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Lady. Thrice noble Lord, let me entreat of you,
To pardon me yet for a Night or two:
Or if not fo, until the Sun be fet;

For your Phyficians have exprefly charg'd,
In Peril to incur your former Malady,
That I should yet abfent me from your Bed;
I hope this Reafon ftands for my Excufe.

Sly. Ay, it ftands fo that I may hardly tarry fo long; But I would be loath to fall into my Dream again: I will therefore tarry in defpight of the Fiefh and the Blood. Enter a Meffenger.

Mess. Your Honour's Players, hearing your Amendment, Are come to play a pleafant Comedy;

For fo your Doctors hold it very meet,

Seeing to much Sadness hath congeal'd your Blood,
And Melancholly is the Nurfe of Frenzy,
Therefore they thought it good you hear a Play,
And frathe your Mind to Mirth and Merriment,
Which bars a thousand Harms, and lengthens Life.
Sly. Marry I will, let them play, it is not a Comonty,
a Christmas Gambold, or a tumbling Trick?

Lady. No, my good Lord, it is more pleafing Stuff.
Sly, What, Houshold Stuff?

Lady. It is a kind of Hiftory.

Sly, Well, we'll fee't:

Come, Madam Wife, fit by my Side,

And let the World flip, we fhall ne'er be Younger.
Flourish. Enter Lucentio and Tranio.

Luc. Tranio, fince for the great Defire I had
To fee fair Padua, Nursery of Arts,

I am arriv'd for fruitful Lumbardy,
The pleasant Garden of great Italy.

And by my Father's Love and Leave am arm'd
With his good Will, and thy good Company.
Moft trufly Servant well approv'd in all,
Here let us breathe, and happly institute
A Courfe of Learning, and ingenious Studies:
Pifa, renowned for grave Citizens,

Gave me my Being, and my Father first

A Merchant of great Traffick through the World:
Vincentio's come of the Bentivolti,


Vincentio's Son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become to ferve all Hopes conceiv'd
To deck his Fortune with his virtuous Deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue and that part of Philofophy
Will I apply to, that treats of Happiness.
By Virtue fpecially to be atchiev'd.
Tell me thy Mind, for I have Pisa left,'
And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
A fhallow Plafh to plunge him in the Deep,
And with Satiety feeks to quench his Thirft.
Tra. Me Pardonato, gentle Mafter mine,
I am in all affected as your felf;

Glad that you thus continue your Refolve,
To fuck the Sweets of fweet Philosophy:
Only, good Mafter, while we do admire
This Virtue, and this moral Difcipline,
Let's be no Stoicks, nor no Stocks, I pray;
Or fo devote to Ariftotle's Checks,
As Ovid be an Outcaft quite abjur'd.
Talk Logick with Acquaintance that you have,
And practice Rhetorick in your common Talk;
Mufick and Poefie ufe to quicken you,
The Mathematicks, and the Metaphyficks,
Fall to them as you find your Stomach ferves you:
No Profit grows, where is no Pleasure ta'en:
In brief, Sir, ftudy what you most affect.

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise;
If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness,
And take a Lodging fit to entertain

Such Friends, as time in Padua fhall beget.

But ftay a while, what Company is this?

Tra. Mafter, fome Shew to welcome us to Town.

Enter Baptifta with Katharina and Bianca, Gremio, and
Hortenfio. Lucentio and Tranio ftand by.

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me not farther,
For how I firmly am refolv'd you know;
That is, not to beftow my youngest Daughter,
Before I have a Husband for the Elder:
Pi 4


If either of you both love Katherina,
Because I know you well, and love you well,

Leave fhall you have to court her at

your Pleasure.
Gre. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me,
There, there, Hortenfio, will you any Wife?
Kath. I pray you, Sir, is it your Will
To make a Stale of me amongft thofe Mates?
Hor. Mates Maid, how mean you that?
No Mates, for you;

Unless you were of gentler milder Mould.

Kath. I'faith, Sir, you fhall never need to fear,
I wis it is not half way to her Heart:

But if it were, doubt not, her Care shall be,
To comb your Noddle with a three-legg'd Stool,
And paint your Face, and ufe you like a Fool.

Hor. From all fuch Devils, good Lord, deliver us,
Gre. And me too, good Lord.

Tra. Hush'd, Mafter, here's fome good Paftime toward, That Wench is ftark mad, or wonderful froward.

Luc. But in the other's Silence I do fee,

Maid's mild Behaviour and Sobriety.

Peace, Tranio.

Tra. Well faid, Mafter, mum, and gaze your fill. Bap. Gentlemen, that I may foon make good What I have faid, Bianca get you in,

And let it not difpleafe thee, good Bianca,

For I will love thee ne'er the lefs, my Girl.

Kath. A pretty Peat, it is beft put Finger in the Eye,

And the knew why.

Bian. Sifter, content you in my Difcontent.

Sir, to your Pleasure humbly I fubfcribe:

My Books and Inftruments fhall be my Company,

On them to look, and practife by my felf.

Luc. Heark, Tranio, thou mailt hear Minerva fpeak.
Hor. Signior Baptifta, will you be so strange;

Sorry am I that our good Will effects

Bianca's Grief.

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Gre. Why will you mew her


Signior Baptifta, for this Fiend of Hell,

And make her bear the Penance of her Tongue?


Bap. Gentlemen, content ye; I am refolv'd:
Go in, Bianca.

And for I know the taketh moft delight
In Mufick, Inftruments, and Poetry,
School-mafters will I keep within my House,
Fit to inftruct her Youth. If you, Hortenfio,
Or Signior Gremio, you know any fuch,
Prefer them hither, for to cunning Men
I will be very kind and liberal,

To mine own Children, in good bringing up,
And fo farewel. Katherina, you may stay,
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
Kath. Why, I truft I may go too, may I not?
What shall I be appointed Hours, as tho',
Belike, I knew not what to take,

And what to leave? Ha!



Gre. You may go to the Devil's Dam: Your Gifts are fo good, here is none will hold you. Our Love is not fo great, Hortenfio, but we may blow our Nails together, and faft it fairly out. Our Cake's Dow on both fides. Farewel; yet for the Love I bear my fweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit Man to teach her that wherein the delights, I will with him to her Father.

Hor. So will I, Signior Gremio: But a word, I pray; tho' the nature of our Quarrel yet never brook'd Parlee, know now upon advice, it coucheth us both, that we may yet again have accefs to our fair Mißtrefs, and be happy Rivals in Bianca's Love, to labour and effect one thing 'fpecially.

Gre. What's that, I pray?

Hor. Marry Sir, to get a Husband for her Sifter.
Gre. A Husband! a Devil.

Hor. I fay a Husband.

Gre. I fay a Devil. Think'ft thou, Hortenfio, tho' her Father be very rich, any Man is fo very a Fool to be married

to Hell ?

Hor, Tuh, Gremio; tho' it pafs your Patience and mine to endure her lewd Alarms, why, Man, there be good Fellows in the World, and a Man could light on them, would take her with all her Faults, and Mony enough.


Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her Dowry with this Condition, to be whip'd at the High-cross every Morning.

Hor. 'Faith, as you fay, there's fmall choice in rotten Apples: Come, fince this bar in Law makes us Friends, it fhall be fo forth friendly maintain'd, 'till by helping Baptifta's eldeft Daughter to a Husband, we fet his youngest free for a Husband, and then have to't afresh. Sweet Bianca! happy Man be his dole; he that runs fafteft gets the Ring; how fay you, Signior Gremio.

Gre. I am agreed, and would I had given him the best Horfe in Padua to begin the wooing that would throughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the Houfe of her. Come on. [Exeunt Gre. and Hor. Manet Tra. and Lucen, Tra. I pray, Sir, tell me, is it poffible

That Love fhould on a fudden take fuch hold?

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Luc. Oh Tranio, 'till I found it to be true,

I never thought it poffible or likely.

But fee, while idly I ftood looking on,
I found the effect of Love in Idlenefs.
And now in plainnefs to confefs to thee,
That art to me as fecret and as dear

As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Trazio,
If I atchieve not this young modest Girl:
Coufel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
Aflift me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Mafter, it is no time to chide you now.
Affection is not rated from the Heart;

If Love hath touch'd you, nought remains but fo,
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

Luc. Gramercy, Lad; go forward, this contents,
The reft will comfort, for thy Counsel's found.
Tra. Mafter, you look'd fo longly on the Maid,
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.

Luc. O yes, I faw fweet Beauty in her Face,
Such as the Daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Yove to humble him to her Hand,
When with his Knees he kifs'd the Cretan Strand.

Tra. Saw you no more? Mark'd you not how her Sifter Began to Scold, and raife up fuch a Storm,


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