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Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
Away, I say; commend me to thy master. [Exit Tailor.
Pet. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's,
Even in these honest, mean habiliments.
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honor peereth in the meanest habit.
What, is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful ?
Or is the adder better thad the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
0, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture, and mean array.
If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me:
And therefore, frolic; we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner time.
Kath. I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two;
And 'twill be supper time, ere you come there.
Pet. It shall be seven, ere I go to horse ;
Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone.
I will not go to-day: and ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
Hor. Why, so! This gallant will command the sun.
[Exeunt. SCENE IV. Padua. Before Baptista's House. Enter TRANIO, and the Pedant dressed like VINCENTIO. Tra. Sir, this is the house. Please it you that I call ?
Ped. Ay, what else? And, but I be deceived,
Seignior Baptista may remember me,
Near twenty years ago, in Genoa, where
We were lodgers at the Pegasus.
'Tis well; And hold your own, in any case, with such Austerity as ʼlongeth to a father.
Enter BIONDELLO. Ped. I warrant you. But, sir, here comes your boy, 'Twere good he were schooled.
Tra. Fear you not him. Sirrah, Biondello,
Now do your duty thoroughly, I advise you;
Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
Bion. Tut! fear not me.
Tra. But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista ?
Bion. I told him that your father was at Venice; i And that you looked for him this day in Padua.
Tra. Thou’rt a tall fellow; hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista. -Set your countenance, sir.-
Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO.
Seignior Baptista, you are happily met.-
Sir, [To the Pedant.]
This is the gentleman I told you of;
I pray you, stand good father to me now,
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
Ped. Soft, son !
Sir, by your leave: Having come to Padua
To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And,- for the good report I hear of you;
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And she to him,- to stay him not too long,
I am content, in a good father's care,
To have him matched; and, if you please to like
No worse than I, sir,- upon some agreement,
Me shall you find most ready and most willing
With one consent to have her so bestowed;
For curious I cannot be with you,
Seignior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say.-
Your plainness, and your shortness, please me well.
Right true it is, your son Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,
Or both dissemble deeply their affections;
And, therefore, if you say no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him,
And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
The match is fully made, and all is done :
Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
Tra. I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best,
We be affied; and such assurance ta’en,
As shall with either part's agreement stand ?
Bap. Not in my house, Lucentio; for you know, Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants.
Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still ;
And, happily, we might be interrupted.
Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, sir.
There doth my father lie; and there, this night,
We'll pass the business privately and well.
Send for your daughter by your servant here;
My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
The worst is this,—that, at so slender warning,
You're like to have a thin and slender pittance.
Bap. It likes me well. — Cambio, hie you home,
And bid Bianca make her ready straight.
And, if you will, tell what hath happened;
Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua,
And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.
Luc. I pray the gods she may, with all my heart !
Tra. Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
Seignior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer.
Come, sir; we'll better it in Pisa.
I follow you.
: [Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA.
What say’st thou, Biondello? Bion. You saw my master wink and laugh upon you ? Luuc. Biondello, what of that?
Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but he has left me here behind, to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.
Bion. Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
Luc. And what of him?
Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
Luc. And then ?
Bion. The old priest at St. Luke's church is at your command at all hours.
Luc. And what of all this
Bion. I cannot tell; except they are busied about a counterfeit assurance. Take you assurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum, to the church ;— take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewell forever and a day. [Going.
Luc. Hear'st thou, Biondello?
Bion. I cannot tarry. I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so may you, sir; and so adieu, sir. My master
hath appointed me to go to Saint Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix.
[Exit. Luc. I may, and will, if she be so contented. She will be pleased, then wherefore should I doubt? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her. It shall go hard, if Cambio go without her. [Exit.
SCENE V. A public Road. Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and HORTENSIO. Pet. Come on, o' God's name; once more toward our
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
Kath. The moon! the sun; it is not moonlight now.
Pet. I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
Kath. I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
Pet. Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself,
It shall be moon cr star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house.-
Go on, and fetch our horses back again.-
Evermore crossed, and crossed; nothing but crossed.
Hor. Say as he says, or we shall never go. :
Kath. Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please.
And if you please to call it a rush candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
Pet. I say it is the moon.
I know it is the moon. Pet. Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.
Kath. Then, God be bless’d, it is the blessed sun.
But sun it is not when you say it is not;
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What will you have it named, even that it is;
And so it shall be so, for Katharine.
Hor. Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.
Pet. Well, forward, forward; thus the bowl should run, And not unluckily against the bias.But soft; what company is coming here?
Enter VINCENTIO, in a travelling dress. Good-morrow, gentle mistress. Where away?
[T. VINCENTIO. Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks?
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair, lovely maid, once more good day to thee!
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
Hor. 'A will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
Kath. Young, budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet, Whither away; or where is thy abode ? Happy the parents of so fair a child ! Happier the man whom favorable stars Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
Pet. Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad;
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered ;
And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
Kath. Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
hat have been so bedazzled with the sun,
That every thing I look on seemeth green,
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
Pet. Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known
Which way thou travellest; if along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.
Vin. Fair sir,--and you, my merry mistress, –
That with your strange encounter much amazed me;
My name is called — Vincentio; my dwelling – Pisa;
And bound I am to Padua ; there to visit
A son of mine which long I have not seen.
Pet. What is his name?
Lucentio, gentle sir.
Pet. Happily met; the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee—my loving father ;
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be not grieved; she is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Beside, so qualified as may beseem
The spouse of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio ;
And wander we to see thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
Vin. But is this true? Or is it else your pleasure,
Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
Upon the company you overtake?
Hor. I do assure thee, father, so it is.