Now do your duty throughly, I advise you :
Imagine 't were 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, And that you look'd 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.

Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
Sir, 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 match'd; and, if you please to like
No worse than I, upon some agreement,
Me shall you find ready and willing

With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior 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 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,
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:
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.

you

The worst is this, that, at so slender warning.
You're like to have a thin and slender pittance.

know,

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 arriv'd 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.

Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?

Welcome: one mess is like to be your cheer.

Come, Sir; we will better it in Pisa.

Bap. I follow you.

[Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA.

Luc. What say'st thou, Biondello?

Bion. You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?

Luc. 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 decei

ving 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.

Bion. I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum solùm. 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 for ever and a day.

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 St. 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 pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:

[Exit.

It shall go hard, if Cambio go without her.

SCENE V.

A public Road.

Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and HORTENSIO.

Pet. Come on, o' God's name: once more toward our father's. 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, or star, or what I list,

Or ere I journey to your father's house.

Go on, and fetch our horses back again.—
Evermore cross'd, and cross'd; nothing but cross'd.

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.
An 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.

Kath.

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 you will have it nam'd, 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! company is coming here.

Enter VINCENTIO, in a travelling dress.

[TO VINCENTIO.] Good-morrow, gentle mistress: where away?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 favourable 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, wither'd,

And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.

Kath. Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,

That 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 amaz'd me,
My name is call'd 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?

Vin.

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 griev'd: 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?

Pet. Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;

Hor. I do assure thee, father, so it is.

For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.

Hor. Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.

Have to my widow; and if she be froward,

Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and VINCENTIO.

[Exit,