Pet. O, pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing. Gre. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, I freely give unto you this young scholar [Presenting Lucentio.] that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and mathematics: his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service. Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio.-But, gentle sir [To Tranio:] methinks you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming? Tra. Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own; That, being a stranger in this city here, Do make myself a suitor to your daughter, Unto Bianca, fair, and virtuous. Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, In the preferment of the eldest sister: This liberty is all that I request,That, upon knowledge of my parentage, I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo, And free access and favour as the rest. And, toward the education of your daughters, I here bestow a simple instrument, And this small packet of Greek and Latin books: If you accept them, then their worth is great. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray? Tra. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio. Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report I know him well: you are very welcome, sir.Take you [To Hor.] the lute, and you [To Luc.] the set of books, You shall go see your pupils presently. Enter a Servant. Sirrah, lead These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them both, These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit Servant, with Hortensio, Lucentio, and Biondello. We will go walk a little in the orchard, Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together, They do consume the thing that feeds their fury: Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all: So I to her, and so she yields to me : For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed! But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. Re-enter Hortensio, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale? Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good musician? Hor. I think she'll sooner prove a soldier; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me. *I'did but tell her, she mistook her frets, 1 And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering; When, with a most impatient devilish spirit, Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume with them: And, with that word, she struck me on the head, terms, As she had studied to misuse me so. Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did : 0, how I long to have some chat with her! Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited: Proceed in practice with my younger daughter; She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.Signior Petruchio, will you go with us; Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you? Pet. I pray you do; I will attend her here,[Exe. Bap. Gre. Tra. and Hor. And woo her with some spirit when she comes. Say, that she rail; Why, then I'll tell her plain, (1) A fret in music is the stop which causes or regulates the vibration of the string. (2) Paltry musician. She sings as sweetly as a nightingale: Good-morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. of hearing; They call me-Katharine, that do talk of me. And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst; Kath. Mov'd! in good time: let him that mov'd you hither, Remove you hence: I knew you at the first, You were a moveable. Pet. Kath. A joint-stool. Pet. Why, what's a moveable? Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me. Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you. Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you. Kath. No such jade, sir, as you, if me you mean. Pet. Alas, good Kate! I will not burden thee: For, knowing thee to be but young and light, Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Pet. Should be? should buz. Kath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee? Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i'faith, you are too angry. Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting? In his tail. Kath. In his tongue. Whose tongue ? Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so fare well. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman. Kath. That I'll try. [Striking him. Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again. Kath. So may you lose your arms: If you strike me, you are no gentleman; And if no gentleman, why, then no arms. Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books. craven.1 Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour. Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab. not sour. (1) A degenerate cock. |