That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day. Bian. God give him joy! Tra. Ay, and he'll tame her. Bian. He says so, Tranio. Tra. 'Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school. Bian. The taming-school! what, is there such a place? Tra. Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master; That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,— To tame a shrew, and charm her chattering tongue. Enter Biondello, running. Bion. O master, master, I have watch'd so long That I'm dog-weary; but at last I spied An ancient angel* coming down the hill, Will serve the turn. Tra. What is he, Biondello ? Bion. Master, a mercatantè, or a pedant†, Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale, Take in your love, and then let me alone. [Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca. Enter a Pedant. Ped. God save you, sir! Tra. And you, sir! you are welcome. Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest ? Ped. Sir, at the furthest for a week or two : Of Mantua. Tra. Of Mantua, sir ?-marry, God forbid ! * Messenger. And come to Padua, Ped. My life, sir! hard. careless of your life? Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua This will I do, and this will I advise you ;— 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, sooth to say, In countenance somewhat doth resemble you. Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one. [Aside. Ped. To save your life in this extremity, And think it not the worst of all your fortunes, His name and credit shall you undertake, Ped. O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever 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 pass assurance of a dower in marriage "Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here: In all these circumstances I'll instruct you: Go with me, sir, to clothe you as becomes you. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A room in Petruchio's house. Enter Katharina and Grumio. Gru. No, no, forsooth; I dare not, for my life. appears: What, did he marry me to famish me? s; If not, elsewhere they meet with charity: Kath. 'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee let me have it. Kath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me. Gru. I cannot tell; I fear 'tis cholerick. What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard? Kath. A dish that I do love to feed upon. Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little. Kath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio. slave, Kath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef. Kath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding [Beats him. That feed'st me with the very name of meat: Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, That triumph thus upon my misery! Go, get thee gone, I say. Enter Petruchio with a dish of meat; and Hor tensio. Pet. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort* ? Hor. Mistress, what cheer? Kath. 'Faith, as cold as can be. Pet. Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me. Here, love; thou see'st how diligent I am, [Sets the dish on a table. Kath. 'Pray you, let it stand. Pet. The poorest service is repaid with thanks; And so shall mine, before you touch the meat. Kath. I thank you, sir. Hor. Signior Petruchio, fye! you are to blame ! Much good do it unto thy gentle heart! And revel it as bravely as the best, With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings, With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things; With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bra very*, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. What, hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure, To deck thy body with his ruffling + treasure. Enter Tailor. Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments; Enter Haberdasher. Lay forth the gown.-What news with you, sir? A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap; Kath. I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time, And gentlewomen wear such caps as these. Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too, And not till then. Hor. That will not be in haste. [Aside. Kath. Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak ; And speak I will; I am no child, no babe: * Finery. + Rustling. A coffin was the culinary term for raised crust. |