Lucentio.
Tranio, since—for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,—
I am arriv'd in fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy;
And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd
With his good will, and thy good company,
My trusty servant, well approv'd in all;
Here let us breathe, and happ'ly institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being; and my father first,
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
Lucentio his son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become, to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply, that treats of happiness
By virtue 'specially to be atchiev'd.
Tell me thy mind: for I have Pisa left,
And am to Padua come; as he that leaves
A shallow plash, to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.

Tra.
Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,
I am in all affected as yourself;
Glad that you thus continue your resolve,
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue, and this moral discipline,
Let's be no stoicks, nor no stocks, I pray;
Or so devote to Aristotle's checks,
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd:

Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
Music, and poesy, use to quicken you;
The mathematics, and the metaphysics,
Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you;
No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en;—
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Luc.
Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness;
And take a lodging, fit to entertain
Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay a while; What company is this?

Tra.
Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter, at a Distance, Baptista; Catharine, and Bianca, his Daughters; Gremio, and Hortensio, Suitors to Bianca.

Bap.
Gentlemen both, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am resolv'd you know;
That is,—not to bestow my youngest daughter,
Before I have a husband for the elder:
If either of you both love Catherina,
Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

Gre.
To cart her rather: she's too rough for me;—
There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

Cat.
I pray you. sir, [To Bap.] is it your will and pleasure,
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

Hor.
Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you,
Unless you were of gentler milder mold.

Cat.
I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
I wis, it is not half way to her heart:
But, if it were, doubt not, her care should be,
To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool* ^note.

Hor.
From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us!

Gre.
And me too, good Lord!

Tra. [Aside.]
Hush, master! here is some good pastime toward;
That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward.

Luc. [Aside.]
But in the other's silence do I see
Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.

Tra. [Aside.]
Why, well said, master; mum, and gaze your fill.

Bap.
Well, gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said,—Bianca, get you in:
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca;
For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.

Cat.
A pretty peat! 'tis best,
Put finger in the eye,—an she knew why.

Bia.
Sister, content you in my discontent.—
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
My books, and instruments, shall be my company;
On them to look, and practise by myself.

Luc. [Aside.]
Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak.

Hor.
Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I, that our good will effects
Bianca's grief.

Gre.
Why, will you mew her up,
Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell† ^note,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?

Bap.
Content ye, gentlemen; I am resolv'd:—
Go in, Bianca.— [Exit Bianca.
And for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth:—If you, Hortensio,—
Or, signior Gremio, you,—know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing-up;

And so farewel.—Catherina, you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit Baptista.

Cat.
Why, and, I trust, I may go too, May I not?
What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike,
I knew not what to take, and what to leave? ha! [Exit Catherine.

Gre.

You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good, here's none will hold you.—Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewel:—Yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man, to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.

Hor.

So will I, signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd parly, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both,— that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love,—to labour and effect one thing 'specially.

Gre.

What's that, I pray?

Hor.

Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.

Gre.

A husband! a devil.

Hor.

I say, a husband.

Gre.

I say, a devil: think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be marry'd to hell?

Hor.

Tush, Gremio! though it pass your patience, and mine, to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough.

Gre.

I cannot tell: but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition,—to be whipt at the high cross every morning.

Hor.

'Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintain'd,—'till by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to't afresh.—Sweet Bianca!—Happy man be his dole!—He

that runs fastest, gets the ring.—How say you, signior Gremio?

Gre.

I am agreed; and 'would I had given him the best horse in Padua, to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on.