The Taming of the Shrew/Source

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):


 * Persons in the Induction:
 * A LORD
 * CHRISTOPHER SLY, a tinker
 * HOSTESS
 * PAGE
 * PLAYERS
 * HUNTSMEN
 * SERVANTS


 * BAPTISTA MINOLA, a rich eman of Padua
 * VINCENTIO, an old gentleman of Pisa
 * LUCENTIO, son to Vincentio; in love with Bianca
 * PETRUCHIO, a gentleman of Verona; suitor to Katherina


 * Suitors to Bianca:
 * GREMIO
 * HORTENSIO


 * Servants to Lucentio
 * TRANIO
 * BIONDELLO


 * Servants to Petruchio
 * GRUMIO
 * CURTIS


 * PEDANT, set up to personate Vincentio


 * Daughters to Baptista
 * KATHERINA, the shrew
 * BIANCA


 * WIDOW


 * Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio

SCENE: Sometimes in Padua, and sometimes in PETRUCHIO'S house in the country.

SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath.
[Enter HOSTESS and SLY.]

SLY.
 * I'll pheeze you, in faith.

HOSTESS.
 * A pair of stocks, you rogue!

SLY.
 * Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues; look in the
 * chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas
 * pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa!

HOSTESS.
 * You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

SLY.
 * No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed
 * and warm thee.

HOSTESS.
 * I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.

[Exit.]

SLY.
 * Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law.
 * I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and kindly.

[Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep.]

[Horns winded. Enter a LORD from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.]

LORD.
 * Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds;
 * Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd,
 * And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
 * Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
 * At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
 * I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

FIRST HUNTSMAN.
 * Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord;
 * He cried upon it at the merest loss,
 * And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;
 * Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

LORD.
 * Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
 * I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
 * But sup them well, and look unto them all;
 * To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

FIRST HUNTSMAN.
 * I will, my lord.

LORD.
 * [ Sees Sly.] What's here? One dead, or drunk?
 * See, doth he breathe?

SECOND HUNTSMAN.
 * He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
 * This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

LORD.
 * O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
 * Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
 * Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
 * What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
 * Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
 * A most delicious banquet by his bed,
 * And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
 * Would not the beggar then forget himself?

FIRST HUNTSMAN.
 * Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.

SECOND HUNTSMAN.
 * It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

LORD.
 * Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
 * Then take him up, and manage well the jest.
 * Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
 * And hang it round with all my wanton pictures;
 * Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,
 * And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet.
 * Procure me music ready when he wakes,
 * To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
 * And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
 * And with a low submissive reverence
 * Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
 * Let one attend him with a silver basin
 * Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;
 * Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
 * And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
 * Some one be ready with a costly suit,
 * And ask him what apparel he will wear;
 * Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
 * And that his lady mourns at his disease.
 * Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
 * And, when he says he is—say that he dreams,
 * For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
 * This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
 * It will be pastime passing excellent,
 * If it be husbanded with modesty.

FIRST HUNTSMAN.
 * My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
 * As he shall think by our true diligence,
 * He is no less than what we say he is.

LORD.
 * Take him up gently, and to bed with him,
 * And each one to his office when he wakes.

[SLY is bourne out. A trumpet sounds.]


 * Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:

[Exit SERVANT.]


 * Belike some noble gentleman that means,
 * Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

[Re-enter SERVANT.]


 * How now! who is it?

SERVANT.
 * An it please your honour, players
 * That offer service to your lordship.

LORD.
 * Bid them come near.

[Enter PLAYERS.]


 * Now, fellows, you are welcome.

PLAYERS.
 * We thank your honour.

LORD.
 * Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

PLAYER.
 * So please your lordship to accept our duty.

LORD.
 * With all my heart. This fellow I remember
 * Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;
 * 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.
 * I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
 * Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.

PLAYER.
 * I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

LORD.
 * 'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.
 * Well, you are come to me in happy time,
 * The rather for I have some sport in hand
 * Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
 * There is a lord will hear you play to-night;
 * But I am doubtful of your modesties,
 * Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour,—
 * For yet his honour never heard a play,—
 * You break into some merry passion
 * And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
 * If you should smile, he grows impatient.

PLAYER.
 * Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,
 * Were he the veriest antick in the world.

LORD.
 * Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
 * And give them friendly welcome every one:
 * Let them want nothing that my house affords.

[Exit one with the PLAYERS.]


 * Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
 * And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady;
 * That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
 * And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
 * Tell him from me—as he will win my love,—
 * He bear himself with honourable action,
 * Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
 * Unto their lords, by them accomplished;
 * Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
 * With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
 * And say 'What is't your honour will command,
 * Wherein your lady and your humble wife
 * May show her duty and make known her love?'
 * And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
 * And with declining head into his bosom,
 * Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
 * To see her noble lord restor'd to health,
 * Who for this seven years hath esteemed him
 * No better than a poor and loathsome beggar.
 * And if the boy have not a woman's gift
 * To rain a shower of commanded tears,
 * An onion will do well for such a shift,
 * Which, in a napkin being close convey'd,
 * Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
 * See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
 * Anon I'll give thee more instructions.

[Exit SERVANT.]


 * I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
 * Voice, gait, and action, of a gentlewoman;
 * I long to hear him call the drunkard husband;
 * And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
 * When they do homage to this simple peasant.
 * I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
 * May well abate the over-merry spleen,
 * Which otherwise would grow into extremes.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. A bedchamber in the LORD'S house.
[SLY is discovered in a rich nightgown, with ATTENDANTS: some with apparel, basin, ewer, and other appurtenances; and LORD, dressed like a servant.]

SLY.
 * For God's sake! a pot of small ale.

FIRST SERVANT.
 * Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?

SECOND SERVANT.
 * Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?

THIRD SERVANT.
 * What raiment will your honour wear to-day?

SLY.
 * I am Christophero Sly; call not me honour nor lordship. I
 * ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves,
 * give me conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear,
 * for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than
 * legs, nor no more shoes than feet: nay, sometime more feet than
 * shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather.

LORD.
 * Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
 * O, that a mighty man of such descent,
 * Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
 * Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

SLY.
 * What! would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old
 * Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a
 * card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present
 * profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of
 * Wincot, if she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on
 * the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in
 * Christendom. What! I am not bestraught. Here's—

THIRD SERVANT.
 * O! this it is that makes your lady mourn.

SECOND SERVANT.
 * O! this is it that makes your servants droop.

LORD.
 * Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
 * As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
 * O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
 * Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
 * And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
 * Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
 * Each in his office ready at thy beck:
 * Wilt thou have music? Hark! Apollo plays,

[Music]


 * And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
 * Or wilt thou sleep? We'll have thee to a couch
 * Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
 * On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
 * Say thou wilt walk: we will bestrew the ground:
 * Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapp'd,
 * Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
 * Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar
 * Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt?
 * Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
 * And fetch shall echoes from the hollow earth.

FIRST SERVANT.
 * Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
 * As breathed stags; ay, fleeter than the roe.

SECOND SERVANT.
 * Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight
 * Adonis painted by a running brook,
 * And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
 * Which seem to move and wanton with her breath
 * Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

LORD.
 * We'll show thee Io as she was a maid
 * And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
 * As lively painted as the deed was done.

THIRD SERVANT.
 * Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
 * Scratching her legs, that one shall swear she bleeds
 * And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
 * So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

LORD.
 * Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
 * Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
 * Than any woman in this waning age.

FIRST SERVANT.
 * And, till the tears that she hath shed for thee
 * Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
 * She was the fairest creature in the world;
 * And yet she is inferior to none.

SLY.
 * Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
 * Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now?
 * I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
 * I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:
 * Upon my life, I am a lord indeed;
 * And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.
 * Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
 * And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

SECOND SERVANT.
 * Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?

[Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin.]


 * O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!
 * O, that once more you knew but what you are!
 * These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
 * Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.

SLY.
 * These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
 * But did I never speak of all that time?

FIRST SERVANT.
 * O! yes, my lord, but very idle words;
 * For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
 * Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door,
 * And rail upon the hostess of the house,
 * And say you would present her at the leet,
 * Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts.
 * Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

SLY.
 * Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

THIRD SERVANT.
 * Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
 * Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
 * As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
 * And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
 * And twenty more such names and men as these,
 * Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

SLY.
 * Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!

ALL.
 * Amen.

SLY.
 * I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it.

[Enter the PAGE, as a lady, with ATTENDANTS.]

PAGE.
 * How fares my noble lord?

SLY.
 * Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
 * Where is my wife?

PAGE.
 * Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?

SLY.
 * Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
 * My men should call me lord: I am your goodman.

PAGE.
 * My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
 * I am your wife in all obedience.

SLY.
 * I know it well. What must I call her?

LORD.
 * Madam.

SLY.
 * Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?

LORD.
 * Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies.

SLY.
 * Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd
 * And slept above some fifteen year or more.

PAGE.
 * Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
 * Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

SLY.
 * 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
 * Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.

PAGE.
 * Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
 * To pardon me yet for a night or two;
 * Or, if not so, until the sun be set:
 * For your physicians have expressly charg'd,
 * In peril to incur your former malady,
 * That I should yet absent me from your bed:
 * I hope this reason stands for my excuse.

SLY.
 * Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long; but I would
 * be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry, in
 * despite of the flesh and the blood.

[Enter a SERVANT.]

SERVANT.
 * Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
 * Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
 * For so your doctors hold it very meet,
 * Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
 * And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:
 * Therefore they thought it good you hear a play,
 * And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
 * Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.

SLY.
 * Marry, I will; let them play it. Is not a commonty a
 * Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?

PAGE.
 * No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.

SLY.
 * What! household stuff?

PAGE.
 * It is a kind of history.

SLY.
 * Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let
 * the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.

[Flourish.]

SCENE I. Padua. A public place.
[Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.]

LUCENTIO.
 * Tranio, since for the great desire I had
 * To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
 * I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,
 * The pleasant garden of great Italy,
 * And by my father's love and leave am arm'd
 * With his good will and thy good company,
 * My trusty servant well approv'd in all,
 * Here let us breathe, and haply institute
 * A course of learning and ingenious studies.
 * Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
 * Gave me my being and my father first,
 * A merchant of great traffic through the world,
 * Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
 * 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.
 * Tell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left
 * And am to Padua come as he that leaves
 * A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
 * And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.

TRANIO.
 * Mi perdonato, gentle master mine;
 * I am in all affected as yourself;
 * Glad that you thus continue your resolve
 * To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
 * Only, good master, while we do admire
 * This virtue and this moral discipline,
 * Let's be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray;
 * Or so devote to Aristotle's checks
 * As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd.
 * Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
 * And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
 * Music and poesy use to quicken you;
 * The mathematics and the metaphysics,
 * Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you:
 * No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;
 * In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

LUCENTIO.
 * Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
 * If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
 * We could at once put us in readiness,
 * And take a lodging fit to entertain
 * Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
 * But stay awhile; what company is this?

TRANIO.
 * Master, some show to welcome us to town.

[Enter BAPTISTA, KATHERINA, BIANCA, GREMIO,and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Gentlemen, importune me no further,
 * For how I firmly am resolv'd you know;
 * That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
 * Before I have a husband for the elder.
 * If either of you both love Katherina,
 * Because I know you well and love you well,
 * Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

GREMIO.
 * To cart her rather: she's too rough for me.
 * There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

KATHERINA.
 * [To BAPTISTA] I pray you, sir, is it your will
 * To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

HORTENSIO.
 * Mates, maid! How mean you that? No mates for you,
 * Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

KATHERINA.
 * I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
 * I wis it is not halfway to her heart;
 * But if it were, doubt not her care should be
 * To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
 * And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

HORTENSIO.
 * From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!

GREMIO.
 * And me, too, good Lord!

TRANIO.
 * Husht, master! Here's some good pastime toward:
 * That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.

LUCENTIO.
 * But in the other's silence do I see
 * Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
 * Peace, Tranio!

TRANIO.
 * Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.

BAPTISTA.
 * Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
 * What I have said,—Bianca, get you in:
 * And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
 * For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.

KATHERINA.
 * A pretty peat! it is best
 * Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.

BIANCA.
 * Sister, content you in my discontent.
 * Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
 * My books and instruments shall be my company,
 * On them to look, and practise by myself.

LUCENTIO.
 * Hark, Tranio! thou mayst hear Minerva speak.

HORTENSIO.
 * Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
 * Sorry am I that our good will effects
 * Bianca's grief.

GREMIO.
 * Why will you mew her up,
 * Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
 * And make her bear the penance of her tongue?

BAPTISTA.
 * Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd.
 * Go in, Bianca.

[Exit BIANCA.]


 * And for I know she taketh most delight
 * In music, instruments, and poetry,
 * Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
 * Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,
 * Or, Signior Gremio, you, know any such,
 * Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
 * I will be very kind, and liberal
 * To mine own children in good bringing up;
 * And so, farewell. Katherina, you may stay;
 * For I have more to commune with Bianca.

[Exit.]

KATHERINA.
 * Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not?
 * What! shall I be appointed hours, as though, belike,
 * I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!

[Exit.]

GREMIO.
 * You may go to the devil's dam: your gifts are so good
 * here's none will hold you. Their love is not so great,
 * Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly
 * out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell: yet, for the love I
 * bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to
 * teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her
 * father.

HORTENSIO.
 * So will I, Signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though
 * the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon
 * advice, it toucheth us both,—that we may yet again have access to
 * our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love,—to labour
 * and effect one thing specially.

GREMIO.
 * What's that, I pray?

HORTENSIO.
 * Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.

GREMIO.
 * A husband! a devil.

HORTENSIO.
 * I say, a husband.

GREMIO.
 * I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though her
 * fatherbe very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to
 * hell?

HORTENSIO.
 * Tush, Gremio! Though it pass your patience and mine to
 * endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the
 * world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all
 * faults, and money enough.

GREMIO.
 * I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this
 * condition: to be whipp'd at the high cross every morning.

HORTENSIO.
 * Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten
 * apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it
 * shall be so far forth friendly maintained, till by helping
 * Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free
 * for a husband, and then have to't afresh. Sweet Bianca! Happy man
 * be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you,
 * Signior Gremio?

GREMIO.
 * I am agreed; and would I had given him the best horse in
 * Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed
 * her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on.

[Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO.]

TRANIO.
 * I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible
 * That love should of a sudden take such hold?

LUCENTIO.
 * O Tranio! till I found it to be true,
 * I never thought it possible or likely;
 * But see, while idly I stood looking on,
 * I found the effect of love in idleness;
 * And now in plainness do confess to thee,
 * That art to me as secret and as dear
 * As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
 * Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
 * If I achieve not this young modest girl.
 * Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst:
 * Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

TRANIO.
 * Master, it is no time to chide you now;
 * Affection is not rated from the heart:
 * If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so:
 * Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

LUCENTIO.
 * Gramercies, lad; go forward; this contents;
 * The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.

TRANIO.
 * Master, you look'd so longly on the maid.
 * Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.

LUCENTIO.
 * O, yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
 * Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
 * That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
 * When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.

TRANIO.
 * Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her sister
 * Began to scold and raise up such a storm
 * That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?

LUCENTIO.
 * Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
 * And with her breath she did perfume the air;
 * Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.

TRANIO.
 * Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance.
 * I pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid,
 * Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
 * Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,
 * That till the father rid his hands of her,
 * Master, your love must live a maid at home;
 * And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
 * Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.

LUCENTIO.
 * Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
 * But art thou not advis'd he took some care
 * To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?

TRANIO.
 * Ay, marry, am I, sir, and now 'tis plotted.

LUCENTIO.
 * I have it, Tranio.

TRANIO.
 * Master, for my hand,
 * Both our inventions meet and jump in one.

LUCENTIO.
 * Tell me thine first.

TRANIO.
 * You will be schoolmaster,
 * And undertake the teaching of the maid:
 * That's your device.

LUCENTIO.
 * It is: may it be done?

TRANIO.
 * Not possible; for who shall bear your part
 * And be in Padua here Vincentio's son;
 * Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends;
 * Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?

LUCENTIO.
 * Basta; content thee, for I have it full.
 * We have not yet been seen in any house,
 * Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces
 * For man or master: then it follows thus:
 * Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
 * Keep house and port and servants, as I should;
 * I will some other be; some Florentine,
 * Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
 * 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so: Tranio, at once
 * Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak.
 * When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
 * But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.

[They exchange habits]

TRANIO.
 * So had you need.
 * In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
 * And I am tied to be obedient;
 * For so your father charg'd me at our parting,
 * 'Be serviceable to my son,' quoth he,
 * Although I think 'twas in another sense:
 * I am content to be Lucentio,
 * Because so well I love Lucentio.

LUCENTIO.
 * Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves;
 * And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid
 * Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.
 * Here comes the rogue.

[Enter BIONDELLO.]


 * Sirrah, where have you been?

BIONDELLO.
 * Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are you?
 * Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes?
 * Or you stol'n his? or both? Pray, what's the news?

LUCENTIO.
 * Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jest,
 * And therefore frame your manners to the time.
 * Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
 * Puts my apparel and my count'nance on,
 * And I for my escape have put on his;
 * For in a quarrel since I came ashore
 * I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried.
 * Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
 * While I make way from hence to save my life.
 * You understand me?

BIONDELLO.
 * I, sir! Ne'er a whit.

LUCENTIO.
 * And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:
 * Tranio is changed to Lucentio.

BIONDELLO.
 * The better for him: would I were so too!

TRANIO.
 * So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
 * That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter.
 * But, sirrah, not for my sake but your master's, I advise
 * You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:
 * When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
 * But in all places else your master, Lucentio.

LUCENTIO.
 * Tranio, let's go. One thing more rests, that thyself execute,
 * to make one among these wooers: if thou ask me why,
 * sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.

[Exeunt.]

[The Presenters above speak.]

FIRST SERVANT.
 * My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.

SLY.
 * Yes, by Saint Anne, I do. A good matter, surely: comes there
 * any more of it?

PAGE.
 * My lord, 'tis but begun.

SLY. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady: would
 * 'twere done!

[They sit and mark.]

SCENE II. Padua. Before HORTENSIO'S house.
[Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Verona, for a while I take my leave,
 * To see my friends in Padua; but of all
 * My best beloved and approved friend,
 * Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
 * Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.

GRUMIO.
 * Knock, sir! Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused
 * your worship?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

GRUMIO.
 * Knock you here, sir! Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I
 * should knock you here, sir?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Villain, I say, knock me at this gate;
 * And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.

GRUMIO.
 * My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,
 * And then I know after who comes by the worst.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Will it not be?
 * Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it;
 * I'll try how you can sol,fa, and sing it.

[He wrings GRUMIO by the ears.]

GRUMIO.
 * Help, masters, help! my master is mad.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Now, knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!

[Enter HORTENSIO.]

HORTENSIO.
 * How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio! and my
 * good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
 * Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.

HORTENSIO.
 * Alla nostra casa ben venuto; molto honorato signor mio Petruchio.
 * Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel.

GRUMIO.
 * Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If this
 * be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look you, sir,
 * he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir: well, was it fit for
 * a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught I see,
 * two-and-thirty, a pip out?
 * Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,
 * Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

PETRUCHIO.
 * A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
 * I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
 * And could not get him for my heart to do it.

GRUMIO.
 * Knock at the gate! O heavens! Spake you not these words
 * plain: 'Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and
 * knock me soundly'? And come you now with 'knocking at the gate'?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

HORTENSIO.
 * Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge;
 * Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,
 * Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
 * And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
 * Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Such wind as scatters young men through the world
 * To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
 * Where small experience grows. But in a few,
 * Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
 * Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
 * And I have thrust myself into this maze,
 * Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;
 * Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
 * And so am come abroad to see the world.

HORTENSIO.
 * Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
 * And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
 * Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel;
 * And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,
 * And very rich: but th'art too much my friend,
 * And I'll not wish thee to her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
 * Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
 * One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
 * As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
 * Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
 * As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
 * As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse,
 * She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
 * Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
 * As are the swelling Adriatic seas:
 * I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
 * If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

GRUMIO.
 * Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is: why,
 * give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an
 * aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though
 * she has as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses: why, nothing
 * comes amiss, so money comes withal.

HORTENSIO.
 * Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,
 * I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
 * I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
 * With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;
 * Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman:
 * Her only fault,—and that is faults enough,—
 * Is, that she is intolerable curst
 * And shrewd and froward, so beyond all measure,
 * That, were my state far worser than it is,
 * I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect:
 * Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
 * For I will board her, though she chide as loud
 * As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.

HORTENSIO.
 * Her father is Baptista Minola,
 * An affable and courteous gentleman;
 * Her name is Katherina Minola,
 * Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I know her father, though I know not her;
 * And he knew my deceased father well.
 * I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
 * And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
 * To give you over at this first encounter,
 * Unless you will accompany me thither.

GRUMIO.
 * I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O' my
 * word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding
 * would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a
 * score knaves or so; why, that's nothing; and he begin once, he'll
 * rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, sir, an she stand him
 * but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so disfigure
 * her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a
 * cat. You know him not, sir.

HORTENSIO.
 * Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
 * For in Baptista's keep my treasure is:
 * He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
 * His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,
 * And her withholds from me and other more,
 * Suitors to her and rivals in my love;
 * Supposing it a thing impossible,
 * For those defects I have before rehears'd,
 * That ever Katherina will be woo'd:
 * Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
 * That none shall have access unto Bianca
 * Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.

GRUMIO.
 * Katherine the curst!
 * A title for a maid of all titles the worst.

HORTENSIO.
 * Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
 * And offer me disguis'd in sober robes,
 * To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
 * Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
 * That so I may, by this device at least
 * Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
 * And unsuspected court her by herself.

GRUMIO.
 * Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks, how the
 * young folks lay their heads together!

[Enter GREMIO, and LUCENTIO disguised, with books under his arm.]


 * Master, master, look about you: who goes there, ha?

HORTENSIO.
 * Peace, Grumio! 'tis the rival of my love. Petruchio,
 * stand by awhile.

GRUMIO.
 * A proper stripling, and an amorous!

GREMIO.
 * O! very well; I have perus'd the note.
 * Hark you, sir; I'll have them very fairly bound:
 * All books of love, see that at any hand,
 * And see you read no other lectures to her.
 * You understand me. Over and beside
 * Signior Baptista's liberality,
 * I'll mend it with a largess. Take your papers too,
 * And let me have them very well perfum'd;
 * For she is sweeter than perfume itself
 * To whom they go to. What will you read to her?

LUCENTIO.
 * Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you,
 * As for my patron, stand you so assur'd,
 * As firmly as yourself were still in place;
 * Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
 * Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.

GREMIO.
 * O! this learning, what a thing it is.

GRUMIO.
 * O! this woodcock, what an ass it is.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Peace, sirrah!

HORTENSIO.
 * Grumio, mum! God save you, Signior Gremio!

GREMIO.
 * And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
 * Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
 * I promis'd to enquire carefully
 * About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca;
 * And by good fortune I have lighted well
 * On this young man; for learning and behaviour
 * Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
 * And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.

HORTENSIO.
 * 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman
 * Hath promis'd me to help me to another,
 * A fine musician to instruct our mistress:
 * So shall I no whit be behind in duty
 * To fair Bianca, so belov'd of me.

GREMIO.
 * Belov'd of me, and that my deeds shall prove.

GRUMIO.
 * [Aside.] And that his bags shall prove.

HORTENSIO.
 * Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love:
 * Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,
 * I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.
 * Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
 * Upon agreement from us to his liking,
 * Will undertake to woo curst Katherine;
 * Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.

GREMIO.
 * So said, so done, is well.
 * Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?

PETRUCHIO.
 * I know she is an irksome brawling scold;
 * If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

GREMIO.
 * No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Born in Verona, old Antonio's son.
 * My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
 * And I do hope good days and long to see.

GREMIO.
 * O Sir, such a life, with such a wife, were strange!
 * But if you have a stomach, to't i' God's name;
 * You shall have me assisting you in all.
 * But will you woo this wild-cat?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Will I live?

GRUMIO.
 * Will he woo her? Ay, or I'll hang her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why came I hither but to that intent?
 * Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
 * Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
 * Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
 * Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
 * Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
 * And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
 * Have I not in a pitched battle heard
 * Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
 * And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
 * That gives not half so great a blow to hear
 * As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
 * Tush, tush! fear boys with bugs.

GRUMIO.
 * [Aside] For he fears none.

GREMIO.
 * Hortensio, hark:
 * This gentleman is happily arriv'd,
 * My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.

HORTENSIO.
 * I promis'd we would be contributors,
 * And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er.

GREMIO.
 * And so we will, provided that he win her.

GRUMIO.
 * I would I were as sure of a good dinner.

[Enter TRANIO, bravely apparelled;and BIONDELLO.]

TRANIO.
 * Gentlemen, God save you! If I may be bold,
 * Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way
 * To the house of Signior Baptista Minola?

BIONDELLO.
 * He that has the two fair daughters; is't he you mean?

TRANIO.
 * Even he, Biondello!

GREMIO.
 * Hark you, sir, you mean not her to—

TRANIO.
 * Perhaps him and her, sir; what have you to do?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.

TRANIO.
 * I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let's away.

LUCENTIO.
 * [Aside] Well begun, Tranio.

HORTENSIO.
 * Sir, a word ere you go.
 * Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no?

TRANIO.
 * And if I be, sir, is it any offence?

GREMIO.
 * No; if without more words you will get you hence.

TRANIO.
 * Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
 * For me as for you?

GREMIO.
 * But so is not she.

TRANIO.
 * For what reason, I beseech you?

GREMIO.
 * For this reason, if you'll know,
 * That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio.

HORTENSIO.
 * That she's the chosen of Signior Hortensio.

TRANIO.
 * Softly, my masters! If you be gentlemen,
 * Do me this right; hear me with patience.
 * Baptista is a noble gentleman,
 * To whom my father is not all unknown;
 * And were his daughter fairer than she is,
 * She may more suitors have, and me for one.
 * Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers;
 * Then well one more may fair Bianca have;
 * And so she shall: Lucentio shall make one,
 * Though Paris came in hope to speed alone.

GREMIO.
 * What!this gentleman will out-talk us all.

LUCENTIO.
 * Sir, give him head; I know he'll prove a jade.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Hortensio, to what end are all these words?

HORTENSIO.
 * Sir, let me be so bold as ask you,
 * Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter?

TRANIO.
 * No, sir, but hear I do that he hath two,
 * The one as famous for a scolding tongue
 * As is the other for beauteous modesty.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.

GREMIO.
 * Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
 * And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Sir, understand you this of me, in sooth:
 * The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for,
 * Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
 * And will not promise her to any man
 * Until the elder sister first be wed;
 * The younger then is free, and not before.

TRANIO.
 * If it be so, sir, that you are the man
 * Must stead us all, and me amongst the rest;
 * And if you break the ice, and do this feat,
 * Achieve the elder, set the younger free
 * For our access, whose hap shall be to have her
 * Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.

HORTENSIO.
 * Sir, you say well, and well you do conceive;
 * And since you do profess to be a suitor,
 * You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
 * To whom we all rest generally beholding.

TRANIO.
 * Sir, I shall not be slack; in sign whereof,
 * Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
 * And quaff carouses to our mistress' health;
 * And do as adversaries do in law,
 * Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

GRUMIO, BIONDELLO.
 * O excellent motion! Fellows, let's be gone.

HORTENSIO.
 * The motion's good indeed, and be it so:—
 * Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. Padua. A room in BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter KATHERINA and BIANCA.]

BIANCA.
 * Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
 * To make a bondmaid and a slave of me;
 * That I disdain; but for these other gawds,
 * Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself,
 * Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
 * Or what you will command me will I do,
 * So well I know my duty to my elders.

KATHERINA.
 * Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
 * Whom thou lov'st best: see thou dissemble not.

BIANCA.
 * Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
 * I never yet beheld that special face
 * Which I could fancy more than any other.

KATHERINA.
 * Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?

BIANCA.
 * If you affect him, sister, here I swear
 * I'll plead for you myself but you shall have him.

KATHERINA.
 * O! then, belike, you fancy riches more:
 * You will have Gremio to keep you fair.

BIANCA.
 * Is it for him you do envy me so?
 * Nay, then you jest; and now I well perceive
 * You have but jested with me all this while:
 * I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.

KATHERINA.
 * If that be jest, then an the rest was so.

[Strikes her.]

[Enter BAPTISTA.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, how now, dame! Whence grows this insolence?
 * Bianca, stand aside. Poor girl! she weeps.
 * Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
 * For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
 * Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
 * When did she cross thee with a bitter word?

KATHERINA.
 * Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd.

[Flies after BIANCA.]

BAPTISTA.
 * What! in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.

[Exit BIANCA.]

KATHERINA.
 * What! will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
 * She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
 * I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,
 * And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
 * Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep
 * Till I can find occasion of revenge.

[Exit.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I?
 * But who comes here?

[Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man; PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO, with BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books.]

GREMIO.
 * Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.

BAPTISTA.
 * Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen!

PETRUCHIO.
 * And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
 * Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?

BAPTISTA.
 * I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katherina.

GREMIO.
 * You are too blunt: go to it orderly.

PETRUCHIO.
 * You wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.
 * I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
 * That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
 * Her affability and bashful modesty,
 * Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
 * Am bold to show myself a forward guest
 * Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
 * Of that report which I so oft have heard.
 * And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
 * I do present you with a man of mine,

[Presenting HORTENSIO.]


 * Cunning in music and the mathematics,
 * To instruct her fully in those sciences,
 * Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
 * Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:
 * His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

BAPTISTA.
 * You're welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
 * But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
 * She is not for your turn, the more my grief.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I see you do not mean to part with her;
 * Or else you like not of my company.

BAPTISTA.
 * Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
 * Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son;
 * A man well known throughout all Italy.

BAPTISTA.
 * I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.

GREMIO.
 * Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
 * Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too.
 * Backare! you are marvellous forward.

PETRUCHIO.
 * O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.

GREMIO.
 * I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.
 * Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To
 * express the like kindness, myself, that have been more kindly
 * beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young
 * scholar,

[Presenting LUCENTIO.]
 * that has been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek,
 * Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and
 * mathematics. His name is Cambio; pray accept his service.

BAPTISTA.
 * A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio; welcome, good Cambio.—

[To TRANIO.]
 * But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger: may
 * I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

TRANIO.
 * Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own,
 * That, being a stranger in this city here,
 * Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
 * Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
 * Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
 * In the preferment of the eldest sister.
 * This liberty is all that I request,
 * That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
 * I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo,
 * And free access and favour as the rest:
 * And, toward the education of your daughters,
 * I here bestow a simple instrument,
 * And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:
 * If you accept them, then their worth is great.

BAPTISTA.
 * Lucentio is your name, of whence, I pray?

TRANIO.
 * Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.

BAPTISTA.
 * A mighty man of Pisa: by report
 * I know him well: you are very welcome, sir.
 * [To HORTENSIO.] Take you the lute,
 * [To LUCENTIO.] and you the set of books;
 * You shall go see your pupils presently.
 * Holla, within!

[Enter a SERVANT.]


 * Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
 * To my two daughters, and tell them both
 * These are their tutors: bid them use them well.

[Exit SERVANT, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO.]


 * We will go walk a little in the orchard,
 * And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
 * And so I pray you all to think yourselves.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
 * And every day I cannot come to woo.
 * You knew my father well, and in him me,
 * Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
 * Which I have bettered rather than decreas'd:
 * Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
 * What dowry shall I have with her to wife?

BAPTISTA.
 * After my death, the one half of my lands,
 * And in possession twenty thousand crowns.

PETRUCHIO.
 * And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of
 * Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
 * In all my lands and leases whatsoever.
 * Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
 * That covenants may be kept on either hand.

BAPTISTA.
 * Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
 * That is, her love; for that is all in all.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
 * I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
 * And where two raging fires meet together,
 * They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
 * Though little fire grows great with little wind,
 * Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all;
 * So I to her, and so she yields to me;
 * For I am rough and woo not like a babe.

BAPTISTA.
 * Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!
 * But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
 * That shake not though they blow perpetually.

[Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broke.]

BAPTISTA.
 * How now, my friend! Why dost thou look so pale?

HORTENSIO.
 * For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.

BAPTISTA.
 * What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

HORTENSIO.
 * I think she'll sooner prove a soldier:
 * Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?

HORTENSIO.
 * Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
 * I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
 * And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
 * When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
 * 'Frets, call you these?' quoth she 'I'll fume with them';
 * And with that word she struck me on the head,
 * And through the instrument my pate made way;
 * And there I stood amazed for a while,
 * As on a pillory, looking through the lute;
 * While she did call me rascal fiddler,
 * And twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms,
 * As she had studied to misuse me so.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench!
 * I love her ten times more than e'er I did:
 * O! how I long to have some chat with her!

BAPTISTA.
 * [To HORTENSIO.] Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited;
 * Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
 * She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.
 * Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
 * Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?

PETRUCHIO.
 * I pray you do. I will attend her here.

[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, and HORTENSIO.]


 * And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
 * Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain
 * She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:
 * Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
 * As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
 * Say she be mute, and will not speak a word;
 * Then I'll commend her volubility,
 * And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:
 * If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
 * As though she bid me stay by her a week:
 * If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
 * When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
 * But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.

[Enter KATHERINA.]


 * Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.

KATHERINA.
 * Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
 * They call me Katherine that do talk of me.

PETRUCHIO.
 * You lie, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
 * And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
 * But, Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
 * Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
 * For dainties are all cates: and therefore, Kate,
 * Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
 * Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
 * Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,—
 * Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,—
 * Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.

KATHERINA.
 * Mov'd! in good time: let him that mov'd you hither
 * Remove you hence. I knew you at the first,
 * You were a moveable.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, what's a moveable?

KATHERINA.
 * A joint-stool.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.

KATHERINA.
 * Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Women are made to bear, and so are you.

KATHERINA.
 * No such jade as bear you, if me you mean.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Alas! good Kate, I will not burden thee;
 * For, knowing thee to be but young and light,—

KATHERINA.
 * Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
 * And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Should be! should buz!

KATHERINA. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.

PETRUCHIO.
 * O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

KATHERINA.
 * Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.

KATHERINA.
 * If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

PETRUCHIO.
 * My remedy is, then, to pluck it out.

KATHERINA.
 * Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
 * In his tail.

KATHERINA.
 * In his tongue.

PETRUCHIO. Whose tongue?

KATHERINA.
 * Yours, if you talk of tales; and so farewell.

PETRUCHIO.
 * What! with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
 * Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

KATHERINA.
 * That I'll try.

[Striking him.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * I swear I'll cuff you if you strike again.

KATHERINA.
 * So may you lose your arms:
 * If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
 * And if no gentleman, why then no arms.

PETRUCHIO.
 * A herald, Kate? O! put me in thy books.

KATHERINA.
 * What is your crest? a coxcomb?

PETRUCHIO.
 * A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.

KATHERINA.
 * No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.

KATHERINA.
 * It is my fashion when I see a crab.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not sour.

KATHERINA.
 * There is, there is.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Then show it me.

KATHERINA.
 * Had I a glass I would.

PETRUCHIO.
 * What, you mean my face?

KATHERINA.
 * Well aim'd of such a young one.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.

KATHERINA.
 * Yet you are wither'd.

PETRUCHIO.
 * 'Tis with cares.

KATHERINA.
 * I care not.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you 'scape not so.

KATHERINA.
 * I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.

PETRUCHIO.
 * No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle.
 * 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
 * And now I find report a very liar;
 * For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
 * But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers.
 * Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
 * Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
 * Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
 * But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers;
 * With gentle conference, soft and affable.
 * Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
 * O sland'rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
 * Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
 * As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
 * O! let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.

KATHERINA.
 * Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Did ever Dian so become a grove
 * As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
 * O! be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
 * And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!

KATHERINA.
 * Where did you study all this goodly speech?

PETRUCHIO.
 * It is extempore, from my mother-wit.

KATHERINA.
 * A witty mother! witless else her son.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Am I not wise?

KATHERINA.
 * Yes; keep you warm.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed;
 * And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
 * Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
 * That you shall be my wife your dowry 'greed on;
 * And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
 * Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
 * For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,—
 * Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,—
 * Thou must be married to no man but me;
 * For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
 * And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
 * Conformable as other household Kates.
 * Here comes your father. Never make denial;
 * I must and will have Katherine to my wife.

[Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?

PETRUCHIO.
 * How but well, sir? how but well?
 * It were impossible I should speed amiss.

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, how now, daughter Katherine, in your dumps?

KATHERINA.
 * Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
 * You have show'd a tender fatherly regard
 * To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
 * A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
 * That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world
 * That talk'd of her have talk'd amiss of her:
 * If she be curst, it is for policy,
 * For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
 * She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
 * For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
 * And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;
 * And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together
 * That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

KATHERINA.
 * I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

GREMIO.
 * Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee hang'd first.

TRANIO.
 * Is this your speeding? Nay, then good-night our part!

PETRUCHIO.
 * Be patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself;
 * If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
 * 'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
 * That she shall still be curst in company.
 * I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
 * How much she loves me: O! the kindest Kate
 * She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
 * She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
 * That in a twink she won me to her love.
 * O! you are novices: 'tis a world to see,
 * How tame, when men and women are alone,
 * A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
 * Give me thy hand, Kate; I will unto Venice,
 * To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
 * Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
 * I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine.

BAPTISTA.
 * I know not what to say; but give me your hands.
 * God send you joy, Petruchio! 'Tis a match.

GREMIO, TRANIO.
 * Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu.
 * I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace;
 * We will have rings and things, and fine array;
 * And kiss me, Kate; we will be married o' Sunday.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA, severally.]

GREMIO.
 * Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?

BAPTISTA.
 * Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
 * And venture madly on a desperate mart.

TRANIO.
 * 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
 * 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

BAPTISTA.
 * The gain I seek is, quiet in the match.

GREMIO.
 * No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
 * But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter:
 * Now is the day we long have looked for;
 * I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

TRANIO.
 * And I am one that love Bianca more
 * Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess.

GREMIO.
 * Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.

TRANIO.
 * Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.

GREMIO.
 * But thine doth fry.
 * Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.

TRANIO.
 * But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.

BAPTISTA.
 * Content you, gentlemen; I'll compound this strife:
 * 'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
 * That can assure my daughter greatest dower
 * Shall have my Bianca's love.
 * Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?

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 needle-work;
 * 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 to-morrow 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 any one
 * 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.]

SCENE I. Padua. A room in BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.]

LUCENTIO.
 * Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
 * Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
 * Her sister Katherine welcome'd you withal?

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

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.—

[HORTENSIO plays.]


 * O fie! the treble jars.

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

BIANCA.
 * Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat Simois,' I
 * know you not; 'hic est Sigeia tellus,' I trust you not; 'Hic
 * steterat Priami,' take heed he hear us not; 'regia,' presume not;
 * 'celsa senis,' despair not.

HORTENSIO.
 * Madam, 'tis now in tune.

LUCENTIO.
 * All but the base.

HORTENSIO.
 * The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
 * How fiery and forward our pedant is!
 * [Aside] Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
 * Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.

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

LUCENTIO.
 * Mistrust it not; for sure, AEacides
 * Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.

BIANCA.
 * I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
 * I should be arguing still upon that doubt;
 * But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you.
 * Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
 * That I have been thus pleasant with you both.

HORTENSIO.
 * [To LUCENTIO] You may go walk and give me leave awhile;
 * My lessons make no music in three parts.

LUCENTIO.
 * Are you so formal, sir?
 * [Aside] Well, I must wait,
 * And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
 * Our fine musician groweth amorous.

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

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

HORTENSIO.
 * Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.

BIANCA.
 * 'Gamut' I am, the ground of all accord,
 * 'A re,' to plead Hortensio's passion;
 * 'B mi,' Bianca, take him for thy lord,
 * 'C fa ut,' that loves with all affection:
 * 'D sol re,' one clef, two notes have I
 * 'E la mi,' show pity or I die.
 * Call you this gamut? Tut, I like it not:
 * Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,
 * To change true rules for odd inventions.

[Enter a SERVANT.]

SERVANT.
 * Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,
 * And help to dress your sister's chamber up:
 * You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.

BIANCA.
 * Farewell, sweet masters, both: I must be gone.

[Exeunt BIANCA and SERVANT.]

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

[Exit.]

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

[Exit.]

SCENE II. The same. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and ATTENDANTS.]

BAPTISTA. [To TRANIO.]
 * Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
 * That Katherine and Petruchio should be married,
 * And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
 * What will be said? What mockery will it be
 * To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
 * To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
 * What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

KATHERINA.
 * No shame but mine; I must, forsooth, be forc'd
 * To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
 * Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen;
 * Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
 * I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
 * Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour;
 * And to be noted for a merry man,
 * He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
 * Make friends invited, and proclaim the banns;
 * Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
 * Now must the world point at poor Katherine,
 * And say 'Lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
 * If it would please him come and marry her.'

TRANIO.
 * Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista too.
 * Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
 * Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
 * Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
 * Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

KATHERINA.
 * Would Katherine had never seen him though!

[Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Go, girl, I cannot blame thee now to weep,
 * For such an injury would vex a very saint;
 * Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

[Enter BIONDELLO.]


 * Master, master! News! old news, and such news as you never heard of!

BAPTISTA.
 * Is it new and old too? How may that be?

BIONDELLO.
 * Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?

BAPTISTA.
 * Is he come?

BIONDELLO.
 * Why, no, sir.

BAPTISTA.
 * What then?

BIONDELLO.
 * He is coming.

BAPTISTA.
 * When will he be here?

BIONDELLO.
 * When he stands where I am and sees you there.

TRANIO.
 * But, say, what to thine old news?

BIONDELLO.
 * Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat and an old
 * jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turned; a pair of boots
 * that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced; an old
 * rusty sword ta'en out of the town armoury, with a broken hilt,
 * and chapeless; with two broken points: his horse hipped with an
 * old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides, possessed
 * with the glanders and like to mose in the chine; troubled with
 * the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped
 * with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
 * stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, swayed in
 * the back and shoulder-shotten; near-legged before, and with a
 * half-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather, which,
 * being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often
 * burst, and now repaired with knots; one girth six times pieced,
 * and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her
 * name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with
 * pack-thread.

BAPTISTA.
 * Who comes with him?

BIONDELLO.
 * O, sir! his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like
 * the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey boot-hose
 * on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and
 * the 'humour of forty fancies' prick'd in't for a feather: a
 * monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
 * footboy or a gentleman's lackey.

TRANIO.
 * 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
 * Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd.

BAPTISTA.
 * I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.

BIONDELLO.
 * Why, sir, he comes not.

BAPTISTA.
 * Didst thou not say he comes?

BIONDELLO.
 * Who? that Petruchio came?

BAPTISTA.
 * Ay, that Petruchio came.

BIONDELLO.
 * No, sir; I say his horse comes, with him on his back.

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, that's all one.

BIONDELLO.
 * Nay, by Saint Jamy,
 * I hold you a penny,
 * A horse and a man
 * Is more than one,
 * And yet not many.

[Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come, where be these gallants? Who is at home?

BAPTISTA.
 * You are welcome, sir.

PETRUCHIO.
 * And yet I come not well.

BAPTISTA.
 * And yet you halt not.

TRANIO.
 * Not so well apparell'd
 * As I wish you were.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Were it better, I should rush in thus.
 * But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?
 * How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown;
 * And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
 * As if they saw some wondrous monument,
 * Some comet or unusual prodigy?

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
 * First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
 * Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
 * Fie! doff this habit, shame to your estate,
 * An eye-sore to our solemn festival.

TRANIO.
 * And tell us what occasion of import
 * Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
 * And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
 * Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
 * Though in some part enforced to digress;
 * Which at more leisure I will so excuse
 * As you shall well be satisfied withal.
 * But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
 * The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.

TRANIO.
 * See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
 * Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.

BAPTISTA.
 * But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words;
 * To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
 * Could I repair what she will wear in me
 * As I can change these poor accoutrements,
 * 'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
 * But what a fool am I to chat with you
 * When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
 * And seal the title with a lovely kiss!

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMIO, and BIODELLO.]

TRANIO.
 * He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
 * We will persuade him, be it possible,
 * To put on better ere he go to church.

BAPTISTA.
 * I'll after him and see the event of this.

[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO and ATTENDENTS.]

TRANIO.
 * But to her love concerneth us to add
 * Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
 * As I before imparted to your worship,
 * I am to get a man,—whate'er he be
 * It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn,—
 * And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
 * And make assurance here in Padua,
 * Of greater sums than I have promised.
 * So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
 * And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

LUCENTIO.
 * Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster
 * Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
 * 'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
 * Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
 * I'll keep mine own despite of all the world.

TRANIO.
 * That by degrees we mean to look into,
 * And watch our vantage in this business.
 * We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
 * The narrow-prying father, Minola,
 * The quaint musician, amorous Licio;
 * All for my master's sake, Lucentio.

[Re-enter GREMIO.]


 * Signior Gremio, came you from the church?

GREMIO.
 * As willingly as e'er I came from school.

TRANIO.
 * And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?

GREMIO.
 * A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed,
 * A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.

TRANIO.
 * Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible.

GREMIO.
 * Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.

TRANIO.
 * Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.

GREMIO.
 * Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him.
 * I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
 * Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
 * 'Ay, by gogs-wouns' quoth he, and swore so loud
 * That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
 * And as he stoop'd again to take it up,
 * The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
 * That down fell priest and book, and book and priest:
 * 'Now take them up,' quoth he 'if any list.'

TRANIO.
 * What said the wench, when he rose again?

GREMIO.
 * Trembled and shook, for why, he stamp'd and swore
 * As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
 * But after many ceremonies done,
 * He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
 * He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
 * After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel,
 * And threw the sops all in the sexton's face,
 * Having no other reason
 * But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
 * And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
 * This done, he took the bride about the neck,
 * And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
 * That at the parting all the church did echo.
 * And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
 * And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
 * Such a mad marriage never was before.
 * Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.

[Music.]

[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO, GRUMIO, and Train.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
 * I know you think to dine with me to-day,
 * And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer
 * But so it is- my haste doth call me hence,
 * And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

BAPTISTA.
 * Is't possible you will away to-night?

PETRUCHIO.
 * I must away to-day before night come.
 * Make it no wonder: if you knew my business,
 * You would entreat me rather go than stay.
 * And, honest company, I thank you all,
 * That have beheld me give away myself
 * To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
 * Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
 * For I must hence; and farewell to you all.

TRANIO.
 * Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.

PETRUCHIO.
 * It may not be.

GREMIO.
 * Let me entreat you.

PETRUCHIO.
 * It cannot be.

KATHERINA.
 * Let me entreat you.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I am content.

KATHERINA.
 * Are you content to stay?

PETRUCHIO.
 * I am content you shall entreat me stay;
 * But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.

KATHERINA.
 * Now, if you love me, stay.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Grumio, my horse!

GRUMIO.
 * Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses.

KATHERINA.
 * Nay, then,
 * Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
 * No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
 * The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
 * You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
 * For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
 * 'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom
 * That take it on you at the first so roundly.

PETRUCHIO.
 * O Kate! content thee: prithee be not angry.

KATHERINA.
 * I will be angry: what hast thou to do?
 * Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.

GREMIO.
 * Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.

KATHERINA.
 * Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
 * I see a woman may be made a fool,
 * If she had not a spirit to resist.

PETRUCHIO.
 * They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
 * Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
 * Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
 * Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,
 * Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves:
 * But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
 * Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
 * I will be master of what is mine own.
 * She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,
 * My household stuff, my field, my barn,
 * My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything;
 * And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
 * I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
 * That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
 * Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
 * Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
 * Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
 * I'll buckler thee against a million.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and GRUMIO.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.

GREMIO.
 * Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.

TRANIO.
 * Of all mad matches, never was the like.

LUCENTIO.
 * Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?

BIANCA.
 * That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.

GREMIO.
 * I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

BAPTISTA.
 * Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants
 * For to supply the places at the table,
 * You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
 * Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place;
 * And let Bianca take her sister's room.

TRANIO.
 * Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?

BAPTISTA.
 * She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. A hall in PETRUCHIO'S country house.
[Enter GRUMIO.]

GRUMIO.
 * Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all
 * foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so ray'd? Was
 * ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are
 * coming after to warm them. Now, were not I a little pot and soon
 * hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof
 * of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire to
 * thaw me. But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself; for,
 * considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold.
 * Holla, ho! Curtis!

[Enter CURTIS.]

CURTIS.
 * Who is that calls so coldly?

GRUMIO.
 * A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide from my
 * shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my head and my
 * neck. A fire, good Curtis.

CURTIS.
 * Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?

GRUMIO.
 * O, ay! Curtis, ay; and therefore fire, fire; cast on no
 * water.

CURTIS.
 * Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?

GRUMIO.
 * She was, good Curtis, before this frost; but thou knowest
 * winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tamed my old
 * master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.

CURTIS.
 * Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.

GRUMIO.
 * Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot; and so long
 * am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain
 * on thee to our mistress, whose hand,—she being now at hand,—
 * thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy
 * hot office?

CURTIS.
 * I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?

GRUMIO.
 * A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and
 * therefore fire. Do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and
 * mistress are almost frozen to death.

CURTIS.
 * There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news?

GRUMIO.
 * Why, 'Jack boy! ho, boy!' and as much news as thou wilt.

CURTIS.
 * Come, you are so full of cony-catching.

GRUMIO.
 * Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold.
 * Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes
 * strewed, cobwebs swept, the serving-men in their new fustian,
 * their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on?
 * Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, and carpets
 * laid, and everything in order?

CURTIS.
 * All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news?

GRUMIO.
 * First, know my horse is tired; my master and mistress fallen out.

CURTIS.
 * How?

GRUMIO.
 * Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.

CURTIS.
 * Let's ha't, good Grumio.

GRUMIO.
 * Lend thine ear.

CURTIS.
 * Here.

GRUMIO.
 * [Striking him.] There.

CURTIS.
 * This 'tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.

GRUMIO.
 * And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale; and this cuff
 * was but to knock at your car and beseech listening. Now I begin:
 * Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my
 * mistress,—

CURTIS.
 * Both of one horse?

GRUMIO.
 * What's that to thee?

CURTIS.
 * Why, a horse.

GRUMIO.
 * Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me, thou
 * shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse;
 * thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was
 * bemoiled; how he left her with the horse upon her; how he beat me
 * because her horse stumbled; how she waded through the dirt to
 * pluck him off me: how he swore; how she prayed, that never prayed
 * before; how I cried; how the horses ran away; how her bridle was
 * burst; how I lost my crupper; with many things of worthy memory,
 * which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienced to
 * thy grave.

CURTIS.
 * By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.

GRUMIO.
 * Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find
 * when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth
 * Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the
 * rest; let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brush'd
 * and their garters of an indifferent knit; let them curtsy with
 * their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair of my master's
 * horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?

CURTIS.
 * They are.

GRUMIO.
 * Call them forth.

CURTIS.
 * Do you hear? ho! You must meet my master to countenance my
 * mistress.

GRUMIO.
 * Why, she hath a face of her own.

CURTIS.
 * Who knows not that?

GRUMIO.
 * Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.

CURTIS.
 * I call them forth to credit her.

GRUMIO.
 * Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.

[Enter several SERVANTS.]

NATHANIEL.
 * Welcome home, Grumio!

PHILIP.
 * How now, Grumio!

JOSEPH.
 * What, Grumio!

NICHOLAS.
 * Fellow Grumio!

NATHANIEL.
 * How now, old lad!

GRUMIO.
 * Welcome, you; how now, you; what, you; fellow, you;
 * and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all
 * ready, and all things neat?

NATHANIEL.
 * All things is ready. How near is our master?

GRUMIO.
 * E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not,—
 * Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.

[Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Where be these knaves? What! no man at door
 * To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
 * Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?—

ALL SERVANTS.
 * Here, here, sir; here, sir.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
 * You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
 * What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
 * Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

GRUMIO.
 * Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

PETRUCHIO.
 * You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
 * Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
 * And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?

GRUMIO.
 * Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
 * And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel;
 * There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
 * And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing;
 * There was none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;
 * The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
 * Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.

[Exeunt some of the SERVANTS.]


 * Where is the life that late I led?
 * Where are those—? Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
 * Soud, soud, soud, soud!

[Re-enter SERVANTS with supper.]


 * Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.—
 * Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains! when?
 * It was the friar of orders grey,
 * As he forth walked on his way:
 * Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:

[Strikes him.]


 * Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
 * Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
 * Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence
 * And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:

[Exit SERVANT.]


 * One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
 * Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
 * Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.—

[SERVANT lets the ewer fall. PETRUCHIO strikes him.]


 * You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?

KATHERINA.
 * Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.

PETRUCHIO.
 * A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
 * Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
 * Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?—
 * What's this? Mutton?

FIRST SERVANT.
 * Ay.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Who brought it?

PETER.
 * I.

PETRUCHIO.
 * 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
 * What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
 * How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
 * And serve it thus to me that love it not?

[Throws the meat, etc., at them.]


 * There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.
 * You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
 * What! do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

KATHERINA.
 * I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
 * The meat was well, if you were so contented.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
 * And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
 * For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
 * And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
 * Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
 * Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
 * Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended.
 * And for this night we'll fast for company:
 * Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and CURTIS.]

NATHANIEL.
 * Peter, didst ever see the like?

PETER.
 * He kills her in her own humour.

[Re-enter CURTIS.]

GRUMIO.
 * Where is he?

CURTIS.
 * In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her;
 * And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,
 * Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
 * And sits as one new risen from a dream.
 * Away, away! for he is coming hither.

[Exeunt.]

[Re-enter PETRUCHIO.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
 * And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
 * My falcon now is sharp and passing empty.
 * And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg'd,
 * For then she never looks upon her lure.
 * Another way I have to man my haggard,
 * To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
 * That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
 * That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.
 * She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
 * Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
 * As with the meat, some undeserved fault
 * I'll find about the making of the bed;
 * And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
 * This way the coverlet, another way the sheets;
 * Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
 * That all is done in reverend care of her;
 * And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night:
 * And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl,
 * And with the clamour keep her still awake.
 * This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
 * And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
 * He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
 * Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show.

[Exit.]

SCENE II. Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter TRANIO and HORTENSIO.]

TRANIO.
 * Is 't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
 * Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
 * I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.

HORTENSIO.
 * Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
 * Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.

[They stand aside.]

[Enter BIANCA and LUCENTIO.]

LUCENTIO.
 * Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?

BIANCA.
 * What, master, read you, First resolve me that.

LUCENTIO.
 * I read that I profess, the Art to Love.

BIANCA.
 * And may you prove, sir, master of your art!

LUCENTIO.
 * While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart.

[They retire.]

HORTENSIO.
 * Quick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray,
 * You that durst swear that your Mistress Bianca
 * Lov'd none in the world so well as Lucentio.

TRANIO.
 * O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
 * I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

HORTENSIO.
 * Mistake no more; I am not Licio.
 * Nor a musician as I seem to be;
 * But one that scorn to live in this disguise
 * For such a one as leaves a gentleman
 * And makes a god of such a cullion:
 * Know, sir, that I am call'd Hortensio.

TRANIO.
 * Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
 * Of your entire affection to Bianca;
 * And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
 * I will with you, if you be so contented,
 * Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.

HORTENSIO.
 * See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
 * Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
 * Never to woo her more, but do forswear her,
 * As one unworthy all the former favours
 * That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

TRANIO.
 * And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
 * Never to marry with her though she would entreat;
 * Fie on her! See how beastly she doth court him!

HORTENSIO.
 * Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
 * For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
 * I will be married to a wealtlly widow
 * Ere three days pass, which hath as long lov'd me
 * As I have lov'd this proud disdainful haggard.
 * And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
 * Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
 * Shall win my love; and so I take my leave,
 * In resolution as I swore before.

[Exit HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and BIANCA advance.]

TRANIO.
 * Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
 * As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!
 * Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love,
 * And have forsworn you with Hortensio.

BIANCA.
 * Tranio, you jest; but have you both forsworn me?

TRANIO.
 * Mistress, we have.

LUCENTIO.
 * Then we are rid of Licio.

TRANIO.
 * I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
 * That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.

BIANCA.
 * God give him joy!

TRANIO.
 * Ay, and he'll tame her.

BIANCA.
 * He says so, Tranio.

TRANIO.
 * Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.

BIANCA.
 * The taming-school! What, is there such a place?

TRANIO.
 * Ay, mistress; and Petruchio is the master,
 * That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
 * To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.

[Enter BIONDELLO, running.]

BIONDELLO.
 * O master, master! I have watch'd so long
 * That I am dog-weary; but at last I spied
 * An ancient angel coming down the hill
 * Will serve the turn.

TRANIO.
 * What is he, Biondello?

BIONDELLO.
 * Master, a mercatante or a pedant,
 * I know not what; but formal in apparel,
 * In gait and countenance surely like a father.

LUCENTIO.
 * And what of him, Tranio?

TRANIO.
 * If he be credulous and trust my tale,
 * I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
 * And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
 * As if he were the right Vincentio.
 * Take in your love, and then let me alone.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA.]

[Enter a PEDANT.]

PEDANT.
 * God save you, sir!

TRANIO.
 * And you, sir! you are welcome.
 * Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?

PEDANT.
 * Sir, at the farthest for a week or two;
 * But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
 * And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.

TRANIO.
 * What countryman, I pray?

PEDANT.
 * Of Mantua.

TRANIO.
 * Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid,
 * And come to Padua, careless of your life!

PEDANT.
 * My life, sir! How, I pray? for that goes hard.

TRANIO.
 * 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
 * To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
 * Your ships are stay'd at Venice; and the duke,—
 * For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,—
 * Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly.
 * 'Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come
 * You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.

PEDANT.
 * Alas, sir! it is worse for me than so;
 * For I have bills for money by exchange
 * From Florence, and must here deliver them.

TRANIO.
 * Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
 * This will I do, and this I will advise you:
 * First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?

PEDANT.
 * Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
 * Pisa renowned for grave citizens.

TRANIO.
 * Among them know you one Vincentio?

PEDANT.
 * I know him not, but I have heard of him,
 * A merchant of incomparable wealth.

TRANIO.
 * He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
 * In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.

BIONDELLO.
 * [Aside.] As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.

TRANIO.
 * To save your life in this extremity,
 * This favour will I do you for his sake;
 * And think it not the worst of all your fortunes
 * That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
 * His name and credit shall you undertake,
 * And in my house you shall be friendly lodg'd;
 * Look that you take upon you as you should!
 * You understand me, sir; so shall you stay
 * Till you have done your business in the city.
 * If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.

PEDANT.
 * O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever
 * The patron of my life and liberty.

TRANIO.
 * Then go with me to make the matter good.
 * This, by the way, I let you understand:
 * My father is here look'd for every day
 * To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
 * 'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
 * In all these circumstances I'll instruct you.
 * Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
[Enter KATHERINA and GRUMIO.]

GRUMIO.
 * No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.

KATHERINA.
 * The more my wrong, the more his spite appears.
 * What, did he marry me to famish me?
 * Beggars that come unto my father's door
 * Upon entreaty have a present alms;
 * If not, elsewhere they meet with charity;
 * But I, who never knew how to entreat,
 * Nor never needed that I should entreat,
 * Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
 * With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed.
 * And that which spites me more than all these wants,
 * He does it under name of perfect love;
 * As who should say, if I should sleep or eat
 * 'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death.
 * I prithee go and get me some repast;
 * I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

GRUMIO.
 * What say you to a neat's foot?

KATHERINA.
 * 'Tis passing good; I prithee let me have it.

GRUMIO.
 * I fear it is too choleric a meat.
 * How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?

KATHERINA.
 * I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

GRUMIO.
 * I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
 * What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?

KATHERINA.
 * A dish that I do love to feed upon.

GRUMIO.
 * Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

KATHERINA.
 * Why then the beef, and let the mustard rest.

GRUMIO.
 * Nay, then I will not: you shall have the mustard,
 * Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

KATHERINA.
 * Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.

GRUMIO.
 * Why then the mustard without the beef.

KATHERINA.
 * Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,

[Beats him.]


 * That feed'st me with the very name of meat.
 * Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you
 * That triumph thus upon my misery!
 * Go, get thee gone, I say.

[Enter PETRUCHIO with a dish of meat; and HORTENSIO.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?

HORTENSIO.
 * Mistress, what cheer?

KATHERINA.
 * Faith, as cold as can be.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
 * Here, love; thou seest how diligent I am,
 * To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee:

[Sets the dish on a table.]


 * I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
 * What! not a word? Nay, then thou lov'st it not,
 * And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
 * Here, take away this dish.

KATHERINA.
 * I pray you, let it stand.

PETRUCHIO.
 * The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
 * And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.

KATHERINA.
 * I thank you, sir.

HORTENSIO.
 * Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
 * Come, Mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

PETRUCHIO.
 * [Aside.] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.
 * Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
 * Kate, eat apace: and now, my honey love,
 * Will we return unto thy father's house
 * And revel it as bravely as the best,
 * With silken coats and caps, and golden rings,
 * With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things;
 * With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
 * With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.
 * What! hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure,
 * To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.

[Enter TAILOR.]


 * Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
 * Lay forth the gown.—

[Enter HABERDASHER.]


 * What news with you, sir?

HABERDASHER.
 * Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
 * A velvet dish: fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:
 * Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
 * A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap:
 * Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.

KATHERINA.
 * I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time,
 * And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

PETRUCHIO.
 * When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
 * And not till then.

HORTENSIO.
 * [Aside] That will not be in haste.

KATHERINA.
 * Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
 * And speak I will. I am no child, no babe.
 * Your betters have endur'd me say my mind,
 * And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
 * My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
 * Or else my heart, concealing it, will break;
 * And rather than it shall, I will be free
 * Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
 * A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie;
 * I love thee well in that thou lik'st it not.

KATHERINA.
 * Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
 * And it I will have, or I will have none.

[Exit HABERDASHER.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Thy gown? Why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
 * O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
 * What's this? A sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
 * What, up and down, carv'd like an appletart?
 * Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
 * Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
 * Why, what i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

HORTENSIO.
 * [Aside] I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.

TAILOR.
 * You bid me make it orderly and well,
 * According to the fashion and the time.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd,
 * I did not bid you mar it to the time.
 * Go, hop me over every kennel home,
 * For you shall hop without my custom, sir.
 * I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.

KATHERINA.
 * I never saw a better fashion'd gown,
 * More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable;
 * Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.

TAILOR.
 * She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
 * Thou thimble,
 * Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
 * Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
 * Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
 * Away! thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
 * Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard
 * As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st!
 * I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.

TAILOR.
 * Your worship is deceiv'd: the gown is made
 * Just as my master had direction.
 * Grumio gave order how it should be done.

GRUMIO.
 * I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.

TAILOR.
 * But how did you desire it should be made?

GRUMIO.
 * Marry, sir, with needle and thread.

TAILOR.
 * But did you not request to have it cut?

GRUMIO.
 * Thou hast faced many things.

TAILOR. I have.

GRUMIO.
 * Face not me. Thou hast braved many men; brave not me: I
 * will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I say unto thee, I bid thy
 * master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces:
 * ergo, thou liest.

TAILOR.
 * Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Read it.

GRUMIO.
 * The note lies in 's throat, if he say I said so.

TAILOR.
 * 'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.'

GRUMIO.
 * Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in the
 * skirts of it and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread;
 * I said, a gown.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Proceed.

TAILOR.
 * 'With a small compassed cape.'

GRUMIO.
 * I confess the cape.

TAILOR.
 * 'With a trunk sleeve.'

GRUMIO.
 * I confess two sleeves.

TAILOR.
 * 'The sleeves curiously cut.'

PETRUCHIO.
 * Ay, there's the villainy.

GRUMIO.
 * Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill. I commanded the
 * sleeves should be cut out, and sew'd up again; and that I'll
 * prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

TAILOR.
 * This is true that I say; an I had thee in place where thou
 * shouldst know it.

GRUMIO.
 * I am for thee straight; take thou the bill, give me thy
 * mete-yard, and spare not me.

HORTENSIO.
 * God-a-mercy, Grumio! Then he shall have no odds.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.

GRUMIO.
 * You are i' the right, sir; 'tis for my mistress.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Go, take it up unto thy master's use.

GRUMIO.
 * Villain, not for thy life! Take up my mistress' gown for
 * thy master's use!

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?

GRUMIO.
 * O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for.
 * Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
 * O fie, fie, fie!

PETRUCHIO.
 * [Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
 * [To Tailor.] Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.

HORTENSIO.
 * [Aside to Tailor.] Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow;
 * Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
 * Away, I say! commend me to thy master.

[Exit TAILOR.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's
 * Even in these honest mean habiliments.
 * Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor
 * For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
 * And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
 * So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
 * What, is the jay more precious than the lark
 * Because his feathers are more beautiful?
 * Or is the adder better than the eel
 * Because his painted skin contents the eye?
 * O no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
 * For this poor furniture and mean array.
 * If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me;
 * And therefore frolic; we will hence forthwith,
 * To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
 * Go call my men, and let us straight to him;
 * And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
 * There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
 * Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
 * And well we may come there by dinner-time.

KATHERINA.
 * I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two,
 * And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.

PETRUCHIO.
 * It shall be seven ere I go to horse.
 * Look what I speak, or do, or think to do,
 * You are still crossing it. Sirs, let 't alone:
 * I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
 * It shall be what o'clock I say it is.

HORTENSIO.
 * Why, so this gallant will command the sun.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter TRANIO, and the PEDANT dressed like VINCENTIO.]

TRANIO.
 * Sir, this is the house; please it you that I call?

PEDANT.
 * Ay, what else? and, but I be deceived,
 * Signior Baptista may remember me,
 * Near twenty years ago in Genoa,
 * Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.

TRANIO.
 * 'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
 * With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.

PEDANT.
 * I warrant you. But, sir, here comes your boy;
 * 'Twere good he were school'd.

[Enter BIONDELLO.]

TRANIO.
 * Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
 * Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.
 * Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.

BIONDELLO.
 * Tut! fear not me.

TRANIO.
 * But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?

BIONDELLO.
 * I told him that your father was at Venice,
 * And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.

TRANIO.
 * Thou'rt a tall fellow; hold thee that to drink.
 * Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.

[Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO.]

Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
 * [To the PEDANT] Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of;
 * I pray you stand good father to me now;
 * Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

PEDANT.
 * Soft, son!
 * Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
 * To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
 * Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
 * Of love between your daughter and himself:
 * And,—for the good report I hear of you,
 * And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
 * And she to him,—to stay him not too long,
 * I am content, in a good father's care,
 * To have him match'd; and, if you please to like
 * No worse than I, upon some agreement
 * Me shall you find ready and willing
 * With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
 * For curious I cannot be with you,
 * Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.

BAPTISTA.
 * Sir, pardon me in what I have to say.
 * Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
 * 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.

TRANIO.
 * I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
 * We be affied, and such assurance ta'en
 * As shall with either part's agreement stand?

BAPTISTA.
 * Not in my house, Lucentio, for you know
 * Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants;
 * Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still,
 * And happily we might be interrupted.

TRANIO.
 * Then at my lodging, an it like you:
 * There doth my father lie; and there this night
 * We'll pass the business privately and well.
 * Send for your daughter by your servant here;
 * My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
 * The worst is this, that at so slender warning
 * You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.

BAPTISTA.
 * It likes me well. Cambio, hie you home,
 * And bid Bianca make her ready straight;
 * And, if you will, tell what hath happened:
 * Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua,
 * And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.


 * LUCENTIO.
 * I pray the gods she may, with all my heart!

TRANIO.
 * Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
 * Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
 * Welcome! One mess is like to be your cheer;
 * Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.

BAPTISTA.
 * I follow you.

[Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA.]

BIONDELLO.
 * Cambio!

LUCENTIO.
 * What say'st thou, Biondello?

BIONDELLO.
 * You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?

LUCENTIO.
 * Biondello, what of that?

BIONDELLO.
 * Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind to expound
 * the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.

LUCENTIO.
 * I pray thee moralize them.

BIONDELLO.
 * Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the
 * deceiving father of a deceitful son.

LUCENTIO.
 * And what of him?

BIONDELLO.
 * His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.

LUCENTIO.
 * And then?

BIONDELLO.
 * The old priest at Saint Luke's church is at your
 * command at all hours.

LUCENTIO.
 * And what of all this?

BIONDELLO.
 * I cannot tell, except they are busied about a
 * counterfeit assurance. Take your assurance of her, cum privilegio
 * ad imprimendum solum; to the church! take the priest, clerk, and
 * some sufficient honest witnesses.
 * If this be not that you look for, I have more to say,
 * But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

[Going.]

LUCENTIO.
 * Hear'st thou, Biondello?

BIONDELLO.
 * I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an afternoon
 * as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so
 * may you, sir; and so adieu, sir. My master hath appointed me to
 * go to Saint Luke's to bid the priest be ready to come against you
 * come with your appendix.

[Exit.]

LUCENTIO.
 * I may, and will, if she be so contented.
 * She will be pleas'd; then wherefore should I doubt?
 * Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her;
 * It shall go hard if Cambio go without her:

[Exit.]

SCENE V. A public road
[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, HORTENSIO, and SERVANTS.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's.
 * Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!

KATHERINA.
 * The moon! The sun; it is not moonlight now.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

KATHERINA.
 * I know it is the sun that shines so bright.

PETRUCHIO.
 * 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.
 * Go on and fetch our horses back again.
 * Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!

HORTENSIO.
 * Say as he says, or we shall never go.

KATHERINA.
 * Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
 * And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
 * And if you please to call it a rush-candle,
 * Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I say it is the moon.

KATHERINA.
 * I know it is the moon.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.

KATHERINA.
 * Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun;
 * But sun it is not when you say it is not,
 * And the moon changes even as your mind.
 * What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
 * And so it shall be so for Katherine.

HORTENSIO.
 * Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
 * And not unluckily against the bias.
 * But, soft! Company is coming here.

[Enter VINCENTIO, in a travelling dress.]


 * [To VINCENTIO] Good-morrow, gentle mistress; where away?
 * Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
 * Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
 * Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
 * What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty
 * As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
 * Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
 * Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.

HORTENSIO.
 * 'A will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.

KATHERINA.
 * Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
 * Whither away, or where is thy abode?
 * Happy the parents of so fair a child;
 * Happier the man whom favourable stars
 * Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
 * This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
 * And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is.

KATHERINA.
 * Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
 * That have been so bedazzled with the sun
 * That everything I look on seemeth green:
 * Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
 * Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known
 * Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
 * We shall be joyful of thy company.

VINCENTIO.
 * 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.

PETRUCHIO.
 * What is his name?

VINCENTIO.
 * Lucentio, gentle sir.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Happily met; the happier for thy son.
 * 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. Wonder not,
 * Nor be not griev'd: she is of good esteem,
 * Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
 * Beside, so qualified as may beseem
 * The spouse of any noble gentleman.
 * Let me embrace with old Vincentio;
 * And wander we to see thy honest son,
 * Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

VINCENTIO.
 * But is this true? or is it else your pleasure,
 * Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
 * Upon the company you overtake?

HORTENSIO.
 * I do assure thee, father, so it is.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
 * For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.

[Exeunt all but HORTENSIO.]

HORTENSIO.
 * Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
 * Have to my widow! and if she be froward,
 * Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.

[Exit.]

SCENE I. Padua. Before LUCENTIO'S house.
[Enter on one side BIONDELLO, LUCENTIO, and BIANCA; GREMIO walking on other side.]

BIONDELLO.
 * Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.

LUCENTIO.
 * I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need the at
 * home, therefore leave us.

BIONDELLO.
 * Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and then
 * come back to my master's as soon as I can.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO, BIANCA, and BIONDELLO.]

GREMIO.
 * I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.

[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, VINCENTIO, and ATTENDANTS.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Sir, here's the door; this is Lucentio's house:
 * My father's bears more toward the market-place;
 * Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.

VINCENTIO.
 * You shall not choose but drink before you go.
 * I think I shall command your welcome here,
 * And by all likelihood some cheer is toward.

[Knocks.]

GREMIO.
 * They're busy within; you were best knock louder.

[Enter PEDANT above, at a window.]

PEDANT.
 * What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?

VINCENTIO.
 * Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?

PEDANT.
 * He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.

VINCENTIO.
 * What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make
 * merry withal?

PEDANT.
 * Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall need none so
 * long as I live.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. Do
 * you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell
 * Signior Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa, and is here
 * at the door to speak with him.

PEDANT.
 * Thou liest: his father is come from Padua, and here looking
 * out at the window.

VINCENTIO.
 * Art thou his father?

PEDANT.
 * Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * [To VINCENTIO] Why, how now, gentleman! why, this is flat
 * knavery to take upon you another man's name.

PEDANT.
 * Lay hands on the villain: I believe 'a means to cozen
 * somebody in this city under my countenance.

[Re-enter BIONDELLO.]

BIONDELLO.
 * I have seen them in the church together: God send 'em
 * good shipping! But who is here? Mine old master, Vincentio! Now
 * we are undone and brought to nothing.

VINCENTIO.
 * [Seeing BIONDELLO.] Come hither, crack-hemp.

BIONDELLO.
 * I hope I may choose, sir.

VINCENTIO.
 * Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?

BIONDELLO.
 * Forgot you! No, sir: I could not forget you, for I never
 * saw you before in all my life.

VINCENTIO.
 * What, you notorious villain! didst thou never see thy
 * master's father, Vincentio?

BIONDELLO.
 * What, my old worshipful old master? Yes, marry, sir; see
 * where he looks out of the window.

VINCENTIO.
 * Is't so, indeed?

[He beats BIONDELLO.]

BIONDELLO.
 * Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.

[Exit.] PEDANT.
 * Help, son! help, Signior Baptista!

[Exit from the window.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of this
 * controversy.

[They retire.]

[Re-enter PEDANT below; BAPTISTA, TRANIO, and SERVANTS.]

TRANIO.
 * Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?

VINCENTIO.
 * What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal gods!
 * O fine villain! A silken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak,
 * and a copatain hat! O, I am undone! I am undone! While I play the
 * good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the
 * university.

TRANIO.
 * How now! what's the matter?

BAPTISTA.
 * What, is the man lunatic?

TRANIO.
 * Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but
 * your words show you a madman. Why, sir, what 'cerns it you if I
 * wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to
 * maintain it.

VINCENTIO.
 * Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.

BAPTISTA.
 * You mistake, sir; you mistake, sir. Pray, what do you
 * think is his name?

VINCENTIO.
 * His name! As if I knew not his name! I have brought him
 * up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.

PEDANT.
 * Away, away, mad ass! His name is Lucentio; and he is mine
 * only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vicentio.

VINCENTIO.
 * Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold on
 * him, I charge you, in the Duke's name. O, my son, my son! Tell
 * me, thou villain, where is my son, Lucentio?

TRANIO.
 * Call forth an officer.

[Enter one with an OFFICER.]

Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista, I charge you
 * see that he be forthcoming.

VINCENTIO.
 * Carry me to the gaol!

GREMIO.
 * Stay, officer; he shall not go to prison.

BAPTISTA.
 * Talk not, Signior Gremio; I say he shall go to prison.

GREMIO.
 * Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched in
 * this business; I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.

PEDANT.
 * Swear if thou darest.

GREMIO.
 * Nay, I dare not swear it.

TRANIO.
 * Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.

GREMIO.
 * Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.

BAPTISTA.
 * Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!

VINCENTIO.
 * Thus strangers may be haled and abus'd: O monstrous
 * villain!

[Re-enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and BIANCA.]

BIONDELLO.
 * O! we are spoiled; and yonder he is: deny him, forswear
 * him, or else we are all undone.

LUCENTIO.
 * [Kneeling.] Pardon, sweet father.

VINCENTIO.
 * Lives my sweetest son?

[BIONDELLO, TRANIO, and PEDANT, run out.]

BIANCA.
 * [Kneeling.] Pardon, dear father.

BAPTISTA.
 * How hast thou offended?
 * Where is Lucentio?

LUCENTIO.
 * Here's Lucentio,
 * Right son to the right Vincentio;
 * That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
 * While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.

GREMIO.
 * Here 's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!

VINCENTIO.
 * Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
 * That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?

BAPTISTA.
 * Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?

BIANCA.
 * Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

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 arriv'd at the last
 * Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
 * What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to;
 * Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.

VINCENTIO.
 * I'll slit the villain's nose that would have sent me to
 * the gaol.

BAPTISTA.
 * [To LUCENTIO.] But do you hear, sir? Have you married my
 * daughter without asking my good will?

VINCENTIO.
 * Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but I
 * will in, to be revenged for this villainy.

[Exit.]

BAPTISTA.
 * And I to sound the depth of this knavery.

[Exit.] LUCENTIO.
 * Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA.]

GREMIO.
 * My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest;
 * Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.

[Exit.]

[PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA advance.]

KATHERINA.
 * Husband, let's follow to see the end of this ado.

PETRUCHIO.
 * First kiss me, Kate, and we will.

KATHERINA.
 * What! in the midst of the street?

PETRUCHIO.
 * What! art thou ashamed of me?

KATHERINA.
 * No, sir; God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.

KATHERINA.
 * Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
 * Better once than never, for never too late.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. A room in LUCENTIO'S house.
[Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GREMIO, the PEDANT, LUCENTIO, BIANCA, PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, HORTENSIO, and WIDOW. TRANIO, BIONDELLO, and GRUMIO, and Others, attending.]

LUCENTIO.
 * 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 Katherina,
 * 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.

[They sit at table.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!

BAPTISTA.
 * Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

HORTENSIO.
 * For both our sakes I would that word were true.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.

WIDOW.
 * Then never trust me if I be afeard.

PETRUCHIO.
 * You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
 * I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.

WIDOW.
 * He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Roundly replied.

KATHERINA.
 * Mistress, how mean you that?

WIDOW.
 * Thus I conceive by him.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?

HORTENSIO.
 * My widow says thus she conceives her tale.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.

KATHERINA.
 * 'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round':
 * I pray you tell me what you meant by that.

WIDOW.
 * Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
 * Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe;
 * And now you know my meaning.

KATHERINA.
 * A very mean meaning.

WIDOW.
 * Right, I mean you.

KATHERINA.
 * And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.

PETRUCHIO.
 * To her, Kate!

HORTENSIO.
 * To her, widow!

PETRUCHIO.
 * A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.

HORTENSIO.
 * That's my office.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Spoke like an officer: ha' to thee, lad.

[Drinks to HORTENSIO.]

BAPTISTA.
 * How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?

GREMIO.
 * Believe me, sir, they butt together well.

BIANCA.
 * Head and butt! An hasty-witted body
 * Would say your head and butt were head and horn.

VINCENTIO.
 * Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you?

BIANCA.
 * Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
 * Have at you for a bitter jest or two.

BIANCA.
 * Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush,
 * And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
 * You are welcome all.

[Exeunt BIANCA, KATHERINA, and WIDOW.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio;
 * This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not:
 * Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.

TRANIO.
 * O, sir! Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
 * Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

PETRUCHIO.
 * A good swift simile, but something currish.

TRANIO.
 * 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself:
 * 'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.

BAPTISTA.
 * O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.

LUCENTIO.
 * I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.

HORTENSIO.
 * Confess, confess; hath he not hit you here?

PETRUCHIO.
 * A' has a little gall'd me, I confess;
 * And, as the jest did glance away from me,
 * 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

BAPTISTA.
 * Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
 * I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Well, I say no; and therefore, for assurance,
 * Let's each one send unto his wife,
 * And he whose wife is most obedient,
 * To come at first when he doth send for her,
 * Shall win the wager which we will propose.

HORTENSIO.
 * Content. What's the wager?

LUCENTIO.
 * Twenty crowns.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Twenty crowns!
 * I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
 * But twenty times so much upon my wife.

LUCENTIO.
 * A hundred then.

HORTENSIO.
 * Content.

PETRUCHIO.
 * A match! 'tis done.

HORTENSIO.
 * Who shall begin?

LUCENTIO.
 * That will I.
 * Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

BIONDELLO.
 * I go.

[Exit.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.

LUCENTIO.
 * I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.

[Re-enter BIONDELLO.]


 * How now! what news?

BIONDELLO.
 * Sir, my mistress sends you word
 * That she is busy and she cannot come.

PETRUCHIO.
 * How! She's busy, and she cannot come!
 * Is that an answer?

GREMIO.
 * Ay, and a kind one too:
 * Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I hope, better.

HORTENSIO.
 * Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
 * To come to me forthwith.

[Exit BIONDELLO.]

PETRUCHIO.
 * O, ho! entreat her!
 * Nay, then she must needs come.

HORTENSIO.
 * I am afraid, sir,
 * Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.

[Re-enter BIONDELLO.]


 * Now, where's my wife?

BIONDELLO.
 * She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
 * She will not come; she bids you come to her.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
 * Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
 * Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress; say,
 * I command her come to me.

[Exit GRUMIO.] HORTENSIO.
 * I know her answer.

PETRUCHIO.
 * What?

HORTENSIO.
 * She will not.

PETRUCHIO.
 * The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.

[Re-enter KATHERINA.]

BAPTISTA.
 * Now, by my holidame, here comes Katherina!

KATHERINA.
 * What is your sir, that you send for me?

PETRUCHIO.
 * Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?

KATHERINA.
 * They sit conferring by the parlour fire.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come,
 * Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
 * Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.

[Exit KATHERINA.]

LUCENTIO.
 * Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.

HORTENSIO.
 * And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
 * An awful rule, and right supremacy;
 * And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.

BAPTISTA.
 * Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!
 * The wager thou hast won; and I will add
 * Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
 * Another dowry to another daughter,
 * For she is chang'd, as she had never been.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
 * And show more sign of her obedience,
 * Her new-built virtue and obedience.
 * See where she comes, and brings your froward wives
 * As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.

[Re-enter KATHERINA with BIANCA and WIDOW.]


 * Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
 * Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.

[KATHERINA pulls off her cap and throws it down.]

WIDOW.
 * Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh
 * Till I be brought to such a silly pass!

BIANCA.
 * Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?

LUCENTIO.
 * I would your duty were as foolish too;
 * The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
 * Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time!

BIANCA.
 * The more fool you for laying on my duty.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Katherine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
 * What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.

WIDOW.
 * Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come on, I say; and first begin with her.

WIDOW.
 * She shall not.

PETRUCHIO.
 * I say she shall: and first begin with her.

KATHERINA.
 * Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
 * And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
 * To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
 * It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
 * Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
 * And in no sense is meet or amiable.
 * A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
 * Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
 * And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
 * Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
 * Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
 * Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
 * And for thy maintenance commits his body
 * To painful labour both by sea and land,
 * To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
 * Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
 * And craves no other tribute at thy hands
 * But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
 * Too little payment for so great a debt.
 * Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
 * Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
 * And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
 * And not obedient to his honest will,
 * What is she but a foul contending rebel
 * And graceless traitor to her loving lord?—
 * I am asham'd that women are so simple
 * To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
 * Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
 * When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
 * Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
 * Unapt to toll and trouble in the world,
 * But that our soft conditions and our hearts
 * Should well agree with our external parts?
 * Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
 * My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
 * My heart as great, my reason haply more,
 * To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
 * But now I see our lances are but straws,
 * Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
 * That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
 * Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
 * And place your hands below your husband's foot:
 * In token of which duty, if he please,
 * My hand is ready; may it do him ease.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

LUCENTIO.
 * Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't.

VINCENTIO.
 * 'Tis a good hearing when children are toward.

LUCENTIO.
 * But a harsh hearing when women are froward.

PETRUCHIO.
 * Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
 * We three are married, but you two are sped.
 * 'Twas I won the wager,
 * [To LUCENTIO.] though you hit the white;
 * And being a winner, God give you good night!

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA.]

HORTENSIO.
 * Now go thy ways; thou hast tam'd a curst shrew.

LUCENTIO.
 * 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.

[Exeunt.]