Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave a while; My lessons make no mufic in three parts.

Luc. Are you fo formal, Sir? well, I muft wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd, One fine musician groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam before you touch the inftrument, To learn the order of my fingering, I must begin with rudiments of art; To teach you Gamut in a briefer fort, More pleasant, pithy, and effectual, Than hath been taught by any of my trade; And there it is in writing fairly drawn. Bian. Why, I am past my Gamut long ago. Hor. Yet read the Gamut of Hortenfio.

Bian. [reading.] Gamut I am, the ground of all
A re, to plead Hortenfio's paffion;

B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,
C faut, that loves with all affection:
Dfolre, one cliff, but two notes have I.
E la mi, fhow pity, or I die.

Call you this Gamut? tut, I like it not;
Old fashions please me beft; I'm not fo nice
To change true rules for new inventions.

Enter a Servant.

[accord,

Saru. Miftrefs, your father prays you leave your books,

And help to drefs your fifter's chamber up;

You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day.

Bian. Farewel, fweet mafters, both; I must be gone.

[Exit.

Luc. Faith, miftress, then I have no cause to stay.

[Exit.

Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant,
Methinks, he looks as tho' he were in love:
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be fo humble,
To caft thy wandring eyes on every Stale;

Sieze thee, who lift; if once I find thee ranging,, Hortenfio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Baptifta, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lucentio, Bianca, and attendants.

Bap.

IGNIOR Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Cath'rine and Petruchio fhould be mar-

SIG

ried;

And yet we hear not of our fon-in-law.

What will be faid? what mockery will it be,
To want the Bridegroom, when the Priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?
What fays Lucentio to this fhame of ours?

Cath. No fhame, but mine; I muft, forfooth, be forc'd

To give my hand oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain Rudefby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leifure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,

Hiding his bitter jefts in blunt behaviour:
And to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banes ;
Yet never means to wed, where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Catharine,
And fay, lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.
Tra. Patience, good Catharine, and Baptista too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well;
What ever fortune stays him from his word.
Tho' he be blunt, I know him paffing wife:
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

Cath. Would Catharine had never seen him tho'!

[Exit weeping. Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;

G 4

For

For fuch an injury would vex a Saint,

Much more a Shrew of thy impatient humour.

Bion. M

ASTER, Mafter; old news, and fuch news as you never heard of. Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be? Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?

Bap. Is he come?

Bion. Why, no, Sir.
Bap. What then?

Bion. He is coming.

Bap. When will he be here?

Bion. When he ftands where I am, and fees you there.

Tra. But, fay, what to thine old news?

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cafes, one buckled, another lac'd; an old rufty sword ta'en out of the town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapelefs, with two broken points; his horfe hip'd with an old mothy faddle, the stirrups of no kindred; besides poffeft with the glanders, and like to mofe in the chine, troubled with the lampaffe, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, fped with spavins, raied with the yellows, paft cure of the fives, ftark spoiled with the ftaggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and fhoulder-fhotten, near-legg'd before, and with a half-check't bit, and a headstall of sheep's leather, which being reftrain'd, to keep him from ftumbling, hath been often burft, and now repair'd with knots; one girt fix times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and there piec'd with packthread.

Вар.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparifon'd like the horse, with a linen ftock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hofe on the other, garter'd with a red and blue lift, an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies prickt up in't for a feather: a monfter, a very monfter in apparel, and not like a christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey.

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to this fashion;

Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd.

Bap. I am glad he's come, howfoever he comes. Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didst thou not fay, he comes?

Bion. Who? that Petruchio came not?

Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, Sir; I say, his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.

Pet.

SCENE

IV.

Enter Petruchio and Grumio fantastically habited.

OM

OME, where be these gallants? who is at home?

Bap. You're welcome, Sir.

Pet. And yet I come not well.

Bap. And yet you halt not.

Tra. Not fo well 'parell'd, as I wish you were.
Pet. Were it better, I fhould rush in thus.

But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
How does my Father? Gentles, methinks, you

frown:

And wherefore gaze this goodly company,

As if they faw fome wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unufual prodigy?

G 5

Вар.

Bap. Why, Sir, you know, this is your wedding

day:

First, were we fad, fearing you
would not come;
Now, fadder, that you come fo unprovided.
Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eye-fore to our folemn feftival.

Tra. And tell us what occafion of import
Hath all fo long detain'd you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
Tho' in fome part enforced to digrefs,
Which at more leisure I will so excufe,
As you shall well be fatisfied withal.

But, where is Kate? I ftay too long from her;
The morning wears; 'tis time, we were at church.
Tra. See not your Bride in these unreverent robes;
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

Pet. Not I; believe me, thus I'll vifit her.
Bap. But thus, I truft, you will not marry her.
Pet. Good footh, even thus; therefore ha' done
with words;

'To me fhe's married, not unto my clothes:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my Bride,
And feal the title with a lovely kiss?

[Exit.

Tra. He hath fome meaning in his mad attire:

We will perfuade him, be it poffible,

To put on better ere he go to church.

Bap. I'll after him and see the event of this. [Exit.

SCENE V.

Tra. B Her Father's liking; which to bring to pafs,

As