GREMIO. First, as you know, my house within the city Is 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, Valance of Venice gold in needlework; Pewter and brass, and all things that belong To house or housekeeping: 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 struck in years, I must confess; And if I die tomorrow this is hers, If whilst I live she will be only mine. TRANIO. 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’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. What, have I pinch’d you, Signior Gremio? GREMIO. Two thousand ducats by the year of land! My land amounts not to so much in all: That she shall have, besides an argosy That now is lying in Marseilles’ road. What, have I chok’d you with an argosy? TRANIO. 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, whate’er thou offer’st next. GREMIO. Nay, I have offer’d 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. TRANIO. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world, By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied. BAPTISTA. 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? TRANIO. That’s but a cavil; he is old, I young. GREMIO. And may not young men die as well as old? BAPTISTA. 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. GREMIO. Adieu, good neighbour. [_Exit Baptista._] 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._] TRANIO. A vengeance on your crafty wither’d 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. Padua. A room in Baptista’s house.