Gru.

Fie, fie, on all tir'd jades! on all mad masters! and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever man so 'wray'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. Hola, ho! Curtis!

Cur.

Who is that, calls so coldly?

Gru.

A piece of ice: If thou doubt it, thou may'st slide from my shoulder to my heel, with no greater a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis.

Cur.

Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?

Gru.

O, ay Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire; cast on no water.

Cur.

Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?

Gru.

She was, good Curtis, before this frost: but, thou know'st, winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tam'd my old master and my new mistress,— and thyself, fellow Curtis.

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;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.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;I pr'ythee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world!&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;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.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news?&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Why, Jack, boy! ho, boy! and as much news as thou wilt.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;Come, you are so full of coney-catching.—&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold.&brquo; Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house trimm'd, rushes strew'd, cobwebs swept; the servingmen in their new fustian, their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without, the carpets laid, and every thing in order?&brquo;

Cur.

All ready: And therefore, I pray thee, news?

Gru.

First, know, my horse is tired; my master and mistress fall'n out.

Cur.

How?

Gru.

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

Cur.

Let's ha't, good Grumio.

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Lend thine ear.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;Here.&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;There.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.&brquo;

Gru.

&blquo;And therefore 'tis call'd—a sensible tale: and this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech list'ning. Now I begin.&brquo;—Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress:—&brquo;

Cur.

Both on one horse?

Gru.

What's that to thee?

Cur.

Why, a horse.

Gru.

Tell thou the tale: But, hadst thou not cross'd 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 stumbl'd; how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me; how he swore; how she pray'd,—that never pray'd before: how I cry'd; 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 unexperienc'd to thy grave.

Cur.

By this reck'ning, he is more shrew than she.

Gru.

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, Sugar-sop, and the rest: let their heads be sleekly comb'd, their blue coats brush'd, and their garters of an indifferent knot: let them curt'sy with their left legs; and not presume to touch a hair of my master's horsetail, till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?* ^note

Cur.

They are.

Gru.

Call them forth.

Cur.

Do you hear, ho! [calling.] you must meet my master, &blquo;to countenance my mistress.

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Why, she hath a face of her own.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;Who knows not that?&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Thou, it seems; that call'st for company to countenance her.&brquo;

&blquo;Cur.

&blquo;I call them forth to credit her.&brquo;

&blquo;Gru.

&blquo;Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.&brquo;

1. S.

Welcome home, Grumio.

2. S.

How now, Grumio?

3. S.

What, Grumio!

4. S.

Fellow Grumio!

1. S.

How now, old lad!

Gru.

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?

1. S.

All things are ready. How near is our master?

Gru.

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

Enter Petruchio and Catherine.

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

Ser.
Here, here, sir;
Here, sir. [Crouding round him.

Pet.
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?

Gru.
Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

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

Gru.
Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all-unpink'd i'th' heel;
There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing:
There were 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.

Pet.
Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.— [Exeunt some of the Servants. Cloth laid.

Where is the life that late I led, say they.— [Sings.
Where are those villains?—Sit down, Kate, and welcome.— [Sits to table.
Soud, soud, soud, soud!— [Wiping himself. 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, [Sings.
As he forth walked on his way:—
Out, out, you rogue! [to the Servant.] you pluck my foot awry:
Take that, [striking him.] and mend the plucking of 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 Ser.
One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with.—
Where are my slippers?—Shall I have some water?— [Water presented.
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily:— [Servant lets the ewer fall.
You whorson villain! will you let it fall? [Strikes him.

Cat.
Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.

Pet.
A whorson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!—
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach. [Seats her by him
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?—
What is this? mutton?

1. S.
Ay.

Pet.
Who brought it?

1. S.
I.

Pet.
'Tis burnt; and so is all the rest o'th' 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?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all; [Throwing all at them.
You heedless jolt-heads, and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

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

Pet.
I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt, and dry'd 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* ^note. [Exit, leading out Cat. Cur. follows.

1. S. [advancing.]
Peter, didst ever see the like?

5. S.
He kills her
In her own humour. Re-enter Curtis.

Gru.
Where is he?

Cur.
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.

Pet.
Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully:
&blquo;My faulcon now is sharp, and passing empty;
&blquo;And, 'till she stoop, she must not be full gorg'd,
&blquo;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 bait, 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 rev'rend 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 head-strong humour:—
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak; 'tis charity to shew* ^note. [Exit.

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