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 ; Pedafcule, I'll watch you better yet. Bian. In time I may believe, yet I miftruft. (16) Luc. Miftruit it not,

for, sure, Æacides Was Ajax, callid fo from his grandfather,

Bian. I must believe my master, else I promise you, I fhould be arguing still upon that doubt; But let it reft. Now, Licia, to you: Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleasant with you both.

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

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

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 pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am pait my Gamut long ago. & Hor. Yet read the Gamut of Hortensio.

Bian. [reading ] Gamut I am, the ground of all accord,

Are, to plead Hortensio's passion ;
Bimi, Bianca, take him for thy Lord,

Cfaut, that loves with all affection;
D fol re, one cliff, but two.notes have I.
Elami, fhow pity, or I die.
Call you this Gamut? tut, I like it not;

(16) Intimne I may believe, yet I mistru.] This and the seven verses, that follow, have in all the editions been stupidly shuffled and misplac'd to wrong speakers: So that every word said was glaringly out of character. I first directed the true regulation of them in my SHAKESPEARE restor'd, and Mr. Pope has since embraced it in his last edition. I ought to take notice, the ingenious Dr. Tbirlby, with cut seeing my book, þad struck out the selfısame regulation,


Old fashions please me beft; I'm not so nice (17)
To change true rules for odd inventions.

Enter a Servant.
· Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,
And help to dress your fifter's chamber up;
You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day,

Bian. Farewel, sweet masters, both; I muft be gone. [Exit. Luc. Faith, mistress, then I have no caufe to stay. [Exit.

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 cast thy wandring eyes on every ftale;
Seize thee, who lift, if once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit.
Enter Baptifta, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lucentio,

Bianca, and attendants,
Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
ThatCathrine and Petruchio should be married ;
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
What will be said ? what mockery will it be,
Towant the bridegroom, when the prieft attends
Tofpeak the ceremonal rites of marriage ?
What says Lucentio to this shạme of ours?

Cath. No shame, but mine; I muft, forsooth, be forcd
To give my hand oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudelby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour :
(17) Old fashions please me beft: I'm not fo nice

To change true rules for new inventions.] This is sense and the meaning of the paffage ; but the reading of the second verse, for all that, is sophisticated. The genuine copies all concur in reading,

To change true rules for old inventions, : This, indeed, is contrary to the very thing it should exprefs: But the easy alteration, which I have made, restores the sense, but adds contrast in the terms perfectly juft, True rules are oppos’d to ods inventions ; i. e. W bimfies. R4


And to be noted for a merry man,
He'll wooe 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 say, lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.

Tra. Patierce, good Catharine, and Baptista too ;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well;
What ever fortune stays him from his word.
Tho'he be blunt, I know him pafling wife ;
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honeft.
Cath. Would Catharine had never seen him tho'!

[Exit weeping
Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
For such an injury would vex a saint,
Much more a lirew of thy impatient humour.

Enter Biondello. Bion. Mafter, master; old news, and such news 24 you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?
Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?
Bap. Is he come?
Bion. Why, no, Sir.
Bap. What then?
Bion. He is coming.
Bap. When will he be here?
Bion. When he stands where I am, and sees you there.
Fra. But, say, what to thine old news?

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an ola jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd; an old rufty sword ta'en out of the townarmory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points; his horse hip'd with an old mothy faddle, the stirrups of no kindred; besides, pofleft with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine, troubled with tne lampaffe, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, (ped with spavins, 'raied with the yellows, fast cure of


the fives, ftark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and shoulder-Thotten, nearlegg'd before, and with a half checkt bit, and a headstall of sheep's leather, which being reftrain'd, to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repair'd with knots; one girt, fix times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and there piec'd with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparifon'd like the horse, with a linnen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a red and blue list, an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies prickt up in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey.

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to this fashion; Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd.

Bap. I am glad he's come, howsoever he comes.
Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.
Bap. Didft thoú not say, he comes ?
Bion. Who? that Petruchio came.
Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, Sir; I say, his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.

Enter Petruchio and Grumio fantastically habited. Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home? Bap. You're welcome. Sir. Pet. And yet I come not well. Bap. And yet you halt not. Tra. Not so well 'parell'd, as I wish you were.

Pet. Were it better, I should rush in chus. But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride ? How does my father? gentles, methinks, you frown: And wherefore gaze this goodly company,


As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Bap. Why, Sir, you know, this is your wedding day :
First, were we fad, fearing you would not come;
Now fadder, that you come so unprovided.
Ey, doff this habit, fhame to your ettate,
An eye-fore to our folemn festival.

Tra. 'And tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detain’d you from your wife,
And fent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear :
Suffi ceth, I am come to keep my.word,
Thy' in some part enforced to digress, is
Which at more leisure I will fo excuse,
As you Thall well be fatisfied withal.
But, where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
The morning wears; 'tis time, we were at church,

Tra. See not your bride in these unreverent robes ; Go to my chamber, put on cloaths of mine.

Pet. Not I; believe me, thus I'll visit her.
Bap. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

Pet. Good footh, even thus; therefore ha done with
To me she's married, not unto my cloaths : [words;
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could change these poor accoutrements,
"Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,
When I fhould bid good-morrow to my bride,
And feal the title with a lovely kiss?

[Exit. Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire: We will persuade him, be it possible, To put on better ere he go to church.

Bap. I'll after him, and see the event of this, [Exit.

Tra, But, Sir, our love concerneth us to add
Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
As I before imparted to your worthip,
I am to get a man, (whate'er he be,
It kills not much; we'll fit him to our turn;)
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
And make assurance here in Padua

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