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To strive for that which resteth in
choice: I am no breeching scholar+ in the schools; I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself. And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down :Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd. Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
[To BIANCA.-HORTENSIO retires. Luc. That will be never;-tune your instrument. Bian. Where left we last?
Luc. Here, madam :
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,-Simois, I am Lucentio,hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love ;-Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio,--regia, bearing my port, -celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.5 Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune.
[Returning Bian. Let's hear;
[HORTENSI0 plays. O fye! the treble jars.
Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Has abat Simois, I know you not; hic est Segeia tellus, I trust you not;—Hic steterat Priami, take heed he
4 No school-boy, liable to be whipt.
3 The old cully in Italian farces.
hear us not;-regia, presume not;-celsa senis, despair not.
Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
All but the base. Hor. The base is right; 'tis the base knave that
jars. How fiery and forward our pedant is! Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love; Pedascule,6 I'll watch you better yet.
Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, Æacides Was Ajax,_call’d so from his grandfather. Bian. I must believe my master ; else, I promise
you, I should be arguing still upon that doubt : But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleasant with you both, Hor. You may go walk, [TQ LUCENTIO.] and
give me leave awhile; My lessons make no music in three parts.
Luc. Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait, And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd, Our fine musician groweth amorous. [Aside.
Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
trade : And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
C faut, that loves with all affection ; D sol re, one cliff, two notes have I;
E la mi, show pity, or I die. Call
you this gamut? tut! I like it not: Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,? To change true rules for odd inventions.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your
books, And help to dress your sister's chamber up; You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day. Bian. Farewell, sweet masters, both; I must be
gone. [Exeunt Bianca and Servant. Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
[Erit. Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks, he looks as though he were in love: Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale, Seize thee, that list: If once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit.
The same. Before Baptista's House. Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHARINE,
BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants. Bap. Signior Lucentio, [TO TRAN10.] this is the
'pointed day That Katharine and Petruchio should be married, And yet we hear not of our son-in-law : What will be said? what mockery will it be, To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage ? What says Lucentio to this shame of ours? Kath. No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be
forc'd To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart, Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen;' Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure. I told you, I, he was a frantick fool, Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour : And, to be noted for a merry man, He'll woo a thousand, point the day of marriage, Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns; Yet never means to wed where he hath woo’d. Now must the world point at poor
Katharine, And say,-Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife, If it would please him come and marry her.
Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too; Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
9 Caprice, inconstancy.
Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
though! [Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA, and others. Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For such an injury would vex a saint, Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
Bion. Master, master! news, old news, and such news as you never heard of!
Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?
Bion. Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming ?
Bap. Is he come?
Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turned; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced; an old rusty sword ta’en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred: besides, possessed with the glanders, and like to mose