Bap. And I, to found the depth of this knavery.

[Exit. Luc. Look not pale, Bianca, thy Father will not

frown. [Exeunt. Gre. My cake is dough, but I'll in among the reft, Out of hope of all, but my fhare of the feaft. [Exit. [Petruchio and Catharina advancing.

Cath. Hufband, let's follow, to fee the end of this ado.

Pet. Firft kifs me, Kate, and we will.
Cath. What, in the midft of the street?
Pet. What, art thou asham'd of me?

Cath. No, Sir, God forbid, but afham'd to kifs. Pet. Why, then let's home again: come, firrah, let's away.

Cath. Nay, I will give thee a kifs; now pray thee,,

love, stay.

Pet. Is not this well? come, my fweet Kate; Better once than never, for never too late.

[Exeunt.

Enter Baptifta, Vincentio, Gremio, Pedant, Lucentio, Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Petruchio, Catharina, Grumio, Hortenfio, and Widow.

fervants bringing in a banquet.

Tranio's

Luc. At last, tho' long, our jarring notes agree:
And time it is, when raging war is done,

To smile at 'scapes, and perils over-blown.
My fair Bianca, bid my Father welcome,

While I with felf-fame kindness welcome thine;
Brother Petruchio, Silter Catharine,

And thou, Hortenfio, with thy loving Widow;
Feast with the best, and welcome to my houfe:
My banquet is to close our stomachs up

I

After

After our great good cheer: pray you, fit down;
For now we fit to chat, as well as eat.

Pet. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat!
Bap. Padua affords this kindness, Son Petruchio.
Pet. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

Hor. For both our fakes, I would that word were

true.

Pet. Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his Widow. Wid. Then never truft me, if I be afeard.

Pet. You are very fenfible, and yet you mifs my fense: I mean, Hortenfio is afeard of you.

Wid. He, that is giddy, thinks, the world turns round.

Pet. Roundly replied.

Cath, Miftrefs, how mean you that?

Wid. Thus I conceive by him.

Pet. Conceives by me, how likes Hortenfio that? Hor. My widow fays, thus fhe conceives her tale. Pet. Very well mended; kifs him for that, good Widow.

Cath. He, that is giddy thinks, the world turns round

I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a Shrew, Measures my husband's forrow by his woe;

And now you know my meaning.

Cath. A very mean meaning.

Wid. Right, I mean you.

Cath. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.

Pet. To her, Kate.

Hor. To her, Widow..

Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does

Hor. That's my Office.

put

her down.

Pet. Spoke like an Officer; ha' to thee, lad.

[Drinks to Hortenfio. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? Gre. Believe me, Sir, they butt heads together well. Bian. Head and butt? an hafty-witted body

Would

Would fay, your head and butt were head and horn. Vin. Ay, miftrefs Bride, hath that awaken'd you? Bian. Ay, but not frighted me, therefore I'll sleep again.

Pet. Nay, that thou shalt not, fince you have begun: Have at you for a better jeft or two.

Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to fhift my bufh: And then purfue me, as you

You are welcome all.

draw your

bow..

[Exeunt Bianca, Catharine, and Widow. Pet. She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio, This bird you aim'd at, tho' you hit it not;

Tra. Oh, Sir, Lucentio flip'd me like his grey-hound, Which runs himself, and catches for his mafter.

Pet. A good fwift Simile, but fomething currifh. Tra. 'Tis well, Sir, that you hunted for yourself: 'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay. Bap. Oh, oh, Petruchio, Tranio hits you now, Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. Hor. Confefs, confefs, hath he not hit you there? Pet. He has a little gall'd me, I confefs. And as the jeft did glance away from me, 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

Bap. Now, in good fadnefs, fon Petruchio, I think, thou haft the verieft Shrew of all.

Pet. Well, I fay, no; and therefore for affurance, Let's each one fend unto his wife, and he Whose wife is moft obedient to come first, When he doth fend for her, fhall win the wager. Hor. Content; -what wager?

Luc. Twenty crowns.
Pet. Twenty crowns!

Swift, befides the original fenfe of fpiedy in motion, fignified witty, quick-wited. So in As you like it, the Duke fays of the clown, He is very fwift and fententious. Quick is now ufed in

almoft the fame fenfe, as nimble was in the age after that of our authour. Heylin fays of Hales, that he had known Laud for a nimble difputant.

I'll venture fo much on my hawk or hound,
But twenty times fo much upon my Wife.
Luc. A hundred then.

Hor. Content.

Pet. A match, 'tis done.
Hor. Who fhall begin?
Luc. That will I.

Go, Biondello, bid your Mistress come to me.

Bion. I go.

Bap. Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.

[Exit.

Luc. I'll have no halves: I'll bear it all myself.

Re-enter Biondello.

How now, what news?

Bion. Sir, my Mistress fends you word

That she is bufy, and cannot come.

Pet. How? fhe's bufy and cannot come, is that an answer?

Gre. Ay, and a kind one too :

Pray, God, Sir, your wife send you not a worse.
Pet. I hope better.

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go and intreat my wife to come to me forthwith.

[Exit Biondello. Pet. Oh, ho! intreat her! nay, then she needs mult

come.

Hor. I am afraid, Sir, do

you what you can,

Enter Biondello.

Yours will not be intreated: now, where's my wife?
Bion. She fays, you have fome goodly jeft in hand;

She will not come: fhe bids you come to her.
Pet. Worfe and worse, she will not come !

Oh vile, intolerable, not to be indur❜d :
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress,

Say, I command her to come to me. [Exit Grumio.
Hor. I know her answer,

Pet.

Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there's an end.

SCENE V.

Enter Catharina.

Bap. Now, by my hollidam, here comes Catharine!
Cath. What is your will, Sir, that you fend for
me?

Pet. Where is your Sifter, and Hortenfio's Wife?
Cath. They fit conferring by the parlour fire.
Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to come,
Swinge me them foundly forth unto their husbands:
Away, I fay, and bring them hither straight.

Exit Catharina.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
Hor. And fo it is: I wonder, what it bodes.
Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet
life,

And awful rule, and right fupremacy:

And, to be fhort, what not, that's fweet and happy.
Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou haft won; and I will add
Unto their loffes twenty thousand crowns,
Another dowry to another Daughter;
For fhe is chang'd, as fhe had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more fign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.

Enter Catharina, Bianca, and widow.

See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prifoners to her womanly perfuafion:
Catharine, that Cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.

[She pulls off her cap, and throws it down.