Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go, and entreat my wife To come to me forthwith. [Exit BIONDELLO. Pet. O, ho! entreat her!

Nay, then she must needs come.

Hor.

I am afraid, sir,

Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.

Now where's

Re-enter BION dello.

my

wife?

Bion. She says, you have some goodly jest in hand; She will not come; she bids you come to her.

Pet. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile, Intolerable, not to be endur'd!

Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress;

Say, I command her come to me.

Hor. I know her answer.

Pet.

Hor.

[Exit GRUMIO.

What?

She will not.

Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.

Enter KATHARINA.

Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!

Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send for me? Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire.

Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to come, Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands: Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.

[Exit KATHARINA.

Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
Hor. And so it is; I wonder what it bodes.
Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet
life,

An awful rule, and right supremacy;

And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy.
Bap. Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager
better yet;
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.

Re-enter KATHARINA, with BIANCA, and Widow.
See, where she comes; and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion. -
Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.

[KATHARINA pulls off her cap, and throws
it down.

Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a silly pass!

Bian. Fye! what a foolish duty call you this? Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too: The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,

Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time. Bian. The more fool you for laying on my duty. Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women

What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.

Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her. Wid. She shall not.

Pet. I say, she shall;-and first begin with her, Kath. Fye, fye! unknit that threat'ning unkind brow;

And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,

To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor :
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ;
And in no sense is meet or amiable.

A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;—
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband:
And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And, not obedient to his honest will,
What is she, but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?—
I am asham'd, that women are so simple
To offer war, where they should kneel for
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world;

peace;

But that our soft conditions and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great; my reason, haply, more,
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown:
7 That is, the gentle qualities of our minds.

But now,

I see, our lances are but straws; Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,That seeming to be most, which we least are. Then vail your stomachs3, for it is no boot; And place your hands below your husband's foot: In token of which duty, if he please,

My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Pet. Why, there's a wench!-Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt

ha't.

Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward. Luc. But a harsh hearing when women are froward. Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed:

We three are married, but you two are sped 9. 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white 10; [To LUCENTIO.

And, being a winner, God give you good night! [Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATH. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curst

shrew.

Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be

tam'd so.

8 Vail your stomachs,' abate your pride, your boot, i. e. it is profitless, it is no advantage. Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1:

[Exeunt 11.

spirit, it is no Thus in King

'Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there is no boot.'

9 i. e. the fate of you both is decided; for you both have wives who exhibit early proofs of disobedience.

10 The white was the central part of the mark or butt in archery. Here is also a play upon the name of Bianca, which is white in Italian.

11 The old play continues thus :

Then enter two, bearing SLIE in his own apparel againe, and leaves him where they found him, and then goes out: then enters the Tapster.

Tapster. Now that the darksome night is overpast,

And dawning day appeares in christall skie,

Now must I haste abroade: but softe! who's this?
What, Slie? O wondrous? hath he laine heere all night!
Ile wake him; I thinke he's starved by this,

But that his belly was so stufft with ale:

What now,

Slie? awake for shame.

Slie. [Awaking.] Sim, give's more wine.-What all the players gone?-Am I not a lord?

Tap. A lord, with a murrain?-Come, art thou drunk still? Slie. Who's this? Tapster!-Oh I have had the bravest dream that ever thou heard'st in all thy life.

Tap. Yea, marry, but thou hadst best get thee home, for your wife will curse you for dreaming here all night.

Slie. Will she? I know how to tame a shrew. I dreamt upon it all this night, and thou hast wak'd me out of the best dream that ever I had; but I'll to my wife, and tame her too, if she anger me.

Of this play the two plots are so well united that they can hardly be called two, without injury to the art with which they are interwoven. The attention is entertained with all the variety of a double plot, yet is not distracted by unconnected incidents.

The part between Katharina and Petruchio is eminently spritely and diverting. At the marriage of Bianca the arrival of the real father, perhaps, produces more perplexity than pleaThe whole play is very popular and diverting.

sure.

JOHNSON.

END OF VOL. III.

C. and C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick.