That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
How tame, when men and women are alone,
A meacock wretch' can make the curstest shrew.-
Give me thy hand, Kate : I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day :-
Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests ;
I will be sure, my Katharine shall be fine.
Bap. I know not what to say: but give me your

hands;
God send you joy, Petruchio ! 'tis a match.

Gra. Tra. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.

Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu ; I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace: We will have rings, and things, and fine array ; And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINE, seve

- rally. Gre. Was ever match clappd up so suddenly? Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's

part, And venture madly on a desperate mart.

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Bap. The gain I seek is-quiet in the match. · Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch. But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter ;Now is the day we long have looked for ; I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more Than words can witness, or your thoughts can

guess. Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love so dear as I.

' - 'tis a world to see,] i. e. it is wonderful to see. This expression is often met with in old historians as well as dramatic writers.

"A meacock wretch —] i. e. a timorous dastardly creature.

Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.
Gre.

But thine doth fry. Skipper, stand back; 'tis age, that nourisheth.

Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I'll compound

this strife: 'Tis deeds, must win the prize; and he, of both, That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.Say, signior Gremio, what can you assure her? Gre. First, as you know, my house within the

city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
Basons, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry:
In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turky cushions boss'd with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or housekeeping: then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
And, if I die to-morrow, this is hers.
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine.

Tra. That, only, came well in- Sir, list to me, I am my father's heir, and only son:

? — counterpoints,] These coverings for beds are at present called counterpanes; but either mode of spelling is proper. Counterpoint is the monkish term for a particular species of musick, in which, notes of equal duration, but of different harmony, are set in opposition to each other. In like manner counterpanes were anciently composed of patch-work, and so contrived that every pane or partition in them, was contrasted with one of a different colour, though of the same dimensions. STEEVENS.

VOL. IV.

If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old signior Gremio has in Pádua;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year,
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.-
What, have I pinch'd you, signior Gremio?

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year, of land!
My land amounts not to so much in all:
That she shall have; besides an argosy,
That now is lying in Marseilles' road :-
What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses, And twelve tight gallies: these I will assure her, And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.

Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; And she can have no more than all I have;If you like me, she shall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the

world,
By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied. *

Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best;
And, let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own; else, you must pardon me:
If you should die before him, where's her dower ?

Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as

old?
Bap. Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolv’d:-On Sunday next you know,
My daughter Katharine is to be married:

My a thus rech, sente.

s t wo galliasses,] A galeas or galliass, is a heavy low-built vessel of burthen, with both sails and oars, partaking at once of the nature of a ship and a galley. STEEVENS.

- out-vied.] This is a term at the old game of gleek. When one man was vied upon another, he was said to be out-vied.

Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to signior Gremio:
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.

[Exit. Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.–Now I fear thee

not; Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and, in his waning age, Set foot under thy table: Tut! a toy! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. [Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide! Yet I have faced it with a card of ten. 'Tis in my head to do my master good:I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio Must get a father, callid-suppos'd Vincentio; And that's a wonder: fathers, commonly, Do get their children; but, in this case of wooing, A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.

[Exit.

ACT III.
SCENE I. A Room in Baptista's House.
Enter Lucentio, HORTENSIO, and Bianca.

Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir:
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal ?

Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is

The patroness of heavenly harmony:
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in musick we have spent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.

Luc. Preposterous ass! that never read so far
To know the cause why musick was ordain'd!
Was it not, to refresh the mind of man,
After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.

Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, To strive for that which resteth in my choice: I am no breeching scholar" in the schools; I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself. And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down :Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd. Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?

[To BIANCA.-HORTENSIO retires. Luc. That will be never;-tune your instrument. Bian. Where left we last?

Luc. Here, madam:
Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;

Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,—Simois, I am Lucentio,-hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love;-Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio,-regia, bearing my port,-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.8

?- no breeching scholar-] i. e. no school-boy liable to corporal correction.

8 — pantaloon.] The old cully in Italian farces.