fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou lyeft. 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 said so. Tai. Imprimis, a loofe-bodied gown. Gru. "Mafter, if ever I faid loofe-bodied gown, "fow 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 small compaft cape. Gru. I confefs the cape. Tai. With a trunk-fleeve. Gru. I confefs two fleeves. 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 arm'd 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 ftraight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and fpare not me. Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he fhall have no odds. Pet. Well, Sir, in brief the gown is not for me. Gru. You are i' th' right, Sir, 'tis for my mistress. Pet. Go, take it up unto thy mafter's ufe.. Gru. Villain, not for thy life: take up my miftrefs's gown for thy master's ufe! Pet. Why, Sir, what's your conceit in that? Gru. Oh, Sir, the conceit is deeper than you think Take up my mittrefs's gown unto his mafter's ufe! [for: Oh, fie, fie, fie! Pet. Hortenfio, fay, thou wilt fee the tailor paid. (fide. Go, take it hence; be gone, and fay no more. Hor. Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow, Take no unkindness of his hafty words: Even Even in thefe honest mean habiliments : Our purfes fhall be proud, our garments poor: Cath. I dare affure you, Sir, 'tis almost two; It fhall be what a clock I fay it is. Hor. Why, fo; this gallant will command the fun. [Exeunt Pet. Cath. and Hor. [The prefenters, above, fpeak here.] Lord. Who's within there? Enter fervants. [Sly Aeeps. Afleep again! go take him eafily up, and put him in his wn apparel again. But fee you wake him not in any case. Serv. It fhall be done, my Lord; come, help to bear him bence. [They bear of Sly, SCENE IX. Before Baptifta's boufe. 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 ine Near Near twenty years ago in Genoa, Where we were lodgers, at the Pegasus. Tra. 'Tis well, and hold your own in any cafe With fuch aufterity as 'longeth to a father. Enter Biondello. Ped. I warrant you: but, Sir, here comes your boy; "Twere good he were fchool'd. Tra. Fear you not him; firrah, Biondello, Now do your duty throughly, I advise you : Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio. Bion. Tut, fear not me. Tra. But haft thou done thy errand to Baptifta? Bion. I told him that your father was in Venice; And that you look'd for him this day in Padua. Tra. Th'art a tall fellow, hold thee that to drink ; Here comes Baptifta; fet your countenance, Sir. SCENE X. Enter Baptifta and Lucentio. Ped. Soft, fon, Sir, by your leave, having come to To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio To have him match'd; and if you please to like Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to fay: Or Or both diffemble deeply their affections; Your fon fhall have my daughter with confent. Tra. I thank you, Sir. Where then do you know Be we affied; and fuch affurance ta’en, As fhall with either part's agreement stand? [beft, Bap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know, Pitchers have ears, and I have many fervants; Befides, old Gremio is heark'ning still; And, haply, then we might be interrupted. Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, Sir, There doth my father lie; and there this night We'll pass the bus'nefs privately and well: Send for your daughter by your fervant here, My boy fhall fetch the fcrivener presently. The worst is this, that at fo flender warning You're like to have a thin and flender pittance. Bap. It likes me well. Go, Cambio, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready straight: And if you will, tell what hath happen'd here: And how fhe's like to be Lucentio's wife. Luc. I pray the Gods fhe may, with all my heart! [Exit. Tra, Dally not with the Gods, but get thee gone. Signior Baptifta, fhall I lead the way? Welcome! one mefs is like to be your cheer. Bap. I'll follow you. [Exeunt. SCENE XI. Enter Lucentio and Biondello. ` Bion. Cambio. Luc. What fay't thou, Biondello? Bion. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon you. Luc. Biondello, what of that? Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his figns and tokens. Luc. I pray thee, moralize them. Bion. Then thus. Baptifta is fafe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful fon. Luc. And what of him? Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the fupper. Luc. And then? Bion. The old priest at St. Luke's church is at your tommand at all hours. Luc. And what of all this? Bion. I cannot tell, except they are bufied about a counterfeit affurance; take you affurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum folum; to the church take the priest, clark, and fome fufficient honeft witnesses: if this be not that you look for, I have no more to fay, but bid Bianca farewel for ever and a day. Luc. Hear'ft thou, Biondello? Bion. I cannot tarry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon as the went to the garden for parsley to stuff* a rabbet; and fo may you, Sir; and fo, adieu, Sir; my master hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix. [Exit. Luc. I may, and will, if fhe be fo contented: She will be pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt ? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: It shall go hard if Cambio go without her. SCENE XII. A green lane. [Exit. Enter Petruchio, Catharina, and Hortenfio. Pet. Come on, o'God's name, once more tow'rds our father's. Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the moon! Cath. The moon! the fun: it is not moon-light now. Pet. I fay it is the moon that fhines fo bright. Cath. I know it is the fun that fhines fo bright. Pet. Now by my mother's fon, and that's my felf, It shall be moon, or ftar, or what I lift, Or ere I journey to your father's house: Go on, and fetch our horfes back again. Evermore croft and croft, nothing but croft ! VOL. II. G g Hor. |