Gre. Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio. Bap. Away with the dotard, to the jail with him. Enter Lucentio and Bianca.

Vin. Thus ftrangers may be hal'd and abus'd; oh, monftrous villain!

Bion. Oh, we are fpoil'd, and yonder he is; deny him, forfwear him, or elfe we are all undone.

[Exeunt Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant.

SCENE

III.

Luc. Pardon, fweet father.

[Kneeling.

Vin. Lives my fweet fon?

Bian. Pardon, dear father..

Bap. How haft thou offended? where is Lucentio ! A Luc. Here's Lucentio, right fon to the right Vincentio.

That have by marriage made thy daughter mine:
While counterfeit fuppofers bleer'd thine eype.

Gre. Here's packing with a witnefs to deceive us all.
Vin. Where is that damn'd villain Tranio,
That face'd and brav'd me in this matter fo?
Bap. Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
Bian. Cambio is change'd into Lucentio.

Luc. Love wrought thefe miracles. Bianca's love Made me exchange my ftate with Tranio, While he did bear my countenance in the town: And happily I have arriv'd at laft

Unto the wifhed haven of my blifs:

What Tranio did, myself inforce'd him to;
Then pardon him, fweet father, for my fake.

Vin. I'll flit the villain's nofe that would have fent

me to the jail.

Bap. But do you hear, Sir, have you married my daughter without asking my good-will?

Vin. Fear not, Baptifta, we will content you, go to: but I will in, to be revenge'd on this villain. [Exit. Bap. And I, to found the depth of this knavery.

[Exit. Luc. Look not pale, Bianca, thy father will not

frown.

[Exeunt. Gre. My cake is dough; but I'll in among the reft, Out of hope of all but my fhare of the feaft. [Exit. [Petruchio

Y y 2

[Petruchio and Catharina, advancing. Cath. Husband, let's follow, to fee the end of this ado.

Pet. First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
Cath. What, in the midst of the street?
Pet. What, art thou asham'd of me?

Cath. No, Sir, God forbid! but afham'd to kifs. Pet. Why, then let's home again: come, firrah, let's away.

Cath. Nay, I will give thee a kiss; now pray thee, love, ftay.

Pet. is not this well? come, my sweet Kate;

Better once than never, for never too late. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Changes to Lucentio's apartments *. Enter Baptifta, Petruchio, Hortenfio, Lucentio, and the reft.

Bap. Now, in good fadness, fon Petruchio, I think thou haft the veriest shrew of ail.

Pet.

-apartments.

Enter B ptifta, Vincentio, Gremio, Pedant, Lucentio, Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Petruchio, Catharina, Grumio, Hortenfio, and we dow. Tranio's fervants bringing in a banquet.

Luc. At laft, tho' long, our jarring notes agree:
And time it is, when raging war is done,
To fmile at 'fcapes and perils overblown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with felf fame kindness welcome thine;
Brother Petruchio, fifter Catharine,

And thou, Hortenfio, with thy loving widow,
Feaft with the best, and welcome to my house:
My banquet is to close our ftomachs up
After our great good cheer: pray you, fit down;
For now we fit to chat, as well as ear,

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat!
Bap. Padua affords this kindness, fon Petruchio,
Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
Hor. For both our fakes I would that word were true.
Pet. Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his widow.
Wid. Then never trust me, if I be ateard.

Pet. You are very fenfible, and yet you miss my fenfe.
I mean, Hortenfio is afeard of you.

Wid. He that is giddy, thinks the world turns round
Pet. Roundly replied.

Cath

Pet. Well, I fay, no; and therefore for affurance, Let's each one fend unto his wife, and he Whofe wife is moft obedient to come first,

When he doth fend for her, shall win the wager.

Cath. Miftrefs, how mean you that?

Wid. Thus I conceive by him.

Pet. Conceives by me, how likes Hortenfio that?
Hor. My widow fays, thus fhe conceives her tale.

Pet. Very well mended; kifs him for that, good widow.
Cab. He that is giady, thinks the world turns round-

I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your hubane, being troubled with a fhrew,

Measures my husband's forrow by his woe.

And now you know my meaning.

Cath. A very mean meaning.

Wid. Right, I mean you,

Cath. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.
Pet. To her, Kate.

Hor. To her, widow.

Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
Hor. That's my office.

[Drinks to Hortenfio.

Pet. Spoke like an officer; ha' to thee, lad.
Bap. How likes Gremio thefe quick-witted folks?
Gre. Believe me, Sir, they butt heads together well.
Bian. Head and butt? an hafty-witted budy
Would fay, your head and butt were head and horn.
Vin. Ay, Miftrefs Bride, hath that awaken'd you?
Ban. Ay, but not frighted me, therefore I'il fleep again.
Pet. Nay, that thou shalt not, fince you have begun:

Have at you for a better jeft or two.

Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush:

And then purfue me, as you draw your bow.

You are welcome ali.

[Exeunt Bianca, Charine, and Widow.

Pet. She hath prevented me. Here, signior Tranio.
This bird you aim`d at, tho' you hit it not;
Therefore a health to all that shot and mais'd.

Tra. Oh, Sir, Lucentio flipp'd me like nis grey-hound,”
Which runs himself, and catches for is mafter.

Pet. A good fwitt fimile, but fomething currifh.
Tra. 'Tis well, Sir, that you hunted for yourself;
"Tis thought your deer does hold you at a day.
Bap. Oh, oh, Perruchio, Tranio hits you now.
Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
Hor. Confefs, confefs, hath he not nit
Pet. He has a little gil'd me, I confels;
And as the jeft did glance away from me,
"Tisten to one it maim'd you two outright.
Enter Baptifta, &c.

уси

there?

Hor.

Hor. Content, what wager?

Luc. Twenty crowns.

Pet. Twenty crowns!

I'll venture fo much on my hawk or hound,
But twenty times fo much upon my wife.

Luc. A hundred then.

Hor. Content.

Pet. A match; 'tis done.

Hor. Who fhall begin?

Luc. That will I.

Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

Bion. I go.

Bap. Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.

[Exit.

Luc. I'll have no halves: I'll bear it all myself. A

Re-enter Biondello.

How now, what news?

Bion. Sir, my mistress fends you word

That the is bufy, and cannot come.

Pet. How he's busy, and cannot come, is that an anfwer?

Gre. Ay, and a kind one too:

Pray God, Sir, your wife send you not a worse.
Pet. I hope better.

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go, and intreat my wife to come to me forthwith.

[Exit Biondello. Pet. Oh, oh! intreat her! nay, then the needs must

come.

Hor. I am afraid, Sir, do you what you can,

Enter Biondello.

Your's will not be intreated. Now, where's my wife? Bion. She fays, you have fome goodly jeft in hand; She will not come: fhe bids you come to her.

Pet. Worfe and worse, fhe will not come !

Oh vile, intolerable, not to be endur'd.
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress,
Say, I command her to come to me.

Hor. I know her answer.

[Exit Gru

Pet. What?

Hor. She will not.

Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there's an end.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Enter Catharina.

Bap. Now, by my hollidam, here comes Catharine ! Cath. What is your will, Sir, that you fend for me? Pet. Where is your fifter, and Hortenfio's wife?! Cath. They fit conferring by the parlour-fire.

Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to come. Swinge me them foundly forth unto their husbands; Away, I fay, and bring them hither straight.

2

[Exit Catharina.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
Hor. And fo it is: I wonder what it bodes.
Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
And awful rule, and right fupremacy:

And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.
Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou haft won; and I will add
Unto their loffes twenty thousand crowns,
Another dowry to another daughter;
For fhe is change'd as fhe had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more fign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.

See, where fhe comes, and brings your froward wives
As prifoners to her womanly perfuafion.

Catharine, that cap of your's becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.

[She pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to figh, Till I be brought to fuch a filly pass.

Bian. Fie, what a foolish duty call you this? Luc. I would your duty were as foolish too!" The wifdom of your duty, fair Bianca, Coft me an hundred crowns fince fupper-time. Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty. Pet. Catharine, I charge thee, tell thefe headstrong

women,

What duty they owe to their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.

Pet.