Virtue, and that part of philosophy Glad that you thus continue your resolve Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore, And take a lodging fit to entertain Tra. Master, some show to welcome us to town. There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? Kath. I pray you, sir [To BAPTISTA], is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Gre. And me too, good Lord! Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime toward; That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward. Tra. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill. Kath. A pretty peat! 'tis best Put finger in the eye,—an she knew why. Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent. Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe: My books and instruments shall be my company; On them to look, and practise by myself. Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak. [Aside. Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief. Gre. Why, will you mew her, And make her bear the penance of her tongue? To mine own children in good bringing up; [Exit. Kath. Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike, I knew not what to take, and what to leave? Ha! [Exit. Gre. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here is none will hold Their you. love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell. Yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father. Hor. So will I, Signior Gremio. But a word, I pray though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both-that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love-to labour and effect one thing specially. Gre. What's that, I pray? Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister. Gre. A husband! a devil. Hor. I say, a husband. Gre. I say, a devil. Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell? Hor. Tush, Gremio! though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition,-to be whipped at the high-cross every morning. Hor. 'Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained,-till by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to 't afresh.Sweet Bianca! Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, Signior Gremio? Gre. I am agreed: and 'would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. [Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO. Tra. [advancing]. I pray, sir, tell me is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold? Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now; Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound. Tra. Master, you looked so longly on the maid, Perhaps you marked not what's the pith of all. Luc. O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face, Such as the daughter of Agenor had, That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, When with his knees he kissed the Cretan strand. Tra. Saw you no more? marked you not how her sister Began to scold, and raise up such a storm Luc. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move, And with her breath she did perfume the air; Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her. I Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance. pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid, Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands: Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd, Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! Luc. It is may it be done? Tra. Not possible: for who shall bear your part, And be in Padua here Vincentio's son? Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; Visit his countrymen, and banquet them? Luc. Basta; content thee, for I have it full. We have not yet been seen in any house; Nor can we be distinguished by our faces, For man or master: then it follows thus: Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead, Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should: I will some other be; some Florentine, Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa. 'Tis hatched, and shall be so.-Tranio, at once Uncase thee; take my coloured hat and cloak: When Biondello comes, he waits on thee; But I will charm him first to keep his tongue. Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits. In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is, And I am tied to be obedient (For so your father charged me at our parting; "Be serviceable to my son," quoth he, Although I think 'twas in other sense), I am content to be Lucentio, Because so well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid Whose sudden sight hath thralled my wounded eye. Enter BIONDELLO. Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes? Or you stolen his? or both? Pray, what's the news? Luc. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest, And therefore frame your manners to the time. Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life, Puts my apparel and my countenance on, And I for my escape have put on his; For in a quarrel, since I came ashore, I killed a man, and fear I was descried: Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes, While I make way from hence to save my life: You understand me? You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies: When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; One thing more rests, that thyself execute; [The Presenters above speak. 1st Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely comes there any more of it? Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. Would't were done!] |