Bap.
Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Katharine and Petruchio should be marry'd,
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?

Kath.
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^{5 note};
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick 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, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'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 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.

Kath.
Would, Katharine had never seen him though! [Exit weeping.

Bap.
Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;

For such an injury would vex a saint,
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour. Enter Biondello.

Bion.

Master, master! news, old news^{6 note}

Bap.

Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Bian.

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

Bap.

Is he come?

Bion.

Why, no, sir.

Bap.

What then?

Bion.

He is coming.

Bap.

When will he be here?

Bion.

When he stands where I am, and sees you there.

Tra.

But, say, what to thine old news?

Bion.

Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turn'd; ^{7 note}

buckled, another lac'd; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points: His horse hip'd with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred: besides, possess'd with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows^{9 note}

Bap.

Who comes with him?

Bion.

Oh, sir, his lacquey, for all the world caparison'd like the horse; with a linen stock^{2 note} on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a red and blue list; ^{3 note}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 foot-boy, or a gentleman's lacquey.

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, howsoever he comes.

Bion.

Why, sir, he comes not.

Bap.

Didst thou not say, he comes?

Bion.

Who? that Petruchio came?

Bap.

Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion.

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

Bap.

Why, that's all one.

Bion.
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^{3 note}





























.

Pet.
Come, where be these gallants? who is 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.
Fye! 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 detain'd you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet.
Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
Though in some part enforced to digress^{4 note};
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 cloaths of mine.

Pet.
Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.

Bap.
But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

Pet.
Good sooth, even thus; therefore have done with words;

To me she's marry'd, not unto my cloaths;
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? [Exit. Pet. Gru. and Bion.

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'll after him, and see the event of this. [Exit.

Tra.
But, sir, our love^{5 note}

Luc.
Were it not that my fellow school-master
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, despight of all the world.

Tra.
That by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business:—

We'll over-reach the grey-beard, 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?

Gre.
As willingly as e'er I came from school^{6 note}.

Tra.
And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?

Gre.
A bridegroom, say you? 'tis a groom, indeed,
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.

Tra.
Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.

Gre.
Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.

Tra.
Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.

Gre.
Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I'll tell you, sir Lucentio; When the priest
Should ask—if Katharine 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,
This 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.

Tra.
What said the wench, when he rose up again?

Gre.
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 aboard,
Carowsing to his mates after a storm:
Quaff'd off the muscadel^{7 note}

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.

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. [Musick plays. Enter Petruchio, Katharine, Bianca, Hortensio, and Baptista.

Pet.
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.

Bap.
Is't possible, you will away to-night?

Pet.
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 a way myself
To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife:
Dine with my father, drink a health to me;
For I must hence, and farewel to you all.

Tra.
Let us intreat you stay 'till after dinner.

Pet.
It may not be.

Gre.
Let me intreat you.

Pet.
It cannot be.

Kath.
Let me intreat you.

Pet.
I am content.

Kath.
Are you content to stay?

Pet.
I am content you shall intreat me stay;
But yet not stay, intreat me how you can.

Kath.
Now, if you love me, stay.

Pet.
Grumio my horses.

Gru.

Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses^{8 note}





































.

Kath.
Nay, then,
Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;

No, nor to-morrow, nor 'till I please myself.
The door is open, sir, there lies your way,
You may be jogging, while 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.

Pet.
O, Kate, content thee; pr'ythee, be not angry.

Kath.
I will be angry; What hast thou to do?—
Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.

Gre.
Ay, marry, sir: now it begins to work.

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

Pet.
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 houshold-stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring my action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua.—Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon, we're 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. [Exit Petruchio, and Katharine.

Bap.
Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.

Gre.
Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.

Tra.
Of all mad matches, never was the like!

Luc.
Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?

Bian.
That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.

Gre.
I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

Bap.
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.

Tra.
Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?

Bap.
She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go. [Exeunt.

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