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 villainy.

[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 Out of hope of all,--but my share of the feast.



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.


7 My cake is dough:] A phrase generally used when any project miscarried, or rather when any disappointment was sustained, contrary to every appearance or expectation.


A Room in Lucentio's House.

A Banquet set out. Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO,

GREMIO, the Pedant, LucentIO, BIANCA, PE-
dow. Tranio, BIONDELLO, GRUMIO, and Others,
Luc. At last, though long, our jarring notes

And time it is, when raging war is done,
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

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



: My banquet A banquet, or (as it is called in some of our old books,) an after past, was a slight refection, like our modern desert, consisting of cakes, sweetmeats, and fruit.

fears his widow.) To fear, as has been already observed, meant in our author's time both to dread, and to intimidate. The widow understands the word in the latter sense; and Petruchio tells he us it in the former. MALONE. VOL. III.



Wid. Then never trust me if I be afeard.
Pet. You are sensible, and yet you miss my

I mean, Hortensio is afeard of

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

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. -

Right, I mean you.
Kath. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.
· Pet. To her, Kate!
Hor. To her, widow !
Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her

down. Hor. That's my office, Pet. Spoke like an officer:-Ha’ 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 bitter 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 grey

hound, 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 galld 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 assu-

Let's each one send unto his 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?

Twenty crowns. Pet. Twenty crowns!


that gird,] A gird is a sarcasm, a gibe.

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

Luc. A hundred then.


A match; 'tis done.
Hor. Who shall begin?

That will I. Go,
Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
Bion. I go.

[Exit. Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. Luc. I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.


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How now! what news?
Sir, my mistress sends


word That she is busy, and she cannot come.

Pét. How! she is busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?

Ay, and a kind one too:
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

Pet. I hope, better.

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.


Re-enter BIONDELLO, Now where's


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!

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