Tra. That only came well in-Sir, list to me, I am my father's heir, and only son : If I may have your daughter to my wife, I'll leave her houses three or four as good, Within rich Pisa walls, as any one Old signior Gremio has in Padua ; Besides 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! My land amounts not to so much in all : That she shall have; besides an argosy,1 That now is lying in Marseilles' road :What, have I chok'd you with an argosy? Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses, 2 And twelve tight gallies: these I will assure her, And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next. Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied. I am thus resolv'd:--On Sunday next you know, (1) A large merchant-ship. (2) A vessel of burthen worked both with sails And so I take my leave, and thank you both. [Ex. Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee and oars. not; Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I.-A room in Baptista's house. Enter Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca. Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir: Have you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal? Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is The patroness of heavenly harmony: Then give me leave to have prerogative; And when in music we have spent an hour, Your lecture shall have leisure for as much. Luc. Preposterous ass! that never read so far To know the cause why music was ordain'd! Was it not, to refresh the mind of man, After his studies, or his usual pain? Then give me leave to read philosophy, And, while I pause, serve in your harmony. Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine. (1) The highest card. Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune? Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus; Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, -Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love;Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing,-Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port,-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.2 Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. Bian. Let's hear; O fie! the treble jars. [Returning. [Hortensio plays. Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Нас ibat Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not,-Hic steterat Priami, take heed he hear us not;-regia, presume not;-celsa senis, despair not. Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune. Luc. All but the base. Hor. The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars. (1) No schoolboy, liable to be whipped. How fiery and forward our pedant is! Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. Was Ajax,-call'd so from his grandfather. Bian. I must believe my master; else, I promise you, I should be arguing still upon that doubt: Hor. You may go walk, [7o Lucentio.] and give me leave a while; My lessons make no music in three parts. Luc. Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd, [Aside. Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument, To learn the order of my fingering, Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago. Bian. [Reads.] Gamut I am, the ground of all accord, A re, to plead Hortensio's passion; D sol re, one cliff, two notes have I; Call you this-gamut? tut! I like it not: (1) Pedant. (2) Fantastical. Bap. Good-morrow, neighbour Gremio: God save you, gentlemen! Pet. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter Call'd Katharina, fair, and virtuous? Bap. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katharina. Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly. Pet. You wrong me, signior Gremio; give me leave. I am a gentleman of Verona, sir, [Presenting Hortensio. Cunning in music, and the mathematics, Bap. You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake: But for my daughter Katharine, this I know, Pet. I see, you do not mean to part with her; Or else you like not of my company. Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name? Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his sake. Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too: Baccare!! you are marvellous forward. (1) A proverbial exclamation then in use. |