Biondello.
Gre.
I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
-- 189 --
Enter Petruchio, Katharina, Vincentio, and Attendants.
Pet.
Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house:
My father's bears more toward the market-place;
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
Vin.
You shall not choose but drink before you go.
I think, I shall command your welcome here,
And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.
[Knocks.
Gre.
They're busy within; you were best knock
louder.
Enter Pedant above, at a window.
Ped.
What's he, that knocks as he would beat down
the gate?
Vin.
Is signior Lucentio within, sir?
Ped.
He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
Vin.
What, if a man bring him a hundred pound or
two to make merry withal?
Ped.
Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he
shall need none, so long as I live.
Pet.
Nay, I told you, your son was beloved in Padua.
—Do you hear, sir? to leave frivolous circumstances,
I pray you, tell signior Lucentio, that his father is come
from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.
Ped.
Thou liest: his father is come from Pisa1 note, and
here looking out at the window.
Vin.
Art thou his father?
Ped.
Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe
her.
Pet.
Why, how now, gentleman! [To Vincen.]
why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another
man's name.
Ped.
Lay hands on the villain. I believe, 'a means
to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
-- 190 --
Re-enter Biondello.
Bion.
I have seen them in the church together:
God send 'em good shipping!—But who is here? mine
old master, Vincentio! now we are undone, and brought
to nothing.
Vin.
Come hither, crack-hemp2 note
.
[Seeing Biondello.
Bion.
I hope I may choose, sir.
Vin.
Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot
me?
Bion.
Forgot you? no, sir: I could not forget you,
for I never saw you before in all my life.
Vin.
What, you notorious villain, didst thou never
see thy master's father, Vincentio?
Bion.
What, my old, worshipful old master? yes,
marry, sir: see where he looks out of the window.
Vin.
Is't so, indeed?
[Beats Biondello.
Bion.
Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder
me.
[Exit.
Ped.
Help, son! help, signior Baptista!
[Exit, from the window.
Pet.
Pr'ythee, Kate, let's stand aside, and see the
end of this controversy.
[They retire.
Re-enter Pedant below; Baptista, Tranio, and Servants.
Tra.
Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my servant?
Vin.
What am I, sir? nay, what are you, sir?—O,
immortal gods! O, fine villain! A silken doublet! a
-- 191 --
velvet hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat3 note!—O,
I am undone! I am undone! while I play the good
husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at
the university.
Tra.
How now! what's the matter?
Bap.
What, is the man lunatic?
Tra.
Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by
your habit, but your words show you a madman. Why,
sir, what 'cerns it you4 note if I wear pearl and gold? I
thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
Vin.
Thy father? O, villain! he is a sail-maker in
Bergamo.
Bap.
You mistake, sir: you mistake, sir. Pray, what
do you think is his name?
Vin.
His name? as if I knew not his name: I have
brought him up ever since he was three years old, and
his name is Tranio.
Ped.
Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio;
and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me,
signior Vincentio.
Vin.
Lucentio! O! he hath murdered his master.—
Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the duke's name.—
O, my son, my son!—tell me, thou villain, where is my
son Lucentio?
Tra.
Call forth an officer.
Enter one with an Officer.
Carry this mad knave to the jail.—Father Baptista, I
charge you see that he be forthcoming.
Vin.
Carry me to the jail!
Gre.
Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.
Bap.
Talk not, signior Gremio. I say, he shall go to
prison.
-- 192 --
Gre.
Take heed, signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched5 note
in this business. I dare swear this is the right
Vincentio.
Ped.
Swear, if thou darest.
Gre.
Nay, I dare not swear it.
Tra.
Then thou wert best say, that I am not Lucentio.
Gre.
Yes, I know thee to be signior Lucentio.
Bap.
Away with the dotard! to the jail with him!
Vin.
Thus strangers may be haled and abused. 11Q0392—O,
monstrous villain!
Re-enter Biondello with Lucentio, and Bianca.
Bion.
O, we are spoiled! and yonder he is: deny
him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.
Luc.
Pardon, sweet father.
[Kneeling.
Vin.
Lives my sweet son6 note?
[Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant run out7 note.
Bian.
Pardon, dear father.
[Kneeling.
Bap.
How hast thou offended?—
Where is Lucentio?
Luc.
Here's Lucentio,
Right son to the right Vincentio;
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne8 note.
Gre.
Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us
all!
Vin.
Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?
Bap.
Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
Bian.
Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.
Luc.
Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
-- 193 --
Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did bear my countenance in the town;
And happily I have arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to,
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
Vin.
I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent
me to the jail.
Bap. [To Lucentio.]
But do you hear, sir? Have
you married my daughter without asking my goodwill?
Vin.
Fear not, Baptista; we will content you: go
to; but I will in, to be revenged for this villany.
[Exit.
Bap.
And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.
[Exit.
Luc.
Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
[Exeunt Luc. and Bian.
Gre.
My cake is dough9 note; but I'll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.
[Exit.
Petruchio and Katharina advance.
Kath.
Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.
Pet.
First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
Kath.
What, in the midst of the street?
Pet.
What! art thou ashamed of me?
Kath.
No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
Pet.
Why, then let's home again.—Come, sirrah, let's away.
Kath.
Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.
Pet.
Is not this well?—Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late.
[Exeunt.
-- 194 --
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
