O fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCHIO.
[Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
[To Tailor.] Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
HORTENSIO.
[Aside to Tailor.] Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow;
Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say! commend me to thy master.
[Exit TAILOR.]
PETRUCHIO.
Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father’s
Even in these honest mean habiliments.
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor
For ‘tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
What, is the jay more precious than the lark
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.
If thou account’st it shame, lay it on me;
And therefore frolic; we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father’s house.
Go call my men, and let us straight to him;
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
Let’s see; I think ‘tis now some seven o’clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.
KATHERINA.
I dare assure you, sir, ‘tis almost two,
And ‘twill be suppertime ere you come there.
PETRUCHIO.
It shall be seven ere I go to horse.
Look what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it. Sirs, let ‘t alone:
I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
It shall be what o’clock I say it is.
HORTENSIO.
Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. Padua. Before BAPTISTA’S house.
[Enter TRANIO, and the PEDANT dressed like VINCENTIO.]
TRANIO.
Sir, this is the house; please it you that I call?
PEDANT.
Ay, what else? and, but I be deceived,
Signior Baptista may remember me,
Near twenty years ago in Genoa,
Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
TRANIO.
‘Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
With such austerity as ‘longeth to a father.
PEDANT.
I warrant you. But, sir, here comes your boy;
‘Twere good he were school’d.
[Enter BIONDELLO.]
TRANIO.
Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.
Imagine ‘twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLO.
Tut! fear not me.
TRANIO.
But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLO.
I told him that your father was at Venice,
And that you look’d for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO.
Thou’rt a tall fellow; hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.
[Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO.]
Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
[To the PEDANT] Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of;
I pray you stand good father to me now;
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
PEDANT.
Soft, son!
Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And,—for the good report I hear of you,
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And she to him,—to stay him not too long,
I am content, in a good father’s care,
To have him match’d; and, if you please to like
No worse than I, upon some agreement
Me shall you find ready and willing
With one consent to have her so bestow’d;
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
BAPTISTA.
Sir, pardon me in what I have to say.
Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
Right true it is your son Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,
Or both dissemble deeply their affections;
And therefore, if you say no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him,
And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
The match is made, and all is done:
Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
TRANIO.
I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
We be affied, and such assurance ta’en
As shall with either part’s agreement stand?
BAPTISTA.
Not in my house, Lucentio, for you know
Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants;
Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still,
And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIO.
Then at my lodging, an it like you:
There doth my father lie; and there this night
We’ll pass the business privately and well.
Send for your daughter by your servant here;
My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
The worst is this, that at so slender warning
You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
BAPTISTA.
It likes me well. Cambio, hie you home,
And bid Bianca make her ready straight;