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Hor. You may go walk, [to LUCENTIO,] and give

me leave awhile;
My lessons make no musick in three parts.

Luc. Are you so formal, sir ? well, I must wait,
And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd',
Our fine musician groweth amorous.

[A side.
Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
Bian. [reads.] Gamut I am, the ground of all accord,

A re, to plead Hortensio's passion;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,

C faut, that loves with all affection :
D sol re, one clif, two notes have I ;

E la mi, show pity, or I die.
Call you this gamut? tut! I like it not :
Old fashions please me best ; I am not so nice,
To change true rules for odd inventions.

Enter a Servant. Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your

books, And help to dress your sister's chamber up; You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day. Bian. Farewell, sweet masters, both ; I must be gone.

[Exeunt BIANCA and Servant. Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.

[Exit. Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks, he looks as though he were in love :


But, i. e. unless.

but I be deceivd,]

Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble,
To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale,
Seize thee, that list: If once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Erit.


The same. Before Baptista's House.


BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants. Bap. Signior Lucentio, [to Tranio,] this is the

'pointed day
That Katharine and Petruchio should be married,
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law:
What will be said ? what mockery will it be,
To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage ?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours ?
Kath. No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be

To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen’;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:
And, to be noted for a merry man,
He'll woo a thousand, ʼpoint the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes t, and proclaim the banns ;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo’d.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say,-Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.

? — full of spleen ;] That is, full of humour, caprice, and inconstancy. JOHNSON.

+ Mr. Malone reads, “invite thein, and,” &c.

Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too; Upon my life, Petruchio means but well, Whatever fortune stays him from his word: Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise ; Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest. Kath. 'Would Katharine had never seen him though!

[Exit, weeping, followed by Bianca, and others. Bap. Go, girl ; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For such an injury would vex a saint t, Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.


Bion. Master, master! news, old news, and such news as you never heard of!

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Bion. Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming ?

Bap. Is he come ?
Bion. Why, no, sir.
Bap. What then?
Bion. He is coming.
Bap. When will he be here?
Bion. When he stands where I am, and sees you

Tra. But, say, what:—To thine old news.

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and an old jerkin ; a pair of old breeches, thrice turned ; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced ; an old rusty sword ta’en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points': His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred: besides, possessed with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with the

+ “vex a very saint," — Malone. 3 — two broken points :] i. e. two broken tags to the laces.

fashions, full of wind-galls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er legged before ', and with a half-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repair'd with knots: one girt six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure o, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him ?

Bion. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse ; with a linen stock' on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies pricked in't for a feather 8: a monster, a very monster in apparel ; and not like a christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey. Tra. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this

fashion -
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell’d.

Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he comes.
Bion. Why, sir, he comes not.
Bap. Didst thou not say, he comes ?

*— infected with the fashions, — past cure of the fives,] Fashions. So called in the West of England, but by the best writers on farriery, farce ns or farcy. Fives. So called in the West : vives elsewhere, and avives by the French ; a distemper in horses, little differing from the strangles. GREY.

6 — ne'er legged before,] i. e. founder'd in his fore-feet. 6 — crupper of velure,] Velure is velvet. Velours, Fr. 7 -- stock — ] i. e. stocking.

8 — an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies pricked in't for a feather :) This was some ballad or drollery at that time, which the poet here ridicules, by making Petruchio prick it up in his foot-boy's hat for a feather. His speakers are perpetually quoting scraps and stanzas of old ballads, and often very obscurely; for, so well are they adapted to the occasion, that they seem of a piece with the rest. WARBURTON.

Bion. Who? that Petruchio came ?
Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, sir; I say, his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.

Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO. Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home ? Bap. You are welcome, sir. Pet.

And yet I come not well. Bap. And yet you halt not. Tra.

Not so well apparell’d As I wish you were.

Pet. Were it better I should rush in thus. But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride ?How does my father ?—Gentles, methinks you frown: And wherefore gaze this goodly company ; As if they saw some wondrous monument, Some comet, or unusual prodigy ?

Bap. Why, sir, you know, this is your wedding-day: First were we sad, fearing you would not come ; Now sadder, that you come so unprovided. Fye! doff this habit, shame to your estate, An eye-sore to our solemn festival.

Tra. And tell us, what occasion of import
Hath all so long detain’d you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear :
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
Though in some part enforced to digress;
Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
As you shall well be satisfied withal.
But, where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church:

9- to digress ;) To deviate from my promise.

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