why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another man's name.

Ped. Lay hands on the villain. I believe, 'a means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance. Re-enter BIONDELLO.

Bion. I have seen them in the church together: God send 'em good shipping!-But who is here? mine old master, Vincentio! now we are undone, and brought to nothing.

Vin. Come hither, crack-hemp. [Seeing BIONDELLO. Bion. I hope I may choose, sir.

Vin. Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?

Bion. Forgot you? no, sir: I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.

Vin. What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master's father, Vincentio?

Bion. What, my old, worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir see where he looks out of the window. Vin. Is't so, indeed? [Beats BIONDELLO. Bion. Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me. [Exit. Ped. Help, son! help, signior Baptista! [Exit, from the window. Pet. Pr'ythee, Kate, let's stand aside, and see the end of this controversy. [They retire. Re-enter Pedant, below: BAPTISTA, TRANIO, and Servants.

Tra. Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my servant? Vin. What am I, sir? nay, what are you, sir?-O, immortal Gods! O, fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat!-O, I am undone! I am undone! while I play the good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.

Tra. How now! what's the matter?
Bap. What, is the man lunatic?

Tra. Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir, what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.

Vin. Thy father? O, villain! he is a sail-maker in Bergamo.

Bap. You mistake, sir: you mistake, sir. Pray, what do you think is his name?

Vin. His name? as if I knew not his name: I have brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.

Ped. Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio ; and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, signior Vincentio.

Vin. Lucentio! O! he hath murdered his master. -Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the duke's name. -O, my son, my son !-tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?

Tra. Call forth an officer.

Enter one, with an Officer.

Carry this mad knave to the jail.-Father Baptista, I charge you see that he be forthcoming. Vin. Carry me to the jail!

Gre. Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison. Bap. Talk not, signior Gremio. I say, he shall go to prison.

Gre. Take heed, signior Baptista, lest you be conycatched in this business. I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.

Ped. Swear, if thou darest.

Gre. Nay, I dare not swear it.

Tra. Then thou wert best say, that I am not Lucentio. Gre. Yes, I know thee to be signior Lucentio.

Right son to the right Vincentio ;
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.

Gre. Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!
Vin. Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?
Bap. Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.
Luc. Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did bear my countenance in the town;
And happily I have arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to;
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.

Vin. I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent me to the jail.

Bap. [To LUCENTIO.] But do you hear, sir? Have you married my daughter without asking my good-will? Vin. Fear not, Baptista; we will content you: go to; but I will in, to be revenged for this villany. [Exit. Bap. And I, to sound the depth of this knavery. [Exit. Luc. Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown. [Exeunt Luc. and BIAN. Gre. My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest, Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast. [Exit.

PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA advance. Kath. Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado. Pet. First kiss me, Kate, and we will. Kath. What, in the midst of the street? Pet. What! art thou ashamed of me? Kath. No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss. Pet. Why, then let's home again.-Come, sirrah, let's away.

Kath. Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.

Pet. Is not this well?-Come, my sweet Kate: Better once than never, for never too late. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-A Room in LUCENTIO's House.

A Banquet set out; Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GRE-
MIO, the Pedant, LUCENTIO, BIANCA, PETRUCHIO,
KATHARINA, HORTENSIO, and Widow. TRANIO,
BIONDELLO, GRUMIO, and others, attending.
Luc. At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
And time it is, when raging war is gone,
To smile at 'scapes and perils overblown.-
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.—
Brother Petruchio,-sister Katharina,-
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
For now we sit to chat, as well as eat. [They sit at table.
Pet. Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
Bap. Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.

Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
Hor. For both our sakes I would that word were true.
Pet. Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
Wid. Then, never trust me, if I be afeard.

Pet. You are very sensible, and yet you miss my

sense:

I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you.

Wid. He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
Pet. Roundly replied.
Kath.

Mistress, how mean you that?
Wid. Thus I conceive by him.
Pet. Conceives by me !-How likes Hortensio that?
Hor. My widow says, thus she conceives her tale.
Pet. Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good
widow.

Kath. He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:

I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe. And now you know my meaning. Kath. A very mean meaning. Wid. Kath. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you. Pet. To her, Kate!

Hor. To her, widow!

Right, I mean you.

Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down. Hor. That's my office.

Pet. Spoke like an officer:-Here's to thee, lad. [Drinks to HORTENSIO. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? Gre. Believe me, sir, they butt together well. Bian. Head and butt? an hasty-witted body Would say, your head and butt were head and horn. Vin. Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you? Bian. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore, I'll sleep again.

Pet. Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun, Have at you for a better jest or two.

Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush, And then pursue me as you draw your bow.You are welcome all.

[Exeunt BIANCA, KATHARINA, and Widow. Pet. She hath prevented me.-Here, signior Tranio; This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not: Therefore, a health to all that shot and miss'd.

Tra. O sir! Lucentio slipp'd me, like his greyhound, Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

Pet. A good swift simile, but something currish. Tra. 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself: 'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay.

Bap. O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now. Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. Hor. Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here? Pet. 'A has a little gall'd me, I confess; And, as the jest did glance away from me, 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

Bap. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,

I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

Pet. Well, I say no: and therefore, for assurance, Let's each one send unto his several wife, And he, whose wife is most obedient To come at first when he doth send for her, Shall win the wager which we will propose. Hor. Content. What is the wager? Luc.

Pet. Twenty crowns!

Twenty crowns.

I'll venture so much of my hawk, or hound, But twenty times so much upon my wife.

Luc. A hundred then.

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 befal 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. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too:
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Cost me one 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. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening 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,
Whilst 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 peace,
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,
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;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming most, which we indeed least are.
Then, vail your stomachs, 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. 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white; [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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS'S

Palace.

Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELena, and LAFEU, all in black.

Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.

Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew; but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.

Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam; -you, sir, a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance.

Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?

Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the losing of hope by time.

Count. This young gentlewoman had a father,-O, that had! how sad a passage 'tis !-whose skill, almost as great as his honesty, had it stretched so far would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of the king's disease.

Laf. How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so- -Gerard de Narbon.

Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam: the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly and mourningly. He was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.

Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? Laf. A fistula, my lord.

Ber. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would it were not notorious.-Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her education promises: her dispositions she inherits, which make fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues and traitors too: in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness.

Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.

Count. "Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek.-No more of this, Helena: go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than to have.

Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed; but I have it too, Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead. excessive grief the enemy to the living.

Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.

Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
Laf. How understand we that?

Count. Be thou blest, Bertram; and succeed thy father

In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue,
Contend for empire in thee; and thy goodness
Share with thy birth-right! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head!-Farewell, my lord:
'Tis an unseason'd courtier: good my lord,
Advise him.