Pet.
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 the House:
Here Sirra, Grumio, knock I say.

Gru.
Knock, Sir? whom should I knock? Is there any
Man has rebus'd your Worship?

Pet.
Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

Gru.
Knock you here, Sir? Why, Sir, what am I, Sir,
That I should knock you here Sir?

Pet.
Villain, I say, knock me at this Gate,
And rap me well, or I'll knock your Knave's Pate.

Gru.
My Master is grown quarrelsome:
I should knock you first,
And then I know after, who comes by the worst.

Pet.
Will it not be?
'Faith, Sirra, and you'll not knock, I'll ring it,
I'll try how you can Sol, Fa, and sing it. [He rings him by the Ears.

Gru.
Help, Mistress, help, my Master is mad.

Pet.
Now knock when I bid you: Sirra, Villain. Enter Hortensio.

Hor.

How now, what's the matter? My old Friend Grumio, and my good Friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?

Pet.
Signior Hortensio, come you to part the Fray?
Contutti le core bene trovato, may I say.

Hor.

Alla nostra casa ben venuto multo honorato Signior mio Petruchio.

Gru.

Nay, 'tis no matter, 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 ought I see, two and thirty, a peep out? Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first, then had not Grumio come by the worst.

Pet.
A senseless Villain. Good Hortensio,
I bad the Rascal knock upon your Gate,
And could not get him for my Heart to do it.

Gru.

Knock at the Gate? O Heav'ns! Spake you not these words plain? Sirra, Knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly? And come you now with knocking at the Gate?

Pet.
Sirra, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

Hor.
Petruchio, patience, I am Grumio's Pledge:
Why this is 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?

Pet.
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 my self into this maze,
Happily 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.

Hor.
Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a shrew'd 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 thou'rt too much my Friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Pet.
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 burthen of my wooing Dance;
Be she as Foul as was Florentius Love,
As Old as Sybel, as Curst and Shrew'd
As Socrates's Zantippe, or a worse,
She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
Affections edge in time. Were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatick Seas.
I come to Wive it wealthily in Padua:
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

Gru.

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, tho' she have as many Diseases as two and fifty Horses; why nothing comes amiss, so Mony comes withal.

Hor.
Petruchio, since we are stept 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 fault enough,
Is, that she is intolerable Curs'd,
And shrew'd, 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.

Pet.
Hortensio, peace; thou know'st not Gold's Effect;
Tell me her Father's Name, and 'tis enough:
For I will board her, tho' she chide as loud
As Thunder, when the Clouds in Autumn crack.

Hor.
Her Father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous Gentleman,
Her Name is Katherina Minola,
Renown'd in Padua for her scolding Tongue.

Pet.
I know her Father, tho' I know her not,
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.

Gru.

I pray you, Sir, let him go while the Humour lasts. A my word, and 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, and she stand 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.

Hor.
Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista's House my Treasure is:
He hath the Jewel of my Life in hold,
His youngest Daughter, beautiful Bianca,
And her with-holds he from me. Other more
Sutors to her, and Rivals in my Love:
Supposing it a thing impossible,
For those Defects I have before rehears'd,
That ever Katharine will be woo'd;
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
That none shall have access unto Bianca,
'Till Katherine the Curs'd have got a Husband.

Gru.
Katherine the Curs'd,
A Title for a Maid, of all Titles the worst.

Hor.
Now shall my Friend Petruchio do me grace,
And offer me disguis'd in sober Robes,
To old Baptista as a School-master.
Well seen in Musick 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 her self. Enter Gremio and Lucentio disguised.

Gru.
Here's no Knavery! See, to beguile the old Folks, Master,
How the young Folks lay their Heads together.
Master, look about you: Who comes there? ha.

Hor.
Peace, Grumio, it is the Rival of my Love.
Petruchio, stand by a while.

Gru.
A proper Stripling, and an amorous.

Gre.
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 Paper too,
And let me have them very well perfum'd,
For she is sweeter than Perfume it self
To whom they go: What will you read to her?

Luc.
Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you,
As for my Patron, stand you so assured;
As firmly as your self were still in place,
Yea and perhaps with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a Scholar, Sir.

Gre.
Oh this Learning, what a thing it is.

Gru.
Oh this Woodcock, what an Ass it is.

Pet.
Peace, Sirra.

Hor.
Grumio, mum! God save you, Signior Gremio.

Gre.
And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola;
I promis'd to enquire carefully
About a School-master 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.

Hor.
'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.

Gre.
Belov'd of me, and that my Deeds shall prove.

Gru.
And that his Bags shall prove.

Hor.
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 curs'd Katharine,
Yea, and to Marry her, if her Dowry please.

Gre.
So said, so done, is well;
Hortensio, have you told him all her Faults?

Pet.
I know she is an irksome brawling Scold;
If that be all, Masters, I hear no harm.

Gre.
No, sayest me so, Friend? What Countryman?

Pet.
Born in Verona, old Antonio's Son;
My Father's dead, my Fortune lives for me,
And I do hope good Days, and long, to see.

Gre.
Oh Sir, such a Life with such a Wife were strange;
But if you have a Stomach, to't a God's Name,
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wild Cat?

Pet.
Will I live?

Gru.
Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.

Pet.
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 Heav'n's Artillery thunder in the Skies?
Have I not in a pitched Battel heard
Loud Larums, neighing Steeds, and Trumpets Clangue?
And do you tell me of a Woman's Tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear,
As will a Chesnut in a Farmer's Fire?
Tush, tush, fear Boys with Bugs.

Gru.
For he fears none.

Gre.
Hortensio, hark:
This Gentleman is happily arriv'd,
My Mind presumes for his own good, and yours.

Hor.
I promis'd we would be Contributors,
And bear his Charge of wooing whatsoever.

Gre.
And so we will, provided that he win her.

Gru.
I would I were as sure of a good Dinner. Enter Tranio brave, and Biondello.

Tra.
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?

Bion.

He that has the two fair Daughters; is't he you mean?

Tra.
Even he, Biondello.

Gre.
Hark you, Sir, you mean not her to—

Tra.
Perhaps him and her, what have you to do?

Pet.
Not her that chides, Sir, at any hand, I pray.

Tra.
I love no Chiders, Sir: Biondello, let's away.

Luc.
Well begun, Tranio.

Hor.
Sir, a word e'er you go:
Are you a Sutor to the Maid you talk of, yea or no?

Tra.
And if I be, Sir, is it any Offence?

Gre.
No; if without more words you will get you hence.

Tra.
Why, Sir, I pray, are not the Streets as free
For me, as for you?

Gre.
But so is not she.

Tra.
For what reason, I beseech you.

Gre.
For this reason, if you'll know,
That she's the choice Love of Signior Gremio.

Hor.
That she's the Chosen of Signior Hortensio.

Tra.
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 Sutors have, and me for one.
Fair Læda's Daughter had a thousand Wooers,
Then well may one more fair, Bianca have,
And so she shall. Lucentio shall make one,
Tho' Paris came, in hope to speed alone.

Gre.
What, this Gentleman will out-talk us all.

Luc.
Sir, give him head, I know he'll prove a Jade.

Pet.
Hortensio, to what end are all these words?

Hor.
Sir, let me be so bold as to ask you,
Did you yet ever see Baptista's Daughter?

Tra.
No, Sir; but hear I do that he hath two:
The one as famous for a scolding Tongue,
As is the other for beauteous Majesty.

Pet.
Sir, Sir, the first's for me, let her go by.

Gre.
Yea, leave that Labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more than Alcides twelve.

Pet.
Sir, understand you this of me, insooth,
The youngest Daughter, whom you hearken for,
Her Father keeps from all access of Sutors,
And will not promise her to any Man,

Until the elder Sister first be Wed:
The younger then is free, and not before.

Tra.
If it be so, Sir, that you are the Man
Must steed us all, and me amongst the rest:
And if you break the Ice, and do this feat,
Atchieve the Elder, set the Younger free,
For our access, whose hap shall be to have her,
Will not so graceless be, to be ingrate.

Hor.
Sir, you say well, and well you do conceive;
And since you do profess to be a Sutor,
You must, as we do, gratifie this Gentleman,
To whom we all rest generally beholden.

Tra.
Sir, I shall not be slack, in sign whereof,
Please ye, we may contrive this Afternoon,
And quaff Carouses to our Mistress's Health,
And do as Adversaries do in Law,
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as Friends.

Gru. Bion.
O excellent Motion: Fellows, let's be gone.

Hor.
The Motion's good indeed, and be it so,
Petruchio, I shall be your Ben venuto. [Exeunt. Enter Katharina and Bianca.

Bian.
Good Sister, wrong me not, nor wrong your self,
To make a Bondmaid and a Slave of me;
That I disdain: But for these other Goods,
Unbind my Hands, I'll pull them off my self,
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.

Kath.
Of all thy Sutors here I charge thee tell
Whom thou lov'st best: See thou dissemble not.

Bian.
Believe me, Sister, of all the Men alive.
I never yet beheld that special Face,
Which I could fancy more than any other.

Kath.
Minion, thou liest; is it not Hortensio?

Bian.
If you affect him, Sister, here I swear
I'll plead for you my self, but you shall have him.

Kath.
Oh then belike you fancy Riches more,
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.

Bian.
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 prethee, Sister Kate, untie my Hands.

Kath.
If that be Jest, then all the rest was so. [Strikes her. Enter Baptista.

Bap.
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?

Kath.
Her Silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd. [Flies after Bianca.

Bap.
What in my sight? Bianca, get thee in. [Exit Bian.

Kath.
What, will you not suffer me? Nay, 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 Kath.

Bap.
Was ever Gentleman thus griev'd as I?
But who comes here? Enter Gremio, Lucentio in the Habit of a mean Man, Petruchio with Hortensio like a Musician, Tranio and Biondello bearing a Lute and Books.

Gre.

Good morrow, Neighbour Baptista.

Bap.

Good morrow, Neighbour Gremio: God save you Gentlemen.

Pet.

And you, good Sir: Pray have you not a Daughter call'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?

Bap.
I have a Daughter, Sir, call'd Katharina.

Gre.
You are too blunt, go to it orderly.

Pet.
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 shew my self 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, [Presenting Hor.
I do present you with a Man of mine,

Cunning in Musick, and the Mathematicks,
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.

Bap.
Y'are welcome, Sir, and he for your good sake.
But for my Daughter Katharine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more's my Grief.

Pet.
I see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my Company.

Bap.
Mistake me not, I speak but what I find.
Whence are you, Sir? What may I call your Name?

Pet.
Petruchio is my Name, Antonio's Son,
A Man well known throughout all Italy.

Bap.
I know him well: You are welcome for his sake.

Gre.

Saving your Tale, Petruchio, I pray let us that are poor Petitioners speak too. Baccare, you are marvellous forward.

Pet.

Oh, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be doing.

Gre.
I doubt it not, Sir, but you will curse
Your wooing, Neighbours. This is a Gift
Very grateful, I am sure of it: To express
The like kindness my self, that have been
More kindly beholding to you than any:
Free leave give unto this young Scholar, that hath
Been long studying at Rhemes, as cunning [Presenting Luc.
In Greek, Latin, and other Languages,
As the other in Musick and Mathematicks:
His Name is Cambio; pray accept his Service.

Bap.
A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio:
Welcome, good Cambio. But, gentle Sir,
Methinks you walk like a Stranger, [To Tranio.
May I be so bold, to know the cause of your coming?

Tra.
Pardon me, Sir, the Boldness is mine own,
That being a Stranger in this City here,
Do make my self a Sutor 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.

Bap.
Lucentio is your Name? of whence, I pray?

Tra.
Of Pisa, Sir, Son to Vincentio.

Bap.
A mighty Man of Pisa; by Report
I know him well: You are very welcome, Sir.
Take you the Lute, and you the set of Books,
You shall go see your Pupils presently.
Holla, within. Enter a Servant.
Sirra, lead these Gentlemen
To my two Daughters, and then tell them both
These are their Tutors, bid them use them well.
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 your selves.

Pet.
Signior Baptista, my Business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You know my Father well, and in him me,
Left solely Heir to all his Lands and Goods,
Which I have better'd rather than decreas'd,
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'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.

Bap.
Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
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.

Tho' little Fire grows great with little Wind,
Yet extream 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 arm'd for some unhappy Words.

Pet.
Ay, to the proof, as Mountains are for Winds,
That shake not, tho' they blow perpetually. Enter Hortensio with his Head broke.

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'll sooner prove a Soldier,
Iron may hold with her, but never Lutes.

Bap.
Why then thou canst not break her to the Lute?

Hor.
Why no, for she hath broke the Luke 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 them? quoth she, I'll Fume with them:
And with that word she struck me on the Head,
And through my 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, Fidler,
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;
Oh how I long to have some Chat with her.

Bap.
Well go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practise 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, [Exit Bap. Manet Petruchio.
And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
Say that she Rail, when 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 tho' she bid me stay by her a Week;
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the Day
When I shall ask the Banes, and when be married.
But here she comes, and now Petruchio speak. Enter Katharina.
Good Morrow Kate, for that's your Name I hear.

Kath.

Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing.

Pet.
You lie infaith, 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 Kates; 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,
My self am mov'd to woo thee for my Wife.

Kath.
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.

Pet.
Why, what's a Moveable?

Kath.
A join'd Stool.

Pet.
Thou hast hit it; Come, sit on me.

Kath.
Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

Pet.
Women are made to bear, and so are you.

Kath.
No such Jade, Sir, as you, if me you mean.

Pet.
Alas, good Kate, I will not burthen thee,
For knowing thee to be but young and light—

Kath.
Too light for such a Swain as you to catch,
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

Pet.
Should be! should! buz.

Kath.
Well ta'en, and like a Buzzard.

Pet.
Oh slow-wing'd Turtle, shall a Buzzard take thee?

Kath.
Ay, for a Turtle, as he takes a Buzzard.

Pet.

Come, come you Wasp, I'faith you are too angry.

Kath.

If I be waspish, 'best beware my Sting.

Pet.

My Remedy is then to pluck it out.

Kath.

Ay, if the Fool could find it where it lyes.

Pet.

Who knows not where a Wasp does wear his Sting? In his Tail.

Kath.
In his Tongue.

Pet.
Whose Tongue?

Kath.
Yours if you talk of Tales, and so farewel.

Pet.
What, with my Tongue in your Tail.
Nay, come again, good Kate, I am a Gentleman.

Kath.
That I'll try. [She strikes him.

Pet.
I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.

Kath.
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? Oh put me in thy Books.

Kath.
What is your Crest, a Coxcomb?

Pet.
A combless Cock, so Kate will be my Hen.

Kath.
No Cock of mine, you crow too like a Craven

Pet.
Nay, come Kate; come, you must not look so sower.

Kath.
It is my Fashion when I see a Crab.

Pet.
Why here's no Crab, and therefore look not sower.

Kath.
There is, there is.

Pet.
Then shew it me.

Kath.
Had I a Glass I would.

Pet.
What, you mean my Face.

Kath.
Well aim'd of such a young one.

Pet.
Now, by St. George I am too young for you.

Kath.
Yet you are wither'd.

Pet.
'Tis with Cares.

Kath.
I care not.

Pet.
Nay, hear you Kate. Insooth you 'scape not so.

Kath.
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 courteous,
But slow in Speech, yet sweet as spring-time Flowers.
Thou can'st not frown, thou can'st not look a scance,

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 doth the World report that Kate doth limp?
Oh sland'rous World: Kate, like the Hazle Twig,
Is straight, and slender, and as brown in hue
As Hazle Nuts, and sweeter than the Kernels.
Oh let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.

Kath.
Go Fool, and whom thou keep'st command.

Pet.
Did ever Dian so become a Grove,
As Kate this Chamber with her princely Gate:
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And then let Kate be chast, and Dian sportful.

Kath.
Where did you study all this goodly Speech?

Pet.
It is extempore, from my Mother-wit.

Kath.
A witty Mother, witless else her Son.

Pet.
Am I not wise?

Kath.
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. Enter Baptista, Gremio and Tranio.
For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
And bring you from a wild Cat to a Kate,
Conformable as other Houshold Kates;
Here comes your Father, never make Denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my Wife.

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?

Kath.
Call you me Daughter? Now I promise you
You have shew'd a tender fatherly Regard,
To wish me wed to one half Lunatick,
A madcap Ruffian, and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with Oaths to face the Matter out.

Pet.
Father, 'tis thus; your self 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 forward, 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.

Kath.
I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

Gre.
Hark: Petruchio, she says she'll see thee hang'd first.

Tra.
Is this your Speeding? Nay, then good night our part.

Pet.
Be patient, Gentlemen, I chuse her for my self,
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; oh the kindest Kate,
She hung about my Neck, and kiss and kiss
She vi'd so fast, protesting Oath on Oath,
That in a Twink she won me to her Love.
Oh 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 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 Witnesses.

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 a Sunday. [Exit Petruchio and Katharina.

Gre.
Was ever Match clapt up so suddenly?

Bap.
Faith, Gentleman, now I play a Merchant's Part,
And venture madly on a desparate 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 me 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 guess.

Gre.
Youngling, thou canst not love so Dear as I.

Tra.
Grey-beard, thy Love doth freeze.

Gre.
But thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back; 'Tis Age that nourisheth.

Tra.
But Youth in Ladies Eyes that flourisheth.

Bap.
Content you Gentlemen, I will compound this Strife;
'Tis Deeds must win the Prize, and he of both
That can assure my Daughter greatest Dower,
Shall have 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,
Basons and Ewers to lave her dainty Hands:
My Hangings all of Tirian Tapestry;
In Ivory Coffers I have stuft my Crowns,
In Cypress Chests my Arras Counterpoints;
Costly Apparel, Tents and Canopies,
Fine Linnen, Turkey Cushions bost with Pearl,
Vallens 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,
Sixscore fat Oxen standing in my Stalls;
And all things answerable to this Portion.
My self am stuck 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'll 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 Jointure.
What, have I pincht 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 Argosie
That now is lying in Marsellies Road.
What, have I choakt you with an Argosie?

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, what e'er thou offer'st next.

Gre.
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.

Tra.
Why then the Maid is mine from all the World
By your firm Promise; Gremio is out-vied.

Bap.
I must confess your Offer is the best;
And let your Father make her the same 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 resolv'd,
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. [Exit.

Gro.
Adieu, good Neighbour. Now I fear thee not:
Sirrah, young Gamester, your Father were a Fool
To give thee all, and in his waining 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 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
May 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.