Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you; Unless you were of gentler, milder mould. Cath. 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 fhall be Tra. Hufh, mafter, here's fome good That wench is ftark mad, or wonderful froward; Luc. But in the other's filence I do fee Afide Maid's mild behaviour and fobriety. Peace, Tranio. Tra. Well faid, master; 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. Cath. A pretty peat! it is beft put finger in the eye, an she knew why. Bian. Sifter, content you in my discontent. -Sir, to your pleature humbly I fubfcribe: My books and inftruments fhall be my company, On them to look, and practise by myself. Luc. Hark, Tranio, thou may'st hear Minerva fpeak. [Afide. Hor. Signior Baptifta, will you be fo ftrange? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief. Gre. Why will you mew her up, 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. [Exit Bianca. And for I know she taketh most delight In mufic inftruments, and poetry; School-mafters will I keep within my house,. Fit to inftruct her youth. If you, Hortenfio, To mine own children, in good bringing up. And fo farewell: Catharina, you may stay, For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit, Cath. Why, and I truft I may go too, may I not? What, fhall I be appointed hours, as tho', belike, I knew not what to take, and what to leave? ha! [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam. Your gifts are to good, here is none will hold you. Our love is not fo great, Hortenfio, but we may blow our pails together, and faft it fairly out. Our cake's dough on both fides. Farewell. 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 wifh him to her father. Hor. So will I, Signior Gremio. But a word, I pray; though the nature of our quarrel never yet brook'd parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair miftreis, and be happy rivals in Bianca's lo e, to labour and effect one thing 'pecially. Gre. What's that, I pray? Hor. Marry, Sir, to get a husband for her fister. Gre. A hufband! 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 so very a fool to be married to hell? Hor. Tufh, Gremio; tho' it pafs your patience and mine to endure her loud alarms, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an' a man could light on them, would take her with all her faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition, to be whip'd at the high croís every morning. イ Hor. 'Faith, as you fay, there's a small choice. in rotten apples. But come, fince this bar in law makes us friends, it fhall be fo far forth friendly maintain'd, 'till by helping Baptifta's eldest daugh ter to a husband, we let his youngest free for a husband, and then have to't afrefli. Sweet Bianca! happy man be his dole! he that runs fastest 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 his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the houfe of her. Come on. [Exeunt Gremio and Hortenfio. Manent Tranio and Lucentio. Tra. I pray, Sir, tell me, is it poffible That love fhould on a fudden take fuch hold? Tra. Mafter, it is no time to chide you now; If love hath touch'd you, nought remains but so*, * The next line from Terence, fhews that we should read, "If love hath toil'd you,"—i. e. taken you in his toils, his nets. Alluding to the captus eft habet, of the fame author. Warburton. † Our author had this line from Lilly; which I mention, that it may not be brought as an argument of his learning.. Johnfon. 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 Jove to humble him to her hand, Began to fcold, and raise up fuch a ftorm, Tra. Nay, then 'tis time to stir him from his trance. I pray, awake, Sir; if you love the maid, Bend thoughts and wit t'atchieve her. Thus it ftands; Her eldest fifter is fo curs'd and fhrewd, That till the father rids his hands of her, Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! Tra. Mafter, for my hand, Both our inventions meet and jump in one. Tra. You will be fchoolmaster, And undertake the teaching of the maid: That's your device. Luc. It is may it be done? Tra. Not poffible: for who fhall bear your part, And be in Padua here Vincentio's ion, Keep houfe, and ply his book, welcome his friends, Vifit his countrymen, and banquet them? Luc. Bafta ;-content thee; for I have it full. We have not yet been feen in any house, Nor can we be diftinguifh'd by our faces, Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pifa. For fo your father charg'd me at our parting; Altho', I think, 'twas in another sense; Becaufe fo well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be fo, becaufe Lucentio loves; And let me be a flave, t' atchieve that maid Whofe fudden fight hath thrall'd my wounded eye. Enter Biondello. Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio ftollen your cloaths, or you ftollen his, or both? pray, what's the news? Luc. Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jeft; And therefore frame your manners to the time. Your fellow Tranio, here, to fave my life, Puts my apparel and my count'nance on, And I, for my escape, have put on his : For in a quarrel, fince I came afore, I kill'd a man, and fear I am defcry'd. Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes; While I make way from hence to fave my life. You understand me? Bion. Ay, Sir, ne'er a whit. |