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And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
Cath. I dare assure you, Sir, 'tis almost two;
Pet. It shall be seven, ere I go to horse. Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do, You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone, I will not go to-day, and ere I do, It shall be what o'clock I say it is. Hor. Why, fo: this gallant will command the sun.
[Exeunt Pet. Cath. and Hor.
[The Presenters, above, speak here. Lord. Who's within there?
[Sly sleeps. Enter Servants. Asleep again! go take him easily up, and put him in his own apparel again. But see you wake himu not in any case.
Serv. It mall be done, my Lord; come, help to bear him hence.
[They bear off Sly.
S CE N E IX.
Enter Tranio, and the Pedant dress'd like Vincentio. Tra, Sir, this is the house; please it you that I
Ped. Ay, what else? and (but I be deceived,)
Tra. 'Tis well, and hold your own in any case V.ith such austerity as 'longeth to a father.
Enter Biondello. Ped. I warrant you : but, Sir, here comes your
boy; 'Twere good he were school'd.
Tra. Fear you not him. Sirrah, Biondello,
Bion. Tut, fear not me.
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 Baptista; set your countenance, Sir.
SC E N E X.
Enter Baptista and Lucentio. Tra. Signior Baptista, you are happily met. Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of; I pray you stand, good father, to me now, Give ne Bianca for my patrimony. Ped. Soft, fon. Sir, by your leave, having come
to Padua To gailier in fome debts, my son Lucentio Made me acquainted with a weighty cause Of love between your daughter and himself: And for the good report I hear of you, And for the love he beareth to your daughter, And flie to him; to stay him not too long, I am content, in a good father's care, To have him match'd; and if you please to like No worse than I, Sir, upon some agreement, Me shall you find most ready and most willing, With one consent, to have her so bestowed: For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
Bap. Not in my house, Lucentio ; for, you know,
Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, Sir:
Bap. It likes me well. Go, Cambio, hie you home,
S CE N E XI.
Enter Lucentio and Biondello. Bion. Cambio. Luc. What say'st thou, Biondello ? Bion. You saw my master wink, and laugh upon
you. Luc. Biondello, what of that?
Bion. 'Faith nothing; but he's left me here behind, to expound the meaning or moral of his ligns and tokens.
Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.
Bion. Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
Luc. And what of him ?
Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
Luc. And then ?
Bion. The old priest at St Luke's church is at your command at all hours.
Luc. And what of all this?
Biop. I cannot tell, except they are busied about a counterfeit assurance ; take your assurance of her, Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solim; to th' church take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses. If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, but bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.
Luc. Hear'st thou, Biondello ?
Bion. I cannot tarry; I knew a wench married in an afternoon, as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so may you ; Sir, and to adieu, Sir ; my master hath appointed ine 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 me be so contented : She will be pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt ? Hap what hap may, l'll roundly go about her : It shall go hard, if Cambio go without her.
S CE N E XII.
A green Lane.
Enter Petruchio, Catharina, and Hortensio.
our father's. Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon !
Eath. The moon ? the fim : it is not moon-light Pet. I say it is the moon that shines so bright. Cath. I know it is the sun that Mines so bright.
Pet. Now by iny mother's son, and that's myself, It thall be moon, or star, or what I lift, Or ere I journev to your faiher's house : Go on, and fetch our horses back again. Evermore croft and crost, nothing but crost!
Hor. Say as he says, or we shall never go.
Cath. Forward, I pray, since we are come so far,
Pet. I say it is the moon.
Cath. Then God be blest, it is the blessed sun.
you will have it named, even that it is, And so it shall be so for Catharine.
Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won,
Pet. Well, forward, forward; thus the bow. And not unluckily against the bias. But soft, some company is coming here.