Kath. If that be jest, then all the rest was so. [Strikes her. Enter BAPTISTA. Bap. Why, how now, dame! whence grows this in solence? Bianca, stand aside;-poor girl! she weeps :- Why dost thou wrong her, that did ne'er wrong thee? Kath. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd. [Flies after BIANCA. Bap. What, in my sight?-Bianca, get thee in. Kath. Will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see, [Exit KATHARINA. Bap. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I ? But who comes here? Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man; PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a Musician; and TRANIO, with BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books. Gre. Good-morrow, neighbour Baptista. Bap. Good-morrow, neighbour Gremio: God save you, gentlemen! Pet. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daugh ter Call'd Katharina, fair, and virtuous ? Bap. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katharina. Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly. Pet. You wrong me, signior Gremio; give me leave. I am a gentleman of Verona, sir, That, hearing of her beauty, and her wit, Her affability, and bashful modesty, Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour, Am bold to show myself a forward guest Within your house, to make mine eye the witness And, for an entrance to my entertainment, [Presenting HORTENSIO. Cunning in musick, and the mathematicks, To instruct her fully in those sciences, Accept of him, or else you do me wrong; His name is Licio, born in Mantua. Bap. You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake: But for my daughter Katharine, this I know, She is not for your turn, the more my grief. Pet. I see, you do not mean to part with her; Or else you like not of my company. Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name? Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his sake. Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too : Baccare! you are marvellous forward. Pet. O, pardon me, signior Gremio ; I would fain be doing. Gre. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, I freely give unto you this young scholar, [Presenting LUCENTIO.] that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in musick and mathematicks: his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service. Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio : welcome, good Cambio.-But, gentle sir, [TO TRANIO.] methinks, you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming? Tra. Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own; Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, And, toward the education of your daughters, I here bestow a simple instrument, And this small packet of Greek and Latin books: If you accept them, then their worth is great. Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray ? Tra. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio. Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report I know him well: you are very welcome, sir. Take you [To HoR.] the lute, and you [To Luc.] the set of books, You shall go see your pupils presently. Sirrah, lead Enter a Servant. These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them both, These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit Servant, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO. We will go walk a little in the orchard, And then to dinner: You are passing welcome, And so I pray you all to think yourselves. Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, And every day I cannot come to woo. In all my lands and leases whatsoever : Bap. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, This is, her love; for that is all in all. Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together, They do consume the thing that feeds their fury : Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all : So I to her, and so she yields to me; For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed! But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. Pet. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds, That shake not, though they blow perpetually. Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale? Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. cian? Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? I did but tell her, she mistook her frets, |