'Tis in my head to do my master good; Do get their children; but in this case of wooing, ]Exit. [The Prefenters, above, fpeak here. Sly. Sim, when will the fool come again? Sim. Anon, my Lord. Sly. Give's fome more drink bere-where's the tapfier ? bere, Sim, eat fome of these things. Sim. So I do, my Lord. Sly. Here, Sim, I drink to thee. АСТ III. SCENE I. Baptifta's House. Enter Lucentio, Hortenfio, and Bianca. LUCENTI O. Idler, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir: If the word hart be right, I do not see any ufe of the latter quotation. When will the fool come again?] The character of the fool has not been introduced in this drama, therefore I believe that the word again should be omitted, and that Sly asks, When will the fool come? the fool, being the favourite of the vulgar, or, as we now phrase it, of the upper gallery, was naturally expected in every interlude. To To know the cause why mufic was ordain'd: After his ftudies, or his usual pain? Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear thefe Braves of thine. Hor. You'll leave his lecture, when I am in tune? Luc. Here, Madam : Hac ibat Simois, bic eft Sigeia tellus, Hic fteterat Priami regia celfa fenis. Bian. Conftrue them. Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, bic eft, fon unto Lucentio of Pifa, Sigeia tellus, difguised thus to get your love, hic fteterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, celfa fenis, that we might beguile the old Pantaloon +. Hor. Madam, my inftrument's in tune. [Returning. Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me fee, if I can conftrue it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not, hic eft Sigeia tellus, I trust you not, hic fteterat Priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, prefume not, celfa fenis, despair not. Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune. * Pantaloon, the old cully in Italian farces. Luc. Luc. All but the base. Hor. The base is right, 'tis the bafe knave that jars. How fiery and how froward is our Pedant! Now, for my life, that knave doth court my love; Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. acides Was Ajax, call'd fo from his grandfather. Bian. I must believe my mafter, elfe I promise you, I fhould be arguing still upon that doubt; But let it reft. Now, Licio, to you: Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave awhile; My leffons make no mufick in three parts. Luc. Are you fo formal, Sir? well. I must wait, [Afide. Bian. [reading:] Gamut I am, the ground of all accord, Are, to plead Hortenfio's paffion; B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord, 5 Pedafcule, he would WARBURTON. miftruft.] This and the feven Verfes, that follow, have in all the Editions been stupidly fhuffled and mifplac'd to wrong Speakers; fo that every Word faid was glaringly out of Character. THEOBALD. E 50 D folre, one cliff, but two notes have I. Call you this Gamut? tut, I like it not; Enter a Servant. Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books, And help to dress your fifter's chamber up; Bian. Farewel, fweet mafters, both; I must be gone. [Exit. Luc. Faith, mistress, then I have no caufe to ftay. [Exit. Hor. But I have caufe to pry into this pedant, SCENE IL [Exit. Enter Baptifta, Gremio, Tranio, Catharina, Lu- Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day 7 Old fashions please me beft; To change true Rules for new Inventions.] This is Senfe and the Meaning of the Paffage; but the Reading of the Second Verfe, for all that, is fophifticated. The genuine Copies all concur in Reading, To change true Rules for old Inventions. THEOBALD. To To want the Bridegroom, when the Priest attends Cath. No fhame, but mine; I muft, forfooth, be forc'd To give my hand oppos'd against my heart,. He'll woo a thoufand, 'point the day of marriage, Cath. Would Catharine had never seen him tho'! [Exit. weeping. Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For fuch an injury would vex a Saint, Much more a Shrew of thy impatient humour. SCENE III. Enter Biondello. Bion. Mafter, Mafter; old news, and fuch news as you never heard of. Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be? Full of Spleen.] That is, full of humour, caprice, and inconfancy. E 2 Bion |