And then let Kate be chaft, and Dian fportful! ---
Cath. Where did you ftudy all this goodly fpeech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Cath. A witty mother, witless else her fon.
Pet. Am I not wife?

Cath. Yes; keep you warm.

Pet. Why, foI mean, fweet Catharine, in thy bed: And therefore setting all this chat afide,

Thus in plain terms: your father hath confented,
That you fhall be my wife; your dow'ry greed on;
And, will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn,
For by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty,
(Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well;)
Thou must be married to no man but me.
For I am he, am born to tame you, Kate;
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate,
Conformable as other houfhold Kates;
Here comes your father, never make denial,
I muft and will have Catharine to my Wife.

SCENE V.

Enter Baptifta, Gremio, and Tranio. Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?

Pet. How but well, Sir? how but well? It were impoffible, I fhould fpeed amifs.

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Catharine, in your dumps?

Cath. Call you me daughter? now, I promise you, You've fhew'd a tender fatherly regard,

To with me wed to one half lunatick;

A madcap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,

That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

Pet. Father, 'tis thus; yourself and all the World, That talk'd of her, have talk'd amifs of her; If she be curft, it is for policy;

For fhe's not froward, but modeft as the dove:

She

She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience, fhe will prove a fecond Griffel;
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.

And, to conclude, we've greed fo well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

Cath. I'll fee thee hang'd on Sunday first.

Gre. Hark: Petruchio! fhe fays, fhe'll fee thee hang'd first.

Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night, our part!

Pet. Be patient, Sirs, I chufe her for myself;
If the and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That the fhall ftill be curft in company.

I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe

How much he loves me; oh, the kindeft Kate!-
She hung about my neck, and kifs on kifs *
She vy'd so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink fhe won me to her love.
Oh, you are novices; 'tis a world to fee,
How tame, (when men and women are alone)
A meacock wretch can make the curftest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day;
Father, provide the feast, and bid the guests;
I will be fure, my Catharine fhall be fine.

hands;

Bap. I know not what to fay, but give your
God fend you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
Gre. Tra, Amen, fay we; we will be witneffes.
Pet. Father, and wife, and Gentlemen, adieu;
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,

We will have rings and things, and fine array;
And kifs me, Kate, we will be married o’Sunday.
[Ex. Petruchio, and Catharine Jeverally.

kifs on kils

She vy'd so fast,] I know not that the word vie has any Conftruction that will fuit this

place; we may eafily read,

Kifs on kif
She ply'd fo faft.

SCENE

Gre. Was ever match clapt up fo fuddenly?
Bap. Faith, gentlemen, I play a merchant's part,
And venture madly on a defperate mart.

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the feas.
Bap. The gain I feek is quiet in the match.
Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch;
But now, Baptifta, to your younger daughter;
Now is the day we long have looked for:
I am your neighbour, "and was fuitor first.

Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more
Than words can witnefs, or your thoughts can guess.
Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love fo dear as I,
Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.

Gre. But thine doth fry.

I

Skipper, ftand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.

Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth. Bap. Content you, Gentlemen, I will compound this ftrife;

'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he, of both, That can affure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.

Say, Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?

Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city Is richly furnished with plate and gold,

Bafons and ewers to lave her dainty hands:
My hangings all of Tyrian tapeftry;

Old Gremio's notions are
confirmed by Shadwell.
The fire of love in youthful blod,
Like what is kindied in bruh-

[wood,

But for a moment burns-
But when crept into aged veins,
It flowly burns, and long remains,

It glows, and with a fullen [beat,

Like fire in logs, it burns, and [warms us longi

And though the flame be not [fo great

Yet is the heat as firong.

In

In ivory coffers I have stuft my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Coftly apparel, tents and canopies,

Fine linen, Turkey cushions bofs'd with pearl ;
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work;
Pewter and brafs, and all things that belong
To house, or houfe-keeping: 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.
Myfelf am ftruck in years, I must confess,
And if I die to morrow, this is hers;
If, whilft I live, fhe will be only mine.

-Sir, lift to me;

Tra. That only came well in-
I am my father's heir, and only fon;
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pifa walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua ;

Befides 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! 2
My land amounts but to fo much in all:
That she shall have, besides an Argofie

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year of land! My land amounts not to fo much in all:

That she fhall have, and] Tho' all the copies concur in this reading, furely, if we examine the reasoning, fomething will be found wrong. Gremio is ftartled at the high fettlement Tranio propofes; fays, his whole eftate in land can't match it, yet he'll fettle fo much a year upon her, &c. This is playing at crofs purposes. The change of the

negative in the fecond line falves the abfurdity, and fets the paífage right. Gremio and Tranie are vyeing in their offers to carry Bianca: The latter boldly propofes to fettle land to the amount of two thousand ducats per annum. My whole eftate, fays the other, in land, amounts but to that value; yet the fhall have that I'll endow her with the whole; and confign a rich vessel to her ufe, over and above. Thus all is intelligible, and he goes on to outbid his rival. WARBURT.

That

That now is lying in Marseilles's road.
What, have I choakt you with an Argofie?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no lefs
Than three great Argofies, befides two galliaffes
And twelve tight gallies; thefe I will affure her,
And twice as much, what e'er thou offer'ft next.
Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all; I have no more;
And the can have no more than all I have;
If you like me, fhe fhall have me and mine.

Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world, By your firm promife; Gremio is out-vied.

Bap. I must confefs, your offer is the best ;
And let your father make her the affurance,
She is your own, else you must pardon me :
If you fhould 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, then I am thus refolv'd:
On Sunday next, you know,

My daughter Catharine is to be married:
Now on the Sunday following fhall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this affurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio:

both. [Exit.

And fo I take my leave, and thank you both.

Gre. Adieu, good neighbour.-Now I fear thee not:
Sirrah, young gamefter, your father were a fool
To give thee all; and in his waining age

Set foot under thy table: tut! a toy!
An old Italian fox is not fo kind, my boy.

[Exit.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide! Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten: 3

3 Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten :) That is, with the highest card, in the old fimple games of our ancestors. So that this became a proverbial expreffion. So Skelton,

'Tis

And fo outface him with a card

of ten.

And Ben Johnson in his Sad Shepherd,

-a Hart of ten

I trow be be,

Fyrfte pycke a quarrel, and fall i. e. an extraordinary good one.

out with him then,

WARBURTON.

If