Pet.

Where be these knaves? what, no man at door to hold my stirrup, nor to take my horse? where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

All Serv:
Here, here, Sir; here, Sir.

Pet.
Here, Sir, here, Sir, here, Sir, here, Sir?
You loggerheaded 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 whoreson, malt-horse drudge,
Did not I 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 Servants.

Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those—sit down, Kate,
And welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud. Enter Servants with Supper.
Why, when, I say? nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you rogue: you villains, when?

It was the Friar of Orders grey, [Sings.
As he forth walked on his way.
Out, out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry.
Take that, and mind the plucking off the other. [Strikes him.
Be merry, Kate: some water here; what hoa! Enter one with water.
Where's my spaniel Troilus? sirrah, get you hence,
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
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:
You whoreson villain, will you let it fall?

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

Pet.
A whoreson, beatle-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?

1 Ser.
Yes.

Pet.
Who brought it?

Ser.
I.

Pet.
'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?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups and all: [Throws the meat, &c. about the stage.
You headless jolt-heads, and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

Cath.
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 expresly am forbid to touch it:
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere, that Both of us did fast,
Since, of our selves, our selves are cholerick,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh:
Be patient, for to morrow't shall be mended,

And for this night we'll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. [Exe. Enter Servants severally.

Nath.
Peter, didst ever see the like?

Peter.
He kills her in her own humour.

Gru.
Where is he? Enter Curtis, a Servant.

Curt.
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. Enter Petruchio.

Pet.
Thus have I politickly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully:
My faulcon 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 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 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, that way the sheets;
Ay; and, amid this hurly, I'll pretend,
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 shew. [Exit.

Scene 2 SCENE, before Baptista's House. Enter Tranio and Hortensio.

Is't possible, friend Licio, that Bianca(19) ^note
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, Sir, she bears me fair in hand.

Hor.
To satisfy you, Sir, in what I said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. [They stand by. Enter Bianca and Lucentio.

Luc.
Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?

Bian.
What, master, read you? first, resolve me that.

Luc.
I read That I profess, the art of love.

Bian.
And may you prove, Sir, master of your art!

Luc.
While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart. [They retire backward.

Hor.

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.

Tra.
O despightful love, unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor.
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.

Tra.
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.

Hor.
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.

Tra.
And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
Never to marry her, tho' she intreat.
Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him.

Hor.
Would all the world, but he, had quite forsworn her!
For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
I will be married to a wealthy widow,
Ere three days pass, which has as long lov'd me,
As I have lov'd this proud disdainful haggard.
And so farewel, 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. Hor.

Tra.
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. [Lucentio and Bianca come forward.

Bian.
Tranio, you jest: but have you both forsworn me?

Tra.
Mistress, we have.

Luc.
Then we are rid of Licio.

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

Bian.
God give him joy!

Tra.
Ay, and he'll tame her.

Bian.
He says so, Tranio.

Tra.
'Faith, he's gone unto the taming school.

Bian.
The taming school? what, is there such a place?

Tra.
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.

Bion.
Oh master, master, I have watch'd so long,
That I'm dog-weary; but at last I spied(20) ^note

Tra.
What is he, Biondello?

Bion.
Master, a mercantant, or else a pedant;

I know not what; but formal in apparel;(21) ^note



In gate and countenance surly like a father.

Luc.
And what of him, Tranio?

Tra.
If he be credulous, and trust my tale,
I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
And give him assurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio:
Take in your love, and then let me alone. [Ex. Luc. and Bian. Enter a Pedant.

Ped.
God save you, Sir.

Tra.
And you, Sir; you are welcome:
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?

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

Tra.
What countryman, I pray?

Ped.
Of Mantua.

Tra.
Of Mantua, Sir? God forbid!
And come to Padua, careless of your Life?

Ped.
My life, Sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.

Tra.
'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua; know you not the cause?
Your ships are staid 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're but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.

Ped.
Alas, Sir; it is worse for me than so;
For I have bills for mony by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.

Tra.
Well, Sir, to do you courtesie,
This will I do, and this will I advise you;

First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?

Ped.
Ay, Sir, in Pisa have I often been;
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.

Tra.
Among them know you one Vincentio?

Ped.
I know him not, but I have heard of him;
A merchant of incomparable wealth.

Tra.
He is my father, Sir; and, sooth to say,
In count'nance somewhat doth resemble you.

Bion.
As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one. [Aside.

Tra.
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 court'sie, Sir, accept of it.

Ped.
Oh, Sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The Patron of my life and liberty.

Tra.
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 dowre in marriage
'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these Circumstances I'll instruct you:
Go with Me, Sir, to cloath you as becomes you. [Exeunt. Enter Catharina and Grumio.

Gru.
No, no, forsooth, I dare not for my life.

Cath.
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 intreaty, have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,

Nor never needed that I should intreat,
Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
And that, which spights me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:
As who would say, if I should sleep or eat
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death:
I pr'ythee go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

Gru.
What say you to a neat's foot?

Cath.
'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee, let me have it.

Gru.
I fear, it is too flegmatick a meat:
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?

Cath.
I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru.
I cannot tell;—I fear, it's cholerick:
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?

Cath.
A dish, that I do love to feed upon.

Gru.
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

Cath.
Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest.

Gru.
Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Cath.
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.

Gru.
Why, then the mustard without the beef.

Cath.
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 and Hortensio, with meat.

Pet.
How fares my Kate? what Sweeting, all amort?

Hor.
Mistress, what cheer?

Cath.
'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet.
Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me;
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat my self, and bring it thee:
I'm 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 the dish.

Cath.
I pray you, let it stand.

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

Cath.
I thank you, Sir.

Hor.
Signior Petruchio, fie, you are to blame:
Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet.
Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me;— [Aside.
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 fardingals, and things;
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.
What, hast thou din'd; the taylor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his rustling treasure. Enter Taylor.
Come, taylor, let us see these ornaments. Enter Haberdasher.
Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir?

Hab.
Here is the cap, your worship did bespeak.

Pet.
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.

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

Pet.
When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
And not 'till then.

Hor.
That will not be in haste.

Cath.
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 utmost as I please in words.

Pet.
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.

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

Pet.
Thy gown? why, ay; come, taylor, let us see't.
O mercy, heav'n, what masking stuff is here?
What? this a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon;
What, up and down carv'd like an apple-tart?
Here's snip, and nip, and cut, and slish, and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
Why, what a devil's name, taylor, call'st thou this?

Hor.
I see, she's like to've neither cap nor gown. [Aside.

Tay.
You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion of the time.

Pet.
Marry, and did: but if you be remembred,
I did not bid you marr 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.

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

Pet.
Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee.

Tay.

She says, your Worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet.
Oh most monstrous arrogance!
Thou lyest, 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.

Tay.
Your Worship is deceiv'd, the gown is made
Just as my master had direction.
Grumio gave order how it should be done.

Gru.
I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.

Tay.
But how did you desire it should be made?

Gru.
Marry, Sir, with needle and thread.

Tay.
But did you not request to have it cut?

Gru.
Thou hast fac'd many things.

Tay.

I have.

Gru.

Face not me: thou hast brav'd 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.

Tay.

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

Pet.

Read it.

Gru.

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

Tay.

Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.

Gru.

Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sow me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said a gown.

Pet.

Proceed.

Tay.

With a small compast cape.

Gru.

I confess the cape.

Tay.

With a trunk-sleeve.

Gru.

I confess two sleeves.

Tay.

The sleeves curiously cut.

Pet.

Ay, there's the villany.

Gru.

Error i'th' bill, Sir, error i'th' bill: I commanded, the sleeves should be cut out, and sow'd up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, tho' thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tay.

This is true, that I say; an I had thee in place where, thou shou'dst know it.

Gru.

I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy meet-yard, and spare not me.

Hor.

God-amercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.

Pet.

Well, Sir, in brief the gown is not for me.

Gru.

You are i'th' right, Sir, 'tis for my mistress.

Pet.

Go take it up unto thy master's use.

Gru.

Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress's gown for thy master's use!

Pet.
Why, Sir, what's your conceit in that?

Gru.
Oh, Sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for;
Take up my mistress's gown unto his master's use!
Oh, fie, fie, fie.

Pet.
Hortensio, say, thou wilt see the taylor paid. [Aside.
Go take it hence, be gone, and say no more.

Hor.
Taylor, 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 Tay.

Pet.
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?
Oh, 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 frolick; 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.

Cath.
I dare assure you, Sir, 'tis almost two;
And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.

Pet.
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.

Hor.
Why, so: this Gallant will command the Sun. [Exeunt Pet. Cath. and Hor. [The Presenters, above, speak here. Lord.

Who's within there?

Asleep again! go take him easily up, and put him in his own apparel again. But see, you wake him not in any case.