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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.
HORTENSIA:
From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
GREMIO:
And me too, good Lord!
TRANIO:
Hush, master! here's some good pastime toward:
That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
LUCENTIO:
But in the other's silence do I see
Maid's mild behavior and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio!
TRANIO:
Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.
BAPTISTA:
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.
KATHARINA:
A pretty peat! it is best
Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
BIANCA:
Sister, content you in my discontent.
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
My books and instruments shall be my company,
On them to took and practise by myself.
LUCENTIO:
Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak.
HORTENSIO:
Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I that our good will effects
Bianca's grief.
GREMIO:
Why will you mew her up,
Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
BAPTISTA:
Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolved:
Go in, 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 farewell. Katharina, you may stay;
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
KATHARINA:
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?
GREMIO:
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 cakes dough on
both sides. Farewell: 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.
HORTENSIO:
So will I, Signior Gremio: but a word, I pray.
Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked
parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both,
that we may yet again have access to our fair
mistress and be happy rivals in Bianco's love, to
labour and effect one thing specially.
GREMIO:
What's that, I pray?
HORTENSIO:
Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
GREMIO:
A husband! a devil.
HORTENSIO:
I say, a husband.