1 Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
2 Born in Verona, old Antonio's son.
3 Happily met; the happier for thy son.
4 Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
5 Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua.
6 Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son; A man well known throughout all Italy.
7 Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
8 Let me embrace with old Vincentio; And wander we to see thy honest son, Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
9 This fellow I remember Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son; 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.'
10 Now by my mother's son, and that's myself, It shall be moon, or star, or what I list, Or ere I journey to your father's house.
11 Here's Lucentio, Right son to the right Vincentio; That have by marriage made thy daughter mine, While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.
12 And now by law, as well as reverend age, I may entitle thee my loving father: The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman, Thy son by this hath married.
13 Fair sir, and you my merry mistress, That with your strange encounter much amaz'd me, My name is called Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa; And bound I am to Padua, there to visit A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
14 Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence, It shall become to serve all hopes conceiv'd, To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds: And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study, Virtue and that part of philosophy Will I apply that treats of happiness By virtue specially to be achiev'd.
15 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's walls as anyone Old Signior Gremio has in Padua; Besides two thousand ducats by the year Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
16 Hic ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love, Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a-wooing, Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
17 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.
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