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Luc. Bafta; content thee; for I have it full. We have not yet been feen in any house, Nor can we be diftinguish'd by our faces, For man or mafter: then it follows thus. Thou shalt be mafter, Tranio, in my ftead; Keep houfe, and port, and fervants, as I fhould. I will fome other be, fome Florentine, Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa. 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be fo: Tranio, at once Uncafe thee: take my colour'd hat and cloak. When Biondello comes, he waits on thee ; But I will charm him firft to keep his tongue. Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits. In brief, good Sir, fith it your pleasure is, And I am tied to be obedient,

(For fo your Father charg'd me at our parting:; Be ferviceable to my Son, quoth he,)

Altho', I think, 'twas in another fenfe;

I am content to be Lucentio,

Because fo well I love Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, be fo; because Lucentio loves;
And let me be a flave t'atchieve that Maid,
Whofe fudden fight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.

Enter Biondello.

Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? nay, how now, where are you? mafter, has my fellow Tranio ftoll'n your cloaths, or you ftoll'n his, or both? pray, what's the news?

Luc. Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jest;
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to fave my life,
Puts my apparel and my count'nance on,
And I for my efcape have put on his :
For in a quarrel, fince I came afhore,
I kill'd a man, and, fear, I am defcry'd :
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes;
While I make way from hence to fave my life.
You understand me?

Bion. Ay, Sir, ne'er a whit.

Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth; Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Bion. The better for him: 'Would, I were fo too. Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next wifh after; that Lucentio, indeed, had Baptifta's youngest Daughter. But, firrah, not for my fake, but your mafter's, I advise you, ufe your manners difcreetly in all kind of companies: when I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; but in all places elfe, your master Lucentio.

Luc. Tranio, let's go: one thing more refts, that thy felf execute, to make one among these wooers; if thou ask me why, fufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. [Exeunt. SCENE, before Hortenfio's House, in Padua. Enter Petruchio, and Grumio.

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Pet. To fee my friends in Padua ; but of all
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortenfio; and, I trow, this is the house;
Here, firrah, Grumio, knock, I fay.

Gru. Knock, Sir? whom fhould I knock? is there

any man, has rebus'd your Worship?

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me here foundly.
Gru. Knock you here, Sir? why, Sir, what am I,
Sir,

That I fhould knock you here, Sir?

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well; or I'll knock your knave's pate.
Gru. My mafter is grown quarrelfome: I fhould
knock you first,

And then I know after, who comes by the worst.
Pet. Will it not be?

Faith, firrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it,

I'll try how you can Sol, Fa, and fing it.

[He wrings him by the ears. Gru. Help, mafters, help; my maiter is mad. Pet. Now knock, when I bid you: Sirrah! Villain!

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Enter

Enter Hortenfio.

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Hor. How now, what's the matter? my old friend Grumio, and my good friend Petruchio! how do you at Verona?

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il Core ben trovato, may I fay.

Hor. Alla noftra Cafa benvenuto, molto bonorato Signor mio Petruchio.

Rife, Grumio, rife; we will compound this quarrel. Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he leges in Latine. If this be not a lawful caufe for me to leave his fervice, look you, Sir: he bid me knock him, and rap him foundly, Sir. Well, was it fit for a fervant to use his mafter fo, being, perhaps, for aught I fee, two and thirty, a pip out?

Whom, would to God, I had well knock'd at first,
Then had not Grumio come by the worst.
Pet. A fenfeless villain!

Good Hortenfio,
I bid the rafcal knock upon your gate,

And could not get him for my heart to do it.

Gru. Knock at the gate? O heav'ns! spake you not thefe words plain ? firrah, knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me foundly and come you now with knocking at the gate?

Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. Hor. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge: Why, this is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you, Your ancient, trufty, pleasant fervant Grumio; And tell me now, fweet Friend, what happy Gale Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona ?

Pet. Such wind as fcatters young men through the
world,

To feek their fortunes farther than at home ;
Where small experience grows, but in a few.
Signior Hortenfio, thus it ftands with me,
Antonio my Father is deceas'd;

And I have thruft my felf into this maze,
Happly to wive and thrive, as best I may :
Crowns in my purfe I have, and goods at home,

And

And fo am come abroad to see the world.

Hor. Petruchio, fhall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a fhrewd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'dft thank me but a little for my counfel,
And yet, I'll promise thee, she shall be rich,
And very rich: but thou'rt too much my friend,
And I'll not wifh thee to her.

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt fuch friends as us
Few words fuffice; and therefore if you know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife;
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance)
Be fhe as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curit and threwd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,

She moves me not; or not removes, at least,
Affection's edge in me. Were the as rough
As are the fwelling Adriatick Seas,

I come to wive it wealthily in Padua :
If wealthily, then happily, in Padua.

Gru. Nay, look you, Sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is why, give him gold enough, and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby, or an old Trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, tho' fhe have as many diseases as two and fifty horfes; why, nothing comes amifs, fo mony comes withal.

Hor. Petruchio, fince we are ftept thus far in, 1

I will continue That I broach'd in jeft.

I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife

With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;
Brought up, as beft becomes a gentlewoman.

Her only fault, and that is fault enough,

Is, that fhe is intolerably curft;

And threwd, and froward, fo beyond all measure,

That, were my state far worser than it is,

I would not wed her for a Mine of gold.

Pet. Hortenfio, peace; thou know'ft not gold's ef- · fect;

Tell me her Father's name, and 'tis enough:

For I will board her, tho' fhe chide as loud

As thunder, when the clouds in Autumn crack.

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Hor. Her Father is Baptifta Minola, An affable and courteous Gentleman; Her name is Catharina Minoļa,

Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue.

Pet. I know her Father, tho' I know not her;
And he knew my deceased Father well.

I will not fleep, Hortenfio, 'till I fee her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.

Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour lafts. O' my word, an fhe knew him as well as I do, she would think fcolding would do little good upon him. She may, perhaps, call him half a fcore knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing; an' he begin once, he'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, Sir, an' fhe ftand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, that the fhall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat: you know him not, Sir.

Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee, For in Baptifta's houfe my Treafure is:

He hath the jewel of my life in hold,

His youngest Daughter, beautiful Bianca;

(7) And her with holds he from me, and others more
Suitors to her, and Rivals in my love :
Suppofing it a thing impoffible,

(For thofe defects I have before rehears'd,)
That ever Catharina will be woo'd;
Therefore this order hath Baptifta ta'en,
That none fhall have accefs unto Bianca,
'Till Catharine the curft have got a husband.
Gru. Catharine the curft?

A title for a maid of all titles the worft!

(7) And ber withholds he from me. Other more Suitors to her, and Rivals in my Love: &c.] The Editors, in this Carelessnefs of their Pointing, have made ftark Nonsense of this Paffage. The Regulation, which I have given to the Text, was dictated to me by the ingenious Dr. Thirlby.

Her.

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