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And free access and favour as the rest. |
And toward the education of your daughters |
I here bestow a simple instrument, |
And this small packet of Greek and Latin books. |
If you accept them, then their worth is great. |
BAPTISTA. Lucentio is your name? Of whence, I pray? |
TRANIO. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio. |
BAPTISTA. A mighty man of Pisa. By report |
I know him well. You are very welcome, sir. |
Take you the lute, and you the set of books; |
You shall go see your pupils presently. |
Holla, within! |
Enter a SERVANT |
Sirrah, lead these gentlemen |
To my daughters; and tell them both |
These are their tutors. Bid them use them well. |
Exit SERVANT leading HORTENSIO carrying the lute |
and LUCENTIO with the books |
We will go walk a little in the orchard, |
And then to dinner. You are passing welcome, |
And so I pray you all to think yourselves. |
PETRUCHIO. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, |
And every day I cannot come to woo. |
You knew my father well, and in him me, |
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods, |
Which I have bettered rather than decreas'd. |
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love, |
What dowry shall I have with her to wife? |
BAPTISTA. After my death, the one half of my lands |
And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns. |
PETRUCHIO. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of |
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me, |
In all my lands and leases whatsoever. |
Let specialities be therefore drawn between us, |
That covenants may be kept on either hand. |
BAPTISTA. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, |
That is, her love; for that is all in all. |
PETRUCHIO. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, |
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; |
And where two raging fires meet together, |
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury. |
Though little fire grows great with little wind, |
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. |
So I to her, and so she yields to me; |
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. |
BAPTISTA. Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed |
But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. |
PETRUCHIO. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, |
That shake not though they blow perpetually. |
Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broke |
BAPTISTA. How now, my friend! Why dost thou look so pale? |
HORTENSIO. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. |
BAPTISTA. What, will my daughter prove a good musician? |
HORTENSIO. I think she'll sooner prove a soldier: |
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. |
BAPTISTA. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? |
HORTENSIO. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me. |
I did but tell her she mistook her frets, |
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering, |
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit, |
'Frets, call you these?' quoth she 'I'll fume with them.' |
And with that word she struck me on the head, |
And through the instrument my pate made way; |
And there I stood amazed for a while, |
As on a pillory, looking through the lute, |
While she did call me rascal fiddler |
And twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms, |
As she had studied to misuse me so. |
PETRUCHIO. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; |
I love her ten times more than e'er I did. |
O, how I long to have some chat with her! |
BAPTISTA. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited; |
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter; |
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns. |
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us, |
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you? |
PETRUCHIO. I pray you do. Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO |
I'll attend her here, |
And woo her with some spirit when she comes. |
Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain |
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. |
Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear |
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. |
Say she be mute, and will not speak a word; |
Then I'll commend her volubility, |
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence. |
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks, |
As though she bid me stay by her a week; |
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day |
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married. |
But here she comes; :Lnd.now, Petruchio, speak. |
Enter KATHERINA |
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