Or I fhall fo be-mete thee with thy yard, As thou shall think on prating whilst thou liv'ft: Tay. Your worship is deceiv'd, the gown is made juft as my mafter had direction; Grumio gave orders how it fhould be done. Grum. I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff. Tay. But how did you defire it fhould be made? Grum. Marry, Sir, with a needle and thread. Tay. But did not thou request to have it cut? Grum. Tho' thou haft fac'd many things, face not me: I fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo, thou lieft. Tay. Why, here is the note of the fashion to teftify. Pet. Read it. Tay. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown. Grum. Mafter, if ever I faid a loofe-bodied gown, few me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said a gown. Pet. Proceed. Tay. With a fmall compafs-cape. Grum. I confefs the cape. Tay. With a trunk fleeve. Grum. Error i' the bill, Sir; error i' th' bill; I commanded the fleeves fhould be cut out and few'd upon again; and that I'll prove upon thee, tho' thy little finger be arm'd in a thimble. Tay. This is true that I fay; an' I had thee in a place, thou fhould't know it. Grum. I am for thee, ftraight; come on, you parchment fhred! [They fight. Pet. What, chickens fpar in prefence of the kite! I'll fwoop upon you both; out, out, ye vermin. [Beats 'em off. Cath. For heav'n's fake, Sir, have patience! how you fright me! [Crying. Pet. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's, Even in these honeft, mean habiliments: Our purses fhall be proud, our garments poor; VOL. III. D d For For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich; Cath. O happy hearing,! Let us ftraight be gone; I cannot tarry here another day. Pet. Cannot, my Kate! O fie! indeed you canBefides, on fecond thoughts, 'tis now too late; For, look, how bright and goodly fhines the moon. Cath. The moon! the fun; it is not moonn-light now. Pet. I fay it is the moon that shines so bright. Cath. I fay it is the fun that shines fo bright. Pet. Now, by my mother's fon, and that's myself; It fhall be moon, or star, or what I lift, Or e'er I journey to your father's house: Go on, and fetch our horfes back again. Evermore croft, and craft; nothing but croft! Grum. Say as he fays, or we shall never go. Cath. I fee 'tis vain to ftruggle with my bonds; So be it moon, or fun, or what you please: And if you pleafe to call it a rufh-candle, Henceforth, I vow, it shall be so for me. Pet. I fay it is the moon. Cath. I know it is the moon. Pet. Nay, then you lie; it is the bleffed fun. Pet. Well, forward, forward: Thus the bowl fhall run, But But foft, fome company is coming here, Enter Baptifta, Hortenfio, and Bianca. Cath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and fweet, Whither away, or where is thy abode? Happy the parents of fo 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 ftrange vagary's this? I came to see thee with my fon and daughter. Cath. Indeed I am. I am transform'd to ftone. And, to be fhort, what not, that's fweet and happy. To with and have our will. Pet. Peace, brawler, peace; 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 pass. Grum. (to Bap.) Did I not promife you, Sir, my mafter's discipline would 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 fifter—' Pet. Catharine, I charge thee tell this headstrong 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 fhall 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 those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor! It blots thy beauty, as froft bites the meads; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds fhake 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, Will deign to fip or touch a drop of it. Pet. Nay, learn thou that leffon. -On, on, I say.’ Bapt. Bap. Now fair befal thee, fon Petruchio; The battle's won, and thou canft keep the field. Pet. Oh, fear me not Bap. Then, my new gentle Catharine, Go home with me along, and I will add For thou art changed as thou hadft never been. Petruchio here fhall doff the lordly husband; Cath. Nay, then I'm all unworthy of thy love, • Pet. Good Kate, no more-this is beyond my hopes Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband: • What is the but a foul contending rebel, |