Gru. Catharine the curft? A title for a maid of all titles the worst! Hor. Now fhall my Friend Petruchio do me grace, And offer me difguis'd in fober robes. To old Baptifta as a fchool-mafter, Well feen in mufick, to inftru&t Bianca; Enter Gremio, and Lucentio difguis'd. Gru. Here's no knavery! fee, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Mafter, look about you: who goes there? ha! Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the Rival of my love. Gru. A proper Stripling, and an amorous —— I'll mend it with a largefs. Take your papers too, To whom they go; what will you read to her? ! Hor. Hor. Grumio, mum! God fave you. Signior Gremio. Gre. And you are wellmet, Signior Hortenfio. Trow you, whither I am going? to Baptifta Minola; I promis'd to enquire carefully about a school-master for the fair Bianca; and by good fortune I have lighted well on this young man, for Learning and Behaviour fit for her turn, well read in Poetry, and other books; good ones, I warrant ye. Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman, A fine musician to inftruct our mistress; Gre. Belov'd of me,—and that my deeds fhall prove. Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love. Hortenfio, have you told him all her faults? Gre. No, fayeft me fo, friend? what Countryman? My father's dead, my fortune lives for me, Gre. Oh, Sir, fuch a life with fuch a wife were ftrange; But will you wooe this wild cat? Pet. Will I live? Gru. Will he wooe her? ay, or I'll hang her. Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent? Think you, a little din can daunt my ears? Have Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Loud larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clangue? That gives not half fo great a blow to th' ear Tush, tush, fear boys with bugs. Gru. For he fears none. Gre. Hortenfio, hark: This Gentleman is happily arriv'd, My mind prefumes, for his own good, and ours. Gre. And fo we will, provided that he win her. SCENE VII. To them Tranio bravely apparell'd, and Biondello. Tra. Gentlemen, God fave you. If I may be bold, tell me, I beseech you, which is the readieft way to the house of Signior Baptifta Minola? Bion. He, that has the two fair daughters? is't he you mean? Tra. Even he, Biondello. Gre. Hark you, Sir, you mean not her, to Tra. Perhaps, him and her; what have you to do? Pet. Not her that chides, Sir, at any hand, I pray. 3 That gives not half fo great a blow to HEAR,] This aukward phrase could never come from Shakespeare, He wrote, without queftion, -fo great a blow to TH'EAR. WARBURTON. Tra. I love no chiders, Sir: Biondello, let's away. Luc. Well begun, Tranio. Hor. Sir, a word, ere you go: Are you a fuitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no? Tra. An if I be, Sir, is it any offence? Gre. No; if without more words you will get you hence. Tra. Why, Sir, I pray, are not the streets as free For me, as for you? Gre. But fo is not she. Tra. For what reafon, I befeech you? To whom my Father is not all unknown; Gre. What, this Gentleman will out-talk us all! Tra. No, Sir; but hear I do, that he hath two: Pet. Sir, Sir, the firft's for me; let her go by. Pet. Sir, understand you this of me, infooth: The youngest Daughter, whom you hearken for, Her father keeps from all access of suitors, And And will not promise her to any man, Tra. If it be fo, Sir, that you are the man Hor. Sir, you fay well, and well you do conceive, Tra. Sir, I fhall not be flack, in fign whereof, Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. Gru. Bion. O excellent motion! fellows, let's be gone. Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it fo, Petruchio, I fhall be your ben venuto. [Exeunt. [The Prefenters, above, fpeak bere. 1 Man. My Lord, you rod; you do not mind the Play. Sly. Yea, by St. Ann, do I. A good matter, furely ! comes there any more of it? Lady. My Lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, Madam Lady. 'Would, 'twere done!- 4 Please ye, we may contrive this afternoon,] Mr Theobald afks what they were to contrive? and then fays, a fool corruption poffeffes the place, and fo alters it to convive; in which he is followed, as he pretty conftantly is, when wrong, by the Oxford Editor. But the common reading is right, and the Critic was only ignorant of the meaning of it Contrive does not fignify here to projec, but to spend and wear out. As in this pailage of Sperfer, Three ages fuch as mortal men CONTRIVE Fairy Queen, B xi. ch. 9. WARBURTON. The word is ufed in the fame fenfe of Spending or wearing out, in the Palace of Pleasure. ACT |