Pet. Is not this well? come my sweete Kate.

Better once then neuer, for neuer too late.

Actus Quintus.

Exeunt.

Enter Baptifta, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio, and Bianca, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and widdow: the feruingmen with Tranio bringing in a banquet.

Luc. At last, though long, our iarring notes agree,

And time it is when raging warre is come,
To fmile at fcapes and perils ouerblowne:

My faire Bianca bid my father welcome,

While I with felfe fame kindneffe welcome thine:
Brother Petruchio, fifter Katerina,

And thou Hortenfio, with thy louing Widdow :
Feaft with the best, and welcome to my house,
My banket is to close our stomakes vp
After our great good cheere: pray you fit downe,
For now we fit to chat as well as eate.

Petr. Nothing but fit and fit, and eate and eate.
Bap. Padua affoords this kindneffe fonne Petruchio.
Petr. Padua affords nothing but what is kinde.
Hor. For both our fakes I would that word were true.
Petr. Now for my life Hortenfio feares his Widow.
Wid. Then neuer trust me if I be affeard.

Petr. You are very fenfible, and yet you miffe my fence:

I meane Hortenfio is afear'd of you.

Wid. He that is giddie thinkes the world turns round.

Petr. Roundly replied.

Kate. Miftris how meane you that?

Wid. Thus I conceiue by him.

Petr. Conceiues by me, how likes Hortenfio that?

Hor. My widdow fayes, thus fhe conceives her tale.

Petr.

Petr. Verie well mended: kiffe him for that good widdow. Kate. He that is giddie thinkes the world turnes round, I pray you tell me what you meant by that.

Wid. Your hufband being troubled with a fhrew, Measures my husbands forrow, by his woe:

And now you know my meaning.

Kate. A verie meane meaning.

Wid. Right. I meane you.

Kate. And I am meane indeed, respecting you.

Petr. To her Kate.

Hor. To her Widdow.

Petr. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.

Hor. That's my office.

Petr. Spoke like an officer: ha to thee lad.

Drinkes to Hortenfio.

Bap. How likes Gremio thefe quicke witted folkes?
Gre. Beleeue me fir, they but together well.

Bian. Head, and but an haftie witted bodie,

Would fay your head and but were head and horne.
Vin. I miftris bride, hath that awakened you?
Bian. I, but not frighted me, therefore Ile fleepe againe.
Petr. Nay that you shall not fince you haue begun :

Haue at you for a better ieft or too.

Bian. Am I your bird, I meane to shift my bush,

And then pursue me as you draw my bow.

You are welcome all.

Exit Bianca.

Petr. She hath preuented me, here fignior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not,
Therfore a health to all that shot and mist.

Tri. Oh fir, Lucentio flipt me like his gray-hound,
Which runs himfelfe, and catches for his master.
Pet. A good swift fimile, but fomething currish.
VOL. II.

G

Tra.

Tra. 'Tis well fir that you hunted for yourselfe:
'Tis thought your deere does hold you at a baye.
Bap. Oh, oh Petruchio, Tranio hits you now.
Luc. I thanke thee for that gird good Tranio.
Hor. Confeffe, confeffe, hath he not hit you here?
Petr. A has a litle gald me I confeffe:
And as the ieft did glaunce away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you too out right.
Bap. Now in good fadnelle fonne Petruchio,
I thinke thou haft the veriest shrew of all.

Petr. Well I fay no: and therefore fir, affurance,
Let's each one fend vnto his wife,

And he whose wife is moft obedient,

To come at first when he doth fend for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
Hor. Content what's the wager?

Luc. Twentie crownes.

Petr. Twenty crownes.

Ile venture fo much of my hawke or hound,
But twentie times fo much vpon my wife.
Luc. A hundred then.

Hor. Content.

Petr. A match 'tis done.

Hor. Who fhall begin?

Luc. That will I.

Goe Biondello, bid your miftris come to me.

Bion. I goe.

Bap. Sonne Ile be you halfe, Bianca comes.

Luc. Ile haue no halues: Ile beare it all myfelfe.

Enter Biondello.

How now, what newes?

Exit.

Bion. Sir, my miftris fends you word

That he is bufie, and fhee cannot come.

Petr. How? fhe's busie and fhee cannot come: is that an anfwere ?

Gre. I, and a kinde one too :

Praie God for your wife fend you not a worse.

Petr. I hope better.

Hor. Sirra Biondello, goe and intreate my wife to come to mee forthwith.

Exit Bion.

Pet. Oh ho intreate her, nay then she must needes come. Hor. I am affraid fir, doe what you can

Enter Biondello.

Yours will not be intreated: now where's my wife?
Bion. She fayes you haue fome goodly ieft in hand,
She will not come: fhe bids you come to her.
Petr. Worfe and worse, she will not come :
Oh vild, intollerable, not to be indur'd:
Sirra Grumio, goe to your miftris,

Say I command her come to me.

Hor. I know her anfwere.

Pet. What?

Hor. She will not.

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

Enter Katerina.

Bap. Now by my hollidam here comes Katerina.
Kat. What is your will fir, that you fend for me?
Petr. Where is your fifter, and Hortenfios wife?
Kate. They fit conferring by the parler fire.
Petr. Goe fetch them hither, if they denie to come,
Swinge me them foundly forth vnto their hufbands:
Away I fay, and bring them hither straight.

G 2

Exit.

Luc.

Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talke of a wonder.
Hor. And fo it is: I wonder what it boads.

Petr. Marrie peace it boads, and loue, and quiet life,
An awfull rule, and right fupremacie :

And to be short, what not, that's fweete and happie.
Bap. Now faire befall thee good Petruchio;

The wager thou haft won, and I will adde
Vnto their losses twentie thousand crownes,
Another dowrie to another daughter,
For fhe is chang'd as fhe had neuer bin.
Petr. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And thew more figne of her obedience,

Her new built vertue and obedience.

Enter Kate, Bianca, and Widdow.

See where she comes, and brings your froward wiues
As prisoners to her womanlie perfwafion :
Katerine, that cap of yours becomes you not,
Off with that bable, throw it vnder foote.

Wid. Lord let me neuer haue a cause to sigh,
Till I be brought to such a fillie passe.

Bian. Fie what a foolish dutie call you this?
Luc. I would your dutie were as foolish too :
The wisdome of your dutie faire Bianca,
Hath coft me fiue hundred crownes fince fupper time.

Bian. The more foole you for laying on my dutie.
Pet. Katherine I charge thee tell thefe head-ftrong women,

What dutie they doe owe their lords and hufbands.

Wid. Come, come, your mocking: we will haue no telling. Pet. Come on I say, and first begin with her.

Wid. She fhall not.

Pet. 1 fay the fhall, and firft begin with her.

Kate. Fie, fie, vnknit that threatning vnkind brow,

And