?
Where is Lucentio?
Here's Lucentio,
Right son to the right Vincentio;
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
Here's packing, with a witness to deceive us all!
Where is that damned villain Tranio,
That faced and braved me in this matter so?
Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
Cambio is changed into 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 arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforced him to;
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent
me to the gaol.
But do you hear, sir? have you married my daughter
without asking my good will?
Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but
I will in, to be revenged for this villany.
And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.
Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.
Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.
First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
What, in the midst of the street?
What, art thou ashamed of me?
No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.
Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.
Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late.
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 self-same kindness welcome thine.
Brother Petruchio, sister Katharina,
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.
Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
For both our sakes, I would that word were true.
Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
Then never trust me, if I be afeard.
You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense: