But foft, fome company is coming here,

And ftops our journey.

Enter Baptifta, Hortenfio, and Bianca. Good-morrow, gentle mistress, where away? Tell me, fweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Haft thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?

Such war of white and red within her cheeks! • What stars do fpangle heav'n with fuch beauty, 'As those two eyes become that heav'nly face? Fair, lovely maid, once more good day to thee. Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's fake. Bap. What's all this?

Cath. 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.

Bian. What mummery is this?

Pet. Why, how now, Kate; I hope thou art not mad! This is Baptifta, our old reverend father;

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

Cath. Pardon, dear father, my mistaken eyes,
That have been fo bedazzled with the fun,
That every thing I look on feemeth green;
Now I perceive thou art my reverend father:
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

[Kneels.

Bap. Rife, rife, my child; what strange vagary's this? I came to fee thee with my fon and daughter. How lik'st thou wedlock? Art not alter'd, Kate?

Cath. Indeed I am. I am transform'd to ftone. Pet. Chang'd for the better much; ar't not, my Kate? Cath. So good a master, cannot choose but mend me. Hor. Here is a wonder, if you talk of wonders. Bap. And fo it is; I wonder what it bodes? Pet. Marry, peace it bodes; and love, and life, And awful rule, and right fupremacy:

And, to be short, what not, that's fweet and happy.] Bian. Was ever woman's spirit broke so foon? What is the matter, Kate? hold up thy head,

Nor lose our fex's best prerogative,

To wish and have our will

Pet. Peace, brawler, peace;

Dd 2

Or I will give the meek Hortenfio,

Your husband, there, my taming recipe.

Bian. Lord, never let me have a cause to figh, 'Till I be brought to fuch a filly pafs.

• Grum. [to Bap.] Did I not promise you, Sir, my 'master's discipline wou'd work miracles?

Bap. I fcarce believe my eyes and ears.

• Bian. His eyes and ears had felt these fingers ere He fhou'd have moap'd me fo.

Cath.. Alas! my fister-'

Pet. Catharine, I charge thee tell this headftrong

woman,

What duty 'tis fhe owes her lord and husband.

• Bian. Come, come, you're mocking, we will have no 'telling.

Pet. Come on, I fay.

Bian. She shall not.

Hor. Let us hear, for both our fakes, good wife. • Pet. Catharine, begin.'

Cath. Fie, fie, unknit that threatening, unkind brow," And dart not fcornful glances from thofe eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor!

It blots thy beauty, as frofts bite the meads;

• Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; And in no fenfe is meet or amiable.

Pet. Why, well faid, Kate.

Cath. A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-feeming, thick, bereft of beauty;

And while it is fo, none fo dry or thirsty

• Will deign to fip, or touch a drop of it. Bian. Sifter, be quiet

• Pet. Nay, learn thou that leffon

-On, on, I fay.

Cath. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy fovereign: one that cares for thee; And, for thy maintenance, commits his body

To painful labour, both by fea and land,
To watch the night in ftorms, the day in cold,
While thou ly'ft 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 fo great a debt.

Bap.

Bap. Now fair befal thee, fon Petruchio,
The battle's won, and thou can't keep the field.
Pet. Oh! fear me not-

Bap. Then, my new gentle Catharine,
Go home with me along, and I will add
Another dowry to another daughter,

For thou art changed as thou hadst never been.
Pet. My fortune is fufficient. Here's my wealth:
Kifs me, my Kate; and fince thou art become
So prudent, kind, and dutiful a wife,

Petruchio here fhall doff the lordly husband;
An honest mask, which I throw off with pleasure.
Far hence all rudenefs, wilfulness, and noise,
And be our future lives one gentle stream
Of mutual love, compliance, and regard.

Cath. Nay, then I'm all unworthy of thy love, • And look with blushes on my former self.

• Pet. Good Kate, no more-this is beyond my hopes→→→→→ [Goes forward with Catharine in his hand. Such duty as the fubject owes the prince, Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband: And when she's froward, peevish, fullen, four, • And not obedient to his honest will, What is the but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord?" 1 How fhameful 'tis when women are fo fimple To offer war where they should kneel for peace; Or feek for rule, fupremacy, and fway, Where bound to love, to honour, and obey!

Servant, two Chairmen, and a Highland Piper.

SCENE, Padua.

PROLOGUE.

Spoken by Mr KING.

THE bard, whofe hopes on comedy depend,

T Mule ftrive inftruction with delight to blend ;

While he who bounds his lefs afpiring views
To farce, the combrush of the comic muse,
With pleafantry alone may fill the scene-
His bufinefs chicfly this; to cure the spleen,

To

To raife the pensive mind from grave to gay,
And help to laugh a thoughtful hour away.
If any quibbling wit difpute my thefis,
I'd afk the ufe of half our petty pieces?
Nay, Sirs, my question ftill fhall higher climb-
Pray what's the ufe of full-pric'd pantomime?

How does the pleafur'd eye with rapture glance
When mingling witches join in hobbling dance!
When wriggling Harlequin, the magic fage,
In hornpipe amble traverses the stage!

When trembling Pierrot in his quivering fhines,
An oftrich enters, or a ferpent twines!
When headless taylors raife the laughing fit,
Or flour-dredg'd footmen twirl upon a spit!
But oh, how loud the roar, how dear the rumble,
When fcaffolds, mortar boards, and bricklayers tumble
When Clodpate runs or limps, or quaintly rears
From laundrefs tub his anabaptift ears!
While all the wit these exhibitions draw,
Is comprehended in the cry-" O la !”
Our author, in this awful court of Drury,
Submits his caufe to an impartial jury.
No friendly junto he to-night employs,
To catch by favouring hands the public voice:
He founds on British candour all his trust,
Convinc'd a British audience will be juft.

:W

ACT I.

SCENE, A genteel Apartment.

Enter HARWOOD and FRANKLY.

FRANKLY.

Ell, this is the most unexpected vifit-But prithee, Harwood, what, in the name of mystery, ⚫ hath brought thee to town at this unfashionable time of the year?

• Har. The lofs of my fair housekeeper.

• Fran. The lofs of Maria! Is the dead?

Har. Worfe, my dear Frankly-elop'd.

Fran. Elop'd! Why, I thought you had fo great a a regard for each other, that you had been as infeparable as old age and avarice, or a coquette and a looking!glafs.

Har