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Tra. Then thou wert best say, that I am not Lucentio ?

Gre. Yes, I know thee to be fignior Lucentio ?
Bap. Away with the dotard; to the jail with him!

Re-enter Biondello with Lucentio and Bianca.

Vin. Thus ftrangers may be hal'd and abus'd: oh, monftrous villain!

Bion. Oh, we are spoil'd, and yonder he is; deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.

[Exeunt Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant.

Luc. Pardon, fweet father.

Vin. Lives my sweet son?

Bian. Pardon, dear father.

[Kneeling.

Bap. How haft thou offended? where is Lucen

tio?

Luc. Here's Lucentio, right fon to the right Vincentio,

That have by marriage made thy daughter mine?

While counterfeit fuppofers blear'd thine eyne.

Gre. Here's packing with a witness, to deceive us all!

Vin Where is that damned villain, Tranio? That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter fo? Bap. Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio? Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Luc. Love wrought thefe miracles. Bianca's love Made me exchange my ftate with Tranio, While he did bear my countenance in the town; And happily I have arriv'd at laft

Unto the wished haven of my blifs:

What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to;
Then pardon him, fweet father, for my fake.

Vin. I'll fit the villian's nose, that would have

fent me to the jail.

Bap. But do you hear, fir? Have you married daughter without afking my good-will?

my

Vin. Fear not, Baptifta, we will content you, go

to:

But I will in, to be reveng'd for this villainy. [Exit. Bap. And I, to found the depth of this knavery.

[Exit. Luc. Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not

frown.

[Exeunt. Gre. My cake is dough; but I'll in among the

reft,

Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast. [Exit [Petruchio and Catharine advancing. Cath. Hufband, let's follow, to see the end of this

ado.

Pet. First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
Cath. What, in the midft of the street?
Pet. What, art thou afham'd of me?

Cath. No, fir, God forbid! but afham'd to kifs. Pet. Why, then let's home again: Come, firrah, let's away.

Cath. Nay, I will give thee a kifs: now pray thee, love, stay.

Pet. Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate; Better once than never, for never too late. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Lucentio's apartments.

Enter Baptifta, Vincentio, Gremio, Pedant, Lucentie, Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Petruchio, Catharine, Grumio, Hortenfio, and Widow. The ferving-men with Tranio bringing in a banquet.

Luc. At laft, tho' long, our jarring notes agree: And time it is, when raging war is done,

My cake is dough.] This is a proverbial expreffion which I meet with in the old interlude of Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1598. Alas poor Tom, his cake is dough." STEEVENS.

To

To fmile at 'scapes and perils over-blown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with felf-fame kindness welcome thine:
Brother Petruchio, fifter Catharine,-

And thou, Hortenfio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my houfe:
My banquet is to close our stomachs up

After our great good cheer: Pray you, sit down;
For now we fit to chat, as well as eat.

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat!
Bap. Padua affords this kindness, fon Petruchio.
Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
Hor. For both our fakes, I would that word were

'true.

Pet. Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his widow. Wid. Then never truft me if I be afeard.

Pet. You are very fenfible, and yet you fense: I mean, Hortenfio is afeard of you.

mifs my

Wid. He, that is giddy, thinks the world turns round.

Pet. Roundly reply'd,

Cath. Miftrefs, how mean you that?
Wid. Thus I conceive by him.

Pet. Conceives by me! how likes Hortenfio that?
Hor. My widow fays, thus fhe conceives her tale.
Pet. Very well mended: kiss him for that, good
widow.

Cath. He, that is giddy, thinks, the world turns round.

I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husband's forrow by his woe:

And now you know my meaning.

Cath. A very mean meaning.

Wid. Right, I mean you.

Cath. And I am mean, indeed, refpecting you.
Pet. To her, Kate!

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Hor. To her, widow!

Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her

down.

Hor. That's my office.

Pet. Spoke like an officer: ha' to thee, lad

[Drinks to Hortenfio. Bap. How likes Gremio thefe quick-witted folks? Gre. Believe me, fir, they butt together well. Bian. Head and butt? an hafty-witted body Would fay, your head and butt were head and horn. Vin. Ay, Mistress bride, háth that awaken'd you? Bian. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.

Pet. Nay, that thou shalt not: fince you have begun,

Have at you for a better jeft or two.

Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush: And then pursue me, as you draw your bow:

You are welcome all.

[Exeunt Bianca, Catharine, and Widow. Pet. She hath prevented me. Here, fignior Tranio, This bird you aim'd at, tho' you hit her not; Therefore, a health to all that shot and mifs'd.

Tra. Oh, fir, Lucentio flipt me like his grey-hound, Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

Pet. A good fwift fimile, ' but fomething currish. Tra. 'Tis well, fir, that you hunted for yourself: 'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay. Bap. Oh, oh, Petruchio, Tranio hits you now. Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. Hor. Confefs, confefs; hath he not hit you there? Pet. He has a little gall'd me, I confess;

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-fwift,] befides the original fenfe of Speedy in motion, fignified witty, quick-witted. So in As You Like It, the Duke fays of the Clown, He is very fwift and fententious. Quick is now used in almost the fame fenfe as nimble was in the age after that of our author. Heylin fays of Hales, that he had known Laud for a nimble difputant. JOHNSON.

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And, as the jeft did glance away from me, 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

Bap. Now, in good fadnefs, fon Petruchio, I think, thou haft the veriest shrew of all.

Pet. Well, I fay, no: and therefore for affurance, Let's each one fend unto his wife;

And he, whofe wife is moft obedient

To come at firft when he doth fend for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
Hor. Content;-what's the wager?
Luc. Twenty crowns.

Pet. Twenty crowns!

I'll venture fo much on my hawk or hound,
But twenty times fo much upon my wife.
Luc. A hundred then.

Hor. Content.

Pet. A match; 'tis done.

Hor. Who fhall begin?

Luc. That will I.

Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

Bion. I go.

[Exit. Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. Luc. I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.

Re-enter Biondello.

How now, what news?

Bion. Sir, my mistress fends you word That the is bufy, and fhe cannot come.

Pet. How! fhe's bufy, and cannot come!

Is that an anfwer?

Gre. Ay, and a kind one too :

Pray God, fir, your wife fend you not a worse.
Pet. I hope better.

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go and intreat my wife to

come to me forthwith.

Pet. Oh, ho! intreat her!

Nay, then the needs must come.

[Exit Biondello.

VOL. III.

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