Pet. I know fhe is an irkfome brawling Scold;
If that be all, Masters, I hear no harm.

Gre. No, fayeft me fo, Friend? What Countryman?
Pet. Born in Verona, old Antonio's Son;
My Father's dead, my Fortune lives for me,

And I do hope good Days, and long, to fee.

Gre. Oh Sir, fuch a Life with fuch a Wife were ftrange; But if you have a Stomach, to't a God's Name, You fhall have me affifting you in all.

But will you woo this wild Cat?

Pet. Will I live?

Gru. Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.
Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent?
Think you a little Din can daunt my Ears?
Have I not in my time heard Lions roar?
Have I not heard the Sea, puff'd up with Winds,
Rage like an angry Boar, chafed with Sweat;
Have I not heard great Ordnance in the Field?
And Heav'ns Artillery thunder in the Skies?
Have I not in a pitched Battel heard

Loud Larums, neighing Steeds, and Trumpets Clargue?
And do you tell me of a Woman's Tongue,

That gives not half fo great a blow to hear,

As will a Chefout in a Farmer's Fire?

Tufh, tuh, fear Boys with Bugs.

Gru. For he fears none.

Gre. Hortenfio, hark:

This Gentleman is happily arriv'd,

My Mind prefumes for his own good, and yours.
Hor. I promis'd we would be Contributors,
And bear his Charge of wooing whatsoever.
Gre. And fo we will, provided that he win her.
Gru. I would I were as fure of a good Dinner.
Enter Tranio brave, and Biondello.

Tra. Gentlemen, God fave you. If I may be bold,
Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way
To the House of Signior Baptifta Minola?

Bion. He that has the two fair Daughters; is't he you

mean?

Tra. Even he, Biondello.

Gre. Hark you, Sir, you mean not her to

Tra.

Tra. Perhaps him and her, what have you to do?
Pet. Nor her that chides, Sir, at any hand, I pray
Tra. I love no Chiders, Sir: Biondello, let's away.
Luc. Well begun, Tranio.

Hor. Sir, a word e'er you go:

Are you a Sutor to the Maid you talk of, yea or no?
Tra. And if I be, Sir, is it any Offence?

Gre. No; if without more Words you will get you hence Tra, Why, Sir, I pray, are not the Streets as free For me, as for you?

Gre. For this Reafon, if you'll know,

That she's the choice Love of Signior Gremio.

Hor. That he's the Chofen of Signior Hortenfio.
Tra, Softly, my Mafters: If you be Gentlemen,
Do me this Right; hear me with Patience.
Baptifta is a noble Gentleman,

To whom my Father is not all unknown,
And were his Daughter fairer than fhe is,
She may more Sutors have, and me for one.
Fair Lada's Daughter had a thousand Wooers,
Then well may one more fair, Bianca have,
And fo the hall. Lucentio fhall make one,
Tho' Paris came, in hope to speed alone.

Gre. What, this Gentleman will out-talk usall.
Luc. Sir, give him head, I know he'll prove a Jade.] 1
Pet. Hortenfio, to what end are all these words?
Hor. Sir, let me be fo bold as to ask you,

Did you yet ever fee Baptifta's Daughter?

Tra. No, Sir; but hear I do that he hath two:
The one as famous for a fcolding Tongue,
As is the other for beauteous Majefty.

Pet. Sir, Sir, the firft's for me, let her go by.
Gre. Yea, leave that Labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more than Alcides twelve.

Pet. Sir, understand you this of me, infooth,
The youngest Daughter, whom you hearken for,
Her Father keeps from all accefs of Sutors,
And will not promife her to any Man,
Q &

Until

Until the eldest Sifter firft be Wed:
The younger then is free, and not before.
Tra. If it be fo, Sir, that you are the Man
Muft fteed us all, and me amongst the rest:
And if you break the Ice, and do this feat,
Atchieve the Elder, fet the Younger free,
For our accefs, whofe hap fhall be to have her,
Will not fo graceless be, to be ingrate.

Hor. Sir, you fay well, and well you do conceive:
And fince you do profefs to be a Sutor,
You muft, as we do, gratifie this Gentleman,
To whom we all reft generally beholden.

Tra. Sir, I fhall not be flack, in fign whereof,
Please ye, we may contrive this Afternoon,
And quaff Caroufes to our Mistress's Health,
And do as Adverfaries do in Law,

Strive mightily, but eat and drink as Friends.
Gru. Bion. O excellent Motion: Fellows, let's be
Hor. The Motion's good indeed, and be it fo,
Petruchio, I fhall be your Ben venuto.

Enter Katharina and Bianca.

gone.

[Exeunt.

Bian. Good Sifter, wrong me not, nor wrong your felf, To make a Bondmaid and a Slave of me;

That I difdain: But for these other Goods,

Unbind my Hands, I'll pull them off my felf,
Yea, all my Raiment, to my Petticoat,
Or what you will command me will I do;
So well I know my Duty to my Elders.

Kath. Of all thy Sutors here I charge thee tell
Whom thou lov'ft beft: See thou diffemble not.
Bian. Believe me Sifter, of all the Men alive
I never yet beheld that fpecial Face,
Which I could fancy more than any other.

Kath. Minior, thou lieft; is it not Hortenfio?
Bian. If you affect him, Sifter, here I fwear
I'll plead for you my felf, but you fhall have him.
Kath. Oh then belike you fancy Riches more,
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.

Bian. Is it for him you do envy me fo?
Nay then you jeft, and now I well perceive

You

You have but jefted with me all this while;
I prethee, Sifter Kate, untie my Hands,

Kath. If that be Jeft, then all the reft is fo. [Strikes her.
Enter Baptifta.

Bap. Why how now Dame, whence grows this Infolence?
Bianca, ftand afide; poor Girl, fhe weeps;
Go ply thy Needle, meddle not with her.

For fhame, thou Hilding of a devilish Spirit,

Why dost thou wrong her, that did ne'er wrong thee?
When did the crofs thee with a bitter word?

Kath. Her Silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd.

1

[Flies after Bianca.
Bap. What in my fight? Bianca, get thee in. [Exit Bian.
Kath. What, will you not fuffer me? Nay, I fee
She is your Treafure, fhe muft have a Husband,
I muit Dance bare-foot on her Wedding-day,
And for your Love to her lead Apes in Hell:
Talk not to me, I will go fit and weep,
Till I can find occafion of Revenge.

Bap. Was ever Gentleman thus griev'd as I?
But who comes here ?-

[Exit Kath.

Enter Gremio, Lucentio in the Habit of a mean Man, Petruchio with Hortenfio like a Musician, Tranio and Biondello bearing a Lute and Books.

Gre. Good morrow, Neighbour Baptifta.

Bap. Good morrow, Neighbour Gremio: God fave you Gentlemen.

Pet. And you, good Sir; Pray have you not a Daughter call'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?

Bap. I have a Daughter, Sir, call'd Katharina.

Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly.

Pet. You wrong me, Signior Gremio, give me leave,

I am a Gentleman of Verona, Sir,

That hearing of her Beauty and her Wit.

Her Affability and bafhful Modefty,

Her wonderous Qualities, and mild Behaviour,

Am bold to fhew my felf a forward Guest

Within your Houfe, to make mine Eye the Witness
Of that Report, which I fo oft have heard.

And for an entrance to my Entertainment, [Prefenting Hor.
I do prefent you with a Man of mine,

Q3

Cunning

Cunning in Mufick, and the Mathematicks,
To inftru&t her fully in thofe Sciences,
Whereof I know the is not ignorant :
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong,

His Name is Licia, born in Mantua.

Bap. Y'are welcome, Sir, and he for your good fake.
But for my Daughter Katharine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more's my Grief.
Pet. I fee you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my Company.

Bap. Miftake me not, I fpeak but what I find.
Whence are you, Sir? What may I call your Name?
Pet. Petruchio is my Name, Antonio's Son,
A Man well known throughout all Italy.

Bap. I know him well: You are welcome for his fake. Gre. Saving your Tale, Petruchio, I pray let us that are poor Petitioners Ipeak too. Baccare, you are marvellous forward.

Pet. Oh, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be doing.

Gre. I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curfe Your wooing, Neighbours. This is a Gift Very grateful, I am fure of it: To exprefs The like kindness my felf, that have been More kindly beholding to you than any: Free leave give unto this young Scholar, that hath Been long ftudying at Rhemes, as cunning [Prefenting Luc, In Greek, Latin, and other Languages,

As the other in Mufick and Mathematicks;

His Name is Cambio; pray accept his Service.

Bap. A thoufand thanks, Signior Gremio:

Welcome, good Cambio. But, gentle Sir,
Methinks you walk like a Stranger,

[To Tranio,

May I be fo bold, to know the Caufe of your coming?
Tra. Pardon me, Sir, the Boldness is mine own,

That being a Stranger in this City here,
Do make my felfa Sutor to your Daughter,
Unto Bianca, Fair and Virtuous:

Nor is your firm Refolve unknown to me,
In the Preferment of the eldest Sifter.

This Liberty is all that I request,

That