie, fie, 'tis lewd and filthy:

Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-fhell,

A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap..

Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time;

And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as thefe.

Pet. When you are gentle, you fhall have one too, And not till then.

Hor. That will not be in hafte.

Cath. Why, Sir, I truft I may have leave to fpeak,
And fpeak I will. I am no child, no babe;
Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind ;
And, if you cannot, beft you ftop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or elfe my heart, concealing it, will break :
And rather than it fhall, I will be free
Even to the utmost as I please in words.

Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true; it is a paltry cap
A cuftard-coffin, a bauble, a filken pie
I love thee well, in that thou lik'ft it not.

Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap
And I will have it, or I will have none.

Pet. Thy gown? why, ay; come, Tailor, let us fee't.
O mercy, Heav'n, what masking stuff is here?
What! this a fleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon;
What, up and down carv'd like an apple-tart?
Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flish, and flash,
Like to a cenfer in a barber's shop:

Why, what a devil's name, Tailor, call'ft thou this?
Hor. I fee fhe's like to 've neither cap nor gown.

Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion of the time.

[Afide.

Pet. Marry, and did: but if you be remembered, I did not bid you mar it to the time.

Go, hop me over every kennel home,

For you fhall hop without my cuftom, Sir:
I'll none of it; hence, make your best of it.
Cath. I never faw a better-fashion'd gown,

More quaint, more pleafing, nor more commendable :
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet. Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee.
Tai. She fays, your Worship means to make a pup-
Pet. O moft monftrous arrogance!
[pet of her.

Thou lyeft, thou thread, thou thimble,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thoa winter-cricket, thou!
Brav'd in mine own house with a fkein of thread:
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I fhall fo be-mete thee with thy yard,
As thou fhalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st.
I tell thee, I, that thou haft marr'd her gown.
Tai. Your Worflip is deceiv'd, the gown is made
Just as my mafter had direction.

Grumio gave order how it should be done.

Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
Tai. But how did you defire it fhould be made?
Gru. Marry, Sir, with needle and thread.
Tai. But did you not request to have it cut?
Gru. Thou haft fac'd many things.

Tai. I have.

Gru. Face not me: thou haft brav'd many men, brave not me; I will neither be fac'd, nor bray'd. I'

fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou lyeft.

66

Tai. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify. Pet. Read it.

Gru. The note lyes in's throat, if he fay I faid fo. Tai. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.

Gru. "Mafter, if ever I faid loofe-bodied gown, sow me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a "bottom of brown thread. I faid a gown.

Pet. Proceed.

Tai. With a finall compaft cape.

Gru. I confefs the cape.

Tai. With a trunk-sleeve.
Gru. I confefs two fleeves.

Tai. The fleeves curiously cut.
Pet. Ay, there's the villany.

Gru. Error i' th' bill, Sir, error i' th' bill: I commanded the fleeves fhould be cut out, and fow'd up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tai. This is true that I fay; an I had thee in place where, thou fhou'dft know it.

Gru. I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.

Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he fhall have no oods.

Pet. Well, Sir, in brief the gown is not for me. Gru. You are i' th' right, Sir, 'tis for my miftrefs. Pet. Go, take it up unto thy master's use.

Gru. Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress's gown for thy master's use !

Pet. Why, Sir, what's your conceit in that?

Gru. Oh, Sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for; Tak up my miftrefs's gown unto his master's ufe! fie, fie, fie!

Pet. Hortenfio, fay, thou wil: fee the tailor paid.

Go, take it hence; be gone, and fay no more.

[Afde.

Hor. Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow, Take no unkindnefs of his hafty words:

Away, I fay; commend me to thy mafter. [Exit Tailor.

Pet. Well, come, my Kate, we will unto your father's,

Even in these honeft mean habiliments :
Our purfes fhall be proud, our garments poor:
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the fun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

What, is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
Oh, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array;
If thou account'ft it shame, lay it on me;
And therefore frolic; we will hence forthwith,
To feaft and sport us at thy father's house.
Go call my men, and let us ftraight to him,
And bring our horfes unto Long-lane end,
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
Let's fee, I think, 'tis now fome feven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.

Cath. I dare affure you, Sir, 'tis almost two;
And 'twill be fupper-time ere you come there,
Pet. It fhall be feven, ere I go to horse.
Look, what I fpeak, or do, or think to do,
You are ftill croffing it; Sirs, let's alone,
I will not go to-day; and ere I do,

It shall be what o'clock I fay it is.

Hor. Why, fo; this gallant will command the fun.

[Exeunt Pet, Cath. and Hor.

[The prefenters, above, speak here.]

Lord. Who's within there?

Enter fervants.

[Sly fleeps.

Afleep again! go take him easily up, and put him in his own apparel again. But fee you wake him not in any cafe. Serv. It fhall be done, my Lord; come help to bear him bence. They bear off Sly.

SCENE IX. Before Baptifta's house. Enter Tranio, and the Pedant drefs'd like Vincentio. Tra. Sir, this is the houfe; please it you, that I call? Ped. Ay, what elfe! and (but I be deceived), Signior Baptifta may remember me