Gre. Nay, I have off'red all, I have no more;
And she can have no more than all I have.
If you like me, she shall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the
By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied.
Bap. I must confess your offer is the best;
And, let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own; else, you must pardon me,
If you should die before him, where's her
dower?
Tra. That's but a cavil. He is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old?
Bap. Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolv'd: on Sunday next you know
My daughter Katherine is to be married.
Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio.
And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee not. 401 Sirrah young gamester; your father were a fool
To give thee all, and in his waning age
Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy!
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide!
Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.
'Tis in my head to do my master good.
I see no reason but suppos'd Lucentio
Must get a father, call'd "suppos'd Vincentio"; 410
And that's a wonder. Fathers commonly
Do get their children; but in this case of wooing,
A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
[Padua. Baptista's house.]
Enter Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca.
Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcom'd you withal?
Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony.
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in music we have spent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
Luc. Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his studies or his usual pain ?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And while I pause, serve in your harmony.
Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
To strive for that which resteth in my 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? Luc. That will be never; tune your instrument. Bian. Where left we last?
Luc. Here, madam :
"Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus ;
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.”
Bian. Construe them.
Luc. "Hic 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.
Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune.
Bian. Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.
Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it :
"Hic ibat Simois," I know you not, “hic est
Sigeia tellus," I trust you not; "Hic steterat
Priami," take heed he hear us not, "regia,”
presume not, "celsa senis," despair not.
Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc.
Hor. The base is right; 'tis the base knave that
[Aside.] How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, acides
Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
Bian. I must believe my master; else, I promise
I should be arguing still upon that doubt.
But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you.
Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave a while.
My lessons make no music in three parts.
Luc. Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait,
[Aside.] And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade ;
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
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