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George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
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SCENE VI.

Gre.
Was ever match clapt up so suddenly?

Bap.
Faith, gentlemen, I play a merchant's part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.

Tra.
'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Bap.
The gain I seek, is quiet in the match.

Gre.
No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch:
But now Baptista, to your younger daughter,
Now is the day we long have looked for:
I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

Tra.
And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess.

Gre.
Youngling! thou canst not love so dear as I.

Tra.
Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.

Gre.
But thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.

Tra.
But youth in ladies eyes that flourisheth.

Bap.
Content you gentlemen, I will compound this strife;
'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
That can assure my daughter greatest dower,
Shall have Bianca's love.
Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?

Gre.
First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
Basons and ewers to lave her dainty hands:
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stuft my crowns;

-- 314 --


In cypress chests my arras, counterpanes,
Costly apparel, tents and canopies,
Fine linnen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl;
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work;
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or house-keeping: then at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls;
And all things answerable to this portion.
My self am struck in years, I must confess,
And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If whilst I live she will be only mine.

Tra.
That only came well in. Sir, list to me;
I am my father's heir, and only son;
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land; all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?

Gre.
Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
My land amounts not to so much in all:
That she shall have, besides an Argosie
That now is lying in Marseilles's road.
What, have I choakt you with an Argosie?

Tra.
Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
Than three great Argosies, besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight gallies; these I will assure her,
And twice as much, what e'er thou offer'st next.

Gre.
Nay, I have offer'd all; I have no more;
And she can have no more than all I have;

-- 315 --


If you like me, she shall have me and mine.

Tra.
Why then the maid is mine from all the world,
By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied.

Bap.
I must confess your offer is the best;
And let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own, else you must pardon me:
If you should die before him, where's her dower?

Tra.
That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.

Gre.
And may not young men die as well as old?

Bap.
Well, gentlemen, then I am thus resolv'd:
On Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katharine is to be married:
Now on the Sunday following shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio:
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
[Exit.

Gre.
Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee not:
Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all; and in his waining age
Set foot under thy table: tut! a toy!
And old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
[Exit.

Tra.
A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide,
Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten:
'Tis in my head to do my master good?
I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio
May get a father, call'd suppos'd Vincentio;
And that's a wonder: fathers commonly

Do get their children; but in this case of wooing, a child shall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning.

[Exit. [Sly speaks to one of the servants. Sly.

Sim. when will the fool come again?

Sim,

Anon, my lord.

-- 316 --

Sly.

Gives's some more drink here—where's the tapster? here Sim, eat some of these things.

Sim.

So I do, my Lord.

Sly.

Here Sim, I drink to thee.

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George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
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