Sir, by your leave; having come to Padua To have him match'd; and,-if you please to like 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 fully made, and all is done: Your son shall have my daughter with consent. best, We be affied; and such assurance ta'en, As shall with either part's agreement stand? Bap. Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know, Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants : Besides, old Gremio is heark'ning still; Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, sir: Bap. It likes me well:-Cambio, hie you home, 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: 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 deceiving 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 saint Luke's church is at your command at all hours. Luc. And what of all this? Bion. I cannot tell; except 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. Lac. Hear'st thou, Biondello? [Going. 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 saint 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 bap may, I'll roundly go about her; It shall go hard, if Cambio go without her. [Exit. SCENE V. A publick 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 crost, and crost; nothing but crost! 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: And 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. 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. run, And not unluckily against the bias. But soft; what company is coming here? Enter VINCENTIO, in a travelling dress. Good-morrow, gentle mistress: Where away?[To Vincentio. Tell 60 me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, 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, |