Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my 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.
Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketb
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 better 'd rather than decreased :
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love.
What dowry shall I have with her to wife ?
Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands,
And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
Pet. _ And, for that dowry, I '11 assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leases whatsoever :
Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.
Bap. Ay, when the special thing ic well ob-
tained,
That is, her love ; for that is all in all.
Pet. 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.
Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy
speed !
But be thou armed for some unhappy words.
Pet . Ay, to the proof ; as mountains are for
winds,
That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
Re-enter Hortensio, with his head broken.
Bap. How now, my friend, why dost thou look
so pale ?
Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good
musician ?
' Hor. I think she '11 sooner prove a soldier :
Iron may hold with her, but never lutfes.
Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to
the lute ?
Hor. Why, no ; for she hath broke the lute to
me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bowed 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.
Pet . 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 !
Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so dis-
comfited :
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 ?
Pet. 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 5 11 tell her plain,
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale :
Say, that she frown ; I '11 say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly washed with dew :
Say she be mute and will not speak a word ;
Then I '11 commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence :
If she do bid me pack, I '11 give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week :
If she deny to wed, I '11 crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married,.
But here she comes ; and now, Petruchio, speak.
242
TAMING OF THE SHREW.
ACT II., Sc. 1.
Enter Katharina.
Good morrow, Kate ; for that 's your name, I
hear.
Kat. Well have you heard, but something hard
of hearing :
They call me Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. You lie, in faith ; for you are called 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 Kates, and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation ;
Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
Kat. Moved! in good time: let him that moved
you hither,
Remove you hence : I knew you at the first,
You were a moveable.
Pet. Why, what 's a moveable ?
Kat. A join'd stool.
Pet. Thou hast hit it : come, sit on me.
Kat. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you.
Kat. No such jade as you, if me you mean.
Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee,
For, knowing thee to be but young and light,
Kat. Too light for such a swain as you to
catch;
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
Pet. Should be! should buzz.
Kat. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
Pet. O, slow-winged turtle ! shall a buzzard
take thee ?
Kat. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
Pet. Come, come, you wasp ; i' faith you are too
angry.
Kat. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out.
Kat. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
Pet. Who knows not where a wasp does wear
his sting ?
In his tail.
Kat. In his tongue.
Pet. Whose tongue ?
Kat. Yours, if you talk of tails ; and so fare-
well.
Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail ? nay,
come again.
Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
Kat. That I '11 try. Striking him.
Pet. I swear I '11 cuff you if you strike again.
Kat. So may you lose your arms :
If you strike me, you are no gentleman ;
And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
Pet. A herald, Kate ? O, put me in thy books !
Kat. What is your crest ? a coxcomb ?
Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
Kat. No cock of mine ; you crow too like a
craven.
Pet . Nay, come, Kate, come ; you must not
look so sour.
Kat. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.
Pet. Why, here 's no crab, and therefore look
not sour.
Kat. There is, there is.
Pet. Then show it me.
Kat. Had I a glass, I would.
Pet. What, you mean my face ?
Kat. Well aim'd of such a young one.
Pet. Now, by Saint George, I am too young
for you.
Kat. Yet you are withered.
Pet. 'Tis with cares.
Kat. I care not.
Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate : in sooth, you 'scape
not so.
Kat. I chafe you, if I tarry : let me go.
Pet. 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 cour-
teous,
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time
flowers :
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look as-
kance,
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 ?
slanderous 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.
Kat. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st com-
mand.
Pet. 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 !
Kat. Where did you study all this goodly
speech ?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Kat. A witty mother ! witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise ?
Kat. Yes ; keep you warm.
Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, 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 bi'ing you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable, as other household Kates.
Here comes your father : never make denial ;
1 must and will hav6 Katharine to my wife.
Re-enter Baptista, Gremio and Tranio.
Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you
with my daughter ?
Pet. How but well, sir ? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katharine ! in
your dumps ?
Kat. 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.
ACT II., Sc. 1.
TAMING OF THE MHREW.
243
Pet. Father, 'tis thus : yourself and all the
world,
That talked of her have talked 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 Eoman Lucrece for her chastity :
And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
Kat. I '11 see thee hanged on Sunday first.
Gre. Hark, Petruchio ; she says she '11 see thee
hanged first.
Tra. Is this your speeding? nay then, good
night our part !
Pet. Be patient, gentlemen ; I choose her for
myself :
If she and I be pleased, what 's that to you ?
'Tis bargained '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 tarne, 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 Katharine shall be fine.
Bap. I know not what to say : but give me
your hands.
God send you joy, Petruchio ! 'tis a match.
Gre. Tra. Amen, say we : we will be wit-
Pet. 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' Sun-
day.
Exeunt Petruchio and Kat., severally.
Gre. Was ever match clapped up so suddenly ?
Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's
part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you :
'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
Bap. The gain I seek is quiet in the match.
Gre. 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.
Tra. And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can
Gre. Youngling, thou canst not love so dear
as I.
Tra. Grey-beard, thy love doth freeze.
Gre. But thine doth fry.
SMpper, stand back : 'tis age that nourisheth.
Tra. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, gentlemen ; I '11 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?
Gre. 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 stuffed 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.
Tra. 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 '11 leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa 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 join-
1 ture.
What, have I pinched you, Signior Gremio ?
Gre. 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 ?
Tra. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no
less
Than three great argosies ; besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight gallies : these I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.
Gre. Nay, I have offered 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.
Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the
world,
By your firm promise : Gremio is put-vied.
Bap. 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 ?
Tra. That 's but a cavil : he is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as
old?
Bap. Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolved : on Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katharine 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.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. Exit Baptifia.
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 .
Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered
hide!
Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.
'Tis in my head to do my master good :
I see no reason but supposed Lucentio
244
TAMING OF THE SHREW.
ACT III., Sc. 2.
Must get a father, called supposed 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.
Ad HI.
Scene I. Padua. A Room in Baptista's House.
Enter Lucentio, Hortensio and Bianca.
Luc. Fiddler, forbear ; you grow too forward,
sir :
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcomed you withal ?
Hor. But, wrangling pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony :
Then give me leave to have prerogative ;
And when in music Ave have spent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
Luc. Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordained !
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.
Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of
thine.
Bia. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
To strive for that which resteth in my choice :
I am no breechiiig scholar in the schools ;
I '11 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 tuned.
Hor. You '11 leave his lecture when I am in
tune ? Hortensio retires.
Luc. That will be never : tune your instru-
ment.
Bia. Where left we last ?
Luc. Here, madam :
Hac ibat Simois ; hie est Sigeia tellus ;
Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bia. Construe them.
Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before, Simois,
I am Lucentio, Me est, son unto Vincentio of
Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your
love ; Hie 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.
Hor. Madam, my instrument 's in tune.
-Bia. Let 's hear. O fie ! the treble jars.
Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Bia. Now let me see if I can construe it : Hac
ibat Simois, 1 know you not, hie est Sigeia tellus,
I trust you not ; Hie steterat Priami, take heed
he hear us not, regia, presume not ; celsa senis,
desoair not.
Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc. All but the base.
Hor. The base is right ; 'tis the base knave
that jars.
How fiery and forward our pedant is !
Now, for .my life, the knave doth court my love :
Pedascule, I '11 watch you better yet.
Bia. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Mistrust it not : for, sure, ^Eacides
Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
Bia . I must believe my master ; else, I promise
y u >
I should be arguing still upon that doubt :
But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you :
Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
Hor. You may go walk, and give me leave
awhile :
My lessons make no music in three parts.
Luc. Are you so formal, sir ? Well, I must
wait,
And watch withal ; for, but I be deceived,
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
Hor. 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.
Bia. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
Bia. [Reads.]
" 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 cliff, 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.
Ser. 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.
Bia. Farewell, sweet masters, both ; I must be
gone. Exeunt Bianca and Servant.
Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to
stay. E-rit.
Hor. 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 wandering 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, Katharina,
Bianca, Lucentio and Attendants.
Bap. [To Tranio. .] Signior Lucentio, this is the
'pointed day
That Katharine 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 ?
Kat. No shame but mine : I must, forsooth, be
forced
To give my hand, opposed against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen ;
ACT III., Sc. 2.
TAMING OF THE SHREW.
245
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 '11 woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends invite, and proclaim the banns ;
Yet never means to wed where he hath wop'd.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say, Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her !
Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptistatoo,
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.
Kai. Would Katharine had never seen him
though !
Exit weeping, followed by Bianca
and others.
Bap. 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.
Bio. Master, master ! news, old news, and such
news as you never heard of !
Bap. Is it new and old too ? how may that be?
Bio. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio' s
coming ?
Bap. Is he come ?
Bio. Why, no, sir.
Bap. What then?
Bio. He is coming.
Bap. When will he be here ?
Bio. When he stands where I am and sees you
there.
Tra. But, say, what to thine old news ?
Bio. 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 -cheeked 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 packthread.
Bap. Who comes with him ?
Bio. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world capa-
risoned 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 pricked in 't for a
feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel,
and not like a Christian footboy, or a gentleman's
lackey.
Tra. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this
fashion ;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd.
Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he
comes.
Bio. Why, sir, he comes not.
Bap. Didst thou not say he comes ?
Bio. Who, that Petruchio came ?
Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.
Bio. No, sir ; I say his horse comes, with him
on his back.
Bap. Why, that 's all one.
Bio. 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.
Pet. Come, where be these galknts ? who 's at
home ?
Bap. You are welcome, sir.
Pet. And yet I come not well.
Bap. And yet you halt not.
Tra. Not so well apparell'd,
As I wish you were.
Pet . 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 ?
Bap. 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 !
. Tra. And tell us, what occasion of import
Hath all so long detained you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself ?
Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear :
Suffice th, 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.
Tra. See not your bride in these unreverent
robes :
Go to my chamber ; put on clothes of mine.
Pet. Not I, believe me : thus I '11 visit her.
Bap. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
Pet. 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 and Grumio.
Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
Bap. I '11 after him, and see the event of this.
Exeunt Baptista and Gremio.
Tra. But to her love concerneth us to add
Her father's liking : which to bring to pass,
246
TAMING OF THE SHREW.
ACT III., Sc. 2.
As I before imparted to your worship,
I am to get a man, whate'er he be,
It skills not much, we 'Jl fit him to our turn,
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa ;
And make assurance here in Padua,