Call forth an officer.
[Enter one with an OFFICER.]
Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista, I charge you see that he be forthcoming.
VINCENTIO.
Carry me to the gaol!
GREMIO.
Stay, officer; he shall not go to prison.
BAPTISTA.
Talk not, Signior Gremio; I say he shall go to prison.
GREMIO. Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched in this business; I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.
PEDANT.
Swear if thou darest.
GREMIO.
Nay, I dare not swear it.
TRANIO.
Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
GREMIO.
Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
BAPTISTA.
Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!
VINCENTIO. Thus strangers may be haled and abus’d: O monstrous villain!
[Re-enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and BIANCA.]
BIONDELLO. O! we are spoiled; and yonder he is: deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.
LUCENTIO.
[Kneeling.] Pardon, sweet father.
VINCENTIO.
Lives my sweetest son?
[BIONDELLO, TRANIO, and PEDANT, run out.]
BIANCA.
[Kneeling.] Pardon, dear father.
BAPTISTA.
How hast thou offended?
Where is Lucentio?
LUCENTIO.
Here’s Lucentio,
Right son to the right Vincentio;
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes blear’d thine eyne.
GREMIO.
Here ‘s packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!
VINCENTIO.
Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
That fac’d and brav’d me in this matter so?
BAPTISTA.
Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
BIANCA.
Cambio is chang’d into Lucentio.
LUCENTIO.
Love wrought these miracles. Bianca’s love
Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did bear my countenance in the town;
And happily I have arriv’d at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforc’d him to;
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
VINCENTIO. I’ll slit the villain’s nose that would have sent me to the gaol.
BAPTISTA. [To LUCENTIO.] But do you hear, sir? Have you married my daughter without asking my good will?
VINCENTIO. Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but I will in, to be revenged for this villainy.
[Exit.]
BAPTISTA.
And I to sound the depth of this knavery.
[Exit.]
LUCENTIO.
Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA.]
GREMIO.
My cake is dough, but I’ll in among the rest;
Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.
[Exit.]
[PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA advance.]
KATHERINA.
Husband, let’s follow to see the end of this ado.
PETRUCHIO.
First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
KATHERINA.
What! in the midst of the street?
PETRUCHIO.
What! art thou ashamed of me?
KATHERINA.
No, sir; God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
PETRUCHIO.
Why, then, let’s home again. Come, sirrah, let’s away.
KATHERINA.
Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.
PETRUCHIO.
Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. A room in LUCENTIO’S house.
[Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GREMIO, the PEDANT, LUCENTIO, BIANCA, PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, HORTENSIO, and WIDOW. TRANIO, BIONDELLO, and GRUMIO, and Others, attending.]
LUCENTIO.
At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
And time it is when raging war is done,
To smile at ‘scapes and perils overblown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with selfsame kindness welcome thine.
Brother Petruchio, sister Katherina,
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
For now we sit to chat as well as eat.
[They sit at table.]
PETRUCHIO.
Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
BAPTISTA.
Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
PETRUCHIO.
Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
HORTENSIO.
For both our sakes I would that word were true.
PETRUCHIO.
Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
WIDOW.
Then never trust me if I be afeard.
PETRUCHIO.
You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
WIDOW.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
PETRUCHIO.
Roundly replied.
KATHERINA.
Mistress, how mean you that?
WIDOW.
Thus I conceive by him.
PETRUCHIO.
Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
HORTENSIO.
My widow says thus she conceives her tale.