Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 49
LUCENTIO. Preposterous ass, that never read so far To know the cause why music was ordain ' d! Was it not to refresh the mind of man After his studies or his usual pain? Then give me leave to read philosophy, And while I pause serve in your harmony.
HORTENSIO. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCA. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, To strive for that which resteth in my choice. I am no breeching scholar in the schools, I ' ll not be tied to hours nor ' pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself. And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down; Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done ere you have tun ' d.
HORTENSIO. You ' ll leave his lecture when I am in tune? [ Retires.] LUCENTIO. That will be never: tune your instrument. BIANCA. Where left we last?
LUCENTIO. Here, madam:-- Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus; Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
BIANCA. Construe them.
LUCENTIO. ' 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.
HORTENSIO. { Returning.] Madam, my instrument ' s in tune. BIANCA. Let ' s hear.--