Enter LUCENTIO [disguised as Cambio],
           HORTENSIO [disguised as Litio],
           and BIANCA.

      LUCENTIO
  1   Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir:
  2   Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
  3   Her sister Katharina welcomed you withal?

      HORTENSIO
  4   But, wrangling pedant, this is
  5   The patroness of heavenly harmony:
  6   Then give me leave to have prerogative;
  7   And when in music we have spent an hour,
  8   Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.

      LUCENTIO
  9   Preposterous ass, that never read so far
 10   To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
 11   Was it not to refresh the mind of man
 12   After his studies or his usual pain?
 13   Then give me leave to read philosophy,
 14   And while I pause, serve in your harmony.

      HORTENSIO
 15   Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.

      BIANCA
 16   Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
 17   To strive for that which resteth in my choice:
 18   I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
 19   I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
 20   But learn my lessons as I please myself.
 21   And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down:
 22   Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
 23   His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.

      HORTENSIO
 24   You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?

      LUCENTIO
 25   That will be never: tune your instrument.

      BIANCA
 26   Where left we last?

      LUCENTIO
 27   Here, madam:
 28   "Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
 29   Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis."

      BIANCA
 30   Conster them.

      LUCENTIO
 31   "Hic ibat," as I told you before, "Simois," I am
 32   Lucentio, "hic est," son unto Vincentio of Pisa,
 33   "Sigeia tellus," disguised thus to get your love;
 34   "Hic steterat," and that Lucentio that comes
 35   a-wooing, "Priami," is my man Tranio, "regia,"
 36   bearing my port, "celsa senis," that we might
 37   beguile the old pantaloon.

      HORTENSIO
 38   Madam, my instrument's in tune.

      BIANCA
 39   Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.

      LUCENTIO
 40   Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.

      BIANCA
 41   Now let me see if I can conster it: "Hic ibat
 42   Simois," I know you not, "hic est Sigeia tellus,"
 43   I trust you not; "Hic steterat Priami," take heed
 44   he hear us not, "regia," presume not, "celsa senis,"
 45   despair not.

      HORTENSIO
 46   Madam, 'tis now in tune.

      LUCENTIO
 46                                     All but the base.

      HORTENSIO
 47   The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.

           [Aside.]

      BIANCA
 51   In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.

      LUCENTIO
 52   Mistrust it not: for, sure, Æacides
 53   Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.

      BIANCA
 54   I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
 55   I should be arguing still upon that doubt:
 56   But let it rest. Now, Litio, to you:
 57   Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
 58   That I have been thus pleasant with you both.

      HORTENSIO [To Lucentio.]
 59   You may go walk, and give me leave a while:
 60   My lessons make no music in three parts.

      LUCENTIO
 61   Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait,

           [Aside.]

      HORTENSIO
 64   Madam, before you touch the instrument,
 65   To learn the order of my fingering,
 66   I must begin with rudiments of art;
 67   To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
 68   More pleasant, pithy and effectual,
 69   Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
 70   And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.

      BIANCA
 71   Why, I am past my gamut long ago.

      HORTENSIO
 72   Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.

      BIANCA [Reads.]
 73   "'Gamut' I am, the ground of all accord,
 74   'A re,' to Plead Hortensio's passion;
 75   'B mi,' Bianca, take him for thy lord,
 76   'C fa ut,' that loves with all affection:
 77   'D sol re,' one clef, two notes have I:
 78   'E la mi,' show pity, or I die."
 79   Call you this gamut? tut, I like it not:
 80   Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,
 81   To change true rules for old inventions.

           Enter a MESSENGER.

      Messenger
 82   Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
 83   And help to dress your sister's chamber up:
 84   You know tomorrow is the wedding-day.

      BIANCA
 85   Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone.

           [Exeunt Bianca and Messenger.]

      LUCENTIO
 86   Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.

           Exit.

      HORTENSIO
 87   But I have cause to pry into this pedant:
 88   Methinks he looks as though he were in love:
 89   Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
 90   To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale,
 91   Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging,
 92   Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.

           Exit.