richly furnished with plate and gold,
Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stuff’d my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearl,
Valens of Venice gold in needle-work;
Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or house-keeping. Then at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am strook in years, I must confess,
And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If whilst I live she will be only mine.
Tra.
That ‘only’ came well in. Sir, list to me:
I am my father’s heir and only son.
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I’ll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua,
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointer.
What, have I pinch’d you, Signior Gremio?
Gre.
Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
Aside.
My land amounts not to so much in all.—
That she shall have, besides an argosy
That now is lying in Marsellis road.
What, have I chok’d you with an argosy?
Tra.
Gremio, ’tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much, what e’er thou off’rest next.
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 world,
By your firm promise; Gremio is outvied.
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.
Exit.
Gre.
Adieu, good neighbor. Now I fear thee not.
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.
Exit.
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;
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.
Exit.
¶
ACT III
[Scene I]
Enter Lucentio [as Cambio], Hortensio [as Litio], 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.
