Bianca.
Luc.
Fidler, forbear; you grow too forward, Sir:
Have you so soon forgot the Entertainment
Her Sister Katharine welcom'd you withal?
Hor.
But wrangling Pedant, this is
The Patroness of Heav'nly Harmony;
Then give me leave to have Prerogative;
And when in Musick we 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 Musick was ordain'd:
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.
Bian.
Why, Gentlemen, you do me double Wrong,
To strive for that which resteth in my Choice:
I am no breeching Scholar in the Schools;
I'll not be tied to Hour, nor pointed Times,
But learn my Lessons as I please my self;
And to cut off all Strife, here sit we down,
Take you your Instrument, play you the whiles,
His Lecture will be done e'er you have tun'd.
Hor.
You'll leave this Lecture when I am in Tune?
Luc.
That will be never: Tune your Instrument.
-- 704 --
Bian.
Where left we last?
Luc.
Here, Madam: Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus,
hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian.
Construe them.
Luc.
Hic ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio,
hic est, Son unto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeia tellus, disguised
thus to get your Love, hic 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.
Bian.
Let's hear. O fie, the Treble jars.
Luc.
Spit in the Hole, Man, and tune again.
Bian.
Now let me see if I can construe it: Hic that, Simois,
I know you not, hic est sigeia tellus, I trust you not, hic
steterat Priami, take heed he hear us not, regia, presume not,
celsa senis, despair not.
Hor.
Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc.
All but the Base.
Hor.
The Base is right; 'tis the base Knave that jars.
Luc.
How fiery and froward our Pedant is!
Now for my Life that Knave doth court my Love;
Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet:
In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Bian.
Mistrust it not, for sure Æacides
Was Ajax, call'd so from his Grandfather.
I must believe my Master, else I promise you,
I should be arguing still upon that Doubt;
But let it rest. Now Licio to you:
Good Master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
Hor.
You may go walk, and give me leave a while;
My Lessons make not Musick in three Parts.
Luc.
Are you so formal, Sir? well, I must wait,
And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
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,
-- 705 --
Than hath been taught by any of my Trade;
And there it is in Writing fairly drawn.
Bian.
Why, I am past my Gamut long ago.
Hor.
Yet read the Gamut of Hortensio.
Bian.
Gamut I am, the Ground of all Accord,
Are, to plead Hortensio's Passion,
Beeme, Bianca, take him for thy Lord,
Cfaut, that loves thee with all Affection,
D sol re, one Cliff, two Notes have I,
Elami, 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 old Inventions.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
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.
Bian.
Farewel, sweet Masters both; I must be gone.
[Ex.
Luc.
Faith Mistress, then I have no Cause to stay.
[Exit.
Hor.
But I have Cause to pry into this Pedant;
Methinks he looks as tho' he were in love:
Yet if thy Thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
To cast thy wandring Eyes on every Stale;
Seize thee that list; if once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.
[Exit.
Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Katharina, Lucentio, Bianca, and Attendants.
Bap.
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?
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,
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,
-- 706 --
He'll woo a thousand, point the Day of Marriage,
Make Friends, invite yes, and proclaim the Banes;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now must the World point at poor Katharina,
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.
Tho' he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
Kath.
Would Katharine had never seen him tho'.
[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; old News, and such News as you
never heard of.
Bap.
Is it new and old too? How may that be?
Bion.
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 thy old News?
Bion.
Why Petruchio is coming in a new Hat and an old
Jerkin; a Pair of old Breeches thrice turn'd; a Pair of
Boots that have been Candle-Cases, one 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 Stirrops of
no Kindred, besides possest with the Glanders, and like to
mose in the Chine, troubled with the Lampasse, infected
with the Fashions, full of Windgalls, sped with Spavins, raied
with the Yellows, past Cure of the Fives, stark spoil'd with
the Staggers, begnawn with the Bots, waid in the Back, and
Shoulder-shotten, near leg'd before, and with a half checkt
Bit, and a Headstall of Sheep's Leather, which being restrain'd
-- 707 --
to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst,
and now repair'd with Knots; one Girth six times piec'd,
and a Woman's Crupper of Velure, which hath two Letters
for her Name, fairly set down in Studs, and here and
there piec'd with Packthred.
Bap.
Who comes witk him?
Bion.
Oh Sir, his Lackey, for all the World comparison'd
like the Horse, with a linnen Stock on one Leg, and a
kersey Boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a red and blue
List, an old Hat, and the Humour of forty Fancies prickt
up in't for a Feather: A Monster, a very Monster in Apparel,
and not like a Christian Foot-boy, or 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's 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 St. Jamy, I hold you a Penny, a Horse
and a Man is more than one, and yet not many.
Enter Petruchio and Grumio fantastically habited.
Pet.
Come, where be these Gallants? 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.
-- 708 --
Tra.
And tell us what Occasion of Import
Hath all so long detain'd you from your Wife,
And sent you hither so unlike your self?
Pet.
Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
Sufficeth I am come to keep my Word,
Tho' 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 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 ha' done with Words;
To me she's married, not unto my Clothes:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could change these poor Accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate, and better for my self.
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.
Tra.
He hath some Meaning in his mad Attire:
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better e'er he go to Church.
Bap.
I'll after him, and see the Event of this.
[Exit.
Tra.
But, Sir, Love concerneth us to add
Her Father's liking; which to bring to pass,
As before I imparted to your Worship,
I am to get a Man; what e'er he be
It skills not much; we'll fit him to our Turn,
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
And make Assurance here in Padua,
Of greater Sums than I have promised:
So shall you quietly enjoy your Hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with Consent.
Luc.
Were it not that my fellow School-master
Doth watch Bianca's Steps so narrowly,
'Twere good methinks to steal our Marriage;
-- 709 --
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 Gray-beard Gremio,
The narrow prying Father Minola,
The quaint Musician amorous Licio;
All for my Master's sake Lucentio.
Enter Gremio.
Signior Gremio, came you from the Church?
Gre.
As willingly as e'er I came from School.
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.
Gra.
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-woons, 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 carowzing to his Mates
After a Storm; quaft off the Muscadel,
And threw the Sops all in the Sexton's Face;
Having no other Reason, but that his Beard
Grew thin and hungerly, and seem'd to ask
His Sops as he was drinking. This done, he took
The Bride about the Neck, and kist her Lips
With such a clamorous Smack, that at the Parting
All the Church did Eccho; and I seeing this,
-- 710 --
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, Katharina, 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 intreat me rather go than stay.
And honest Company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away my self
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 Horse.
Gru.
Ay, Sir, they be ready; the Oats have eaten the Horses.
Kath.
Nay then
Do what thou canst, I will not go to Day;
No, nor to Morrow, nor 'till I please my self:
The Door is open, Sir, there lyes your way,
You may be jogging whiles your Boots are green.
For me, I'll not be gone 'till I please my self:
'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly Groom,
That take it on you at the first so roundly.
Pet.
O Kate, content thee; prethee be not angry.
-- 711 --
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;
Carowse full Measure to her Maiden-head;
Be mad and merry, or go hang your selves;
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 who ever dare;
I'll bring my Action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua: Grumio,
Draw forth thy Weapon; we are 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.
[Exeunt Pet. and Kath.
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 her self, she's madly mated.
Gre.
I warrant him Petruchio is Kated.
Bap.
Neighbours and Friends, tho' 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.
-- 712 --
Enter Grumio.
Gru.
Fie, fie on all tired Jades, on all mad Masters, and
all foul ways: Was ever Man so beaten? was ever Man so
raide? was ever Man so weary? I am sent before to make
a Fire, and they are coming after to warm them: Now were
I not 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, e'er I should come by a Fire to thaw
me; but I with blowing the Fire shall warm my self; for
considering the Weather, a taller Man than I will take cold:
Holla, holla, Curtis!
Enter Curtis.
Curt.
Who is it 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.
Curt.
Is my Master and his Wife coming, Grumio?
Gru.
Oh ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore Fire, Fire, cast on
no Water.
Curt.
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 my self,
fellow Curtis.
Curt.
Away, you three-inch'd Fool; I am no Beast.
Gru.
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, being slow in thy hot Office.
Curt.
I prethee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the
World?
Gru.
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.
Curt.
There's Fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio,
the News.
Gru.
Why, Jack Boy, ho Boy, and as much News as
thou wilt.
Curt.
Come, you are so full of Conycatching.
Gru.
Why therefore Fire; for I have caught extream cold.
-- 713 --
Where's the Cook? is Supper ready, the House trimm'd,
Rushes strew'd, Cobwebs swept, the Serving-men in their
new Fustian, their white Stockings, and every Officer his
wedding Garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills
fair without, Carpets laid, and every thing in order?
Cur.
All ready: And therefore I pray thee what 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.
Gru.
Lend thine Ear.
Gru.
Here.
Gru.
There.
[Strikes him.
Cur.
This 'tis to feel a Tale, not to hear a Tale.
Gru.
And therefore 'tis call'd a sensible Tale: and this
Cuff was but to knock at your Ear, and beseech listning.
Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a foul Hill, my
Master riding behind my Mistress.
Cur.
Both on one Horse?
Gru.
What's that to thee?
Cur.
Why a Horse.
Gru.
Tell thou the Tale. But hadst thou not crost me,
thou should'st have heard how her Horse fell, and she under
her Horse: thou should'st have heard in how miery a place,
how she was bemoil'd, how he left her with the Horse upon
her, how he beat me because her Horse stumbled, 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
the Grave.
Cur.
By this reckoning 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, Sugersop,
and the rest: Let their Heads be slickly comb'd, their blue
Coats brush'd, and their Garters of an indifferent knit; let
them curtsie with their left Legs, and not presume to touch
-- 714 --
a hair of my Master's Horse Tail, 'till they kiss their Hands.
Are they all ready?
Cur.
They are.
Gru.
Call them forth.
Cur.
Do you hear, ho? You must meet my Master to
Countenance my Mistress.
Gru.
Why she hath a Face of her own.
Cur.
Who knows not that?
Gru.
Thou it seems, that calls for Company to Countenance
her.
Cur.
I call them forth to Credit her.
Enter four or five Serving-Men.
Gru.
Why she comes to borrow nothing of them.
Nat.
Welcome home, Grumio.
Phil.
How now, Grumio?
Jos.
What, Grumio!
Nick.
Fellow Grumio!
Nath.
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?
Nat.
All things are ready; how near is our Master?
Gru.
E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be
not—Cocks Passion, silence, I hear my Master.
Enter Petruchio and Kate.
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 Ser.
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 the 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,
-- 715 --
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, they come to meet you.
Pet.
Go, Rascals, go and fetch my Supper in.
[Exit Ser.
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 Rogues: You Villains, when?
It was the Friars of Orders grey,
[Sings.
As he forth walked on his way.
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?
Kat.
Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.
Pet.
A whoreson, beetle-headed, flat-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 heedless Jolt-heads, and unmanner'd Slaves.
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
Kat.
I pray you, Husband, be not so disquiet,
The Meat was well, if you were so contented.
-- 716 --
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-rosted 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.
[Exeunt.
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.
Cur.
In her Chamber, making a Sermon of Continency
to her, and rails, and swears, and rates, and 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.
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, another way the Sheets;
Ay, and amid this hurly I intend,
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,
-- 717 --
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.
Enter Tranio and Hortensio.
Tra.
Is't possible, Friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, Sir, she bears me fair in hand.
Hor.
Sir, to satisfie you in what I have said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching.
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 to Love.
Bian.
And may you prove, Sir, Master of your Art.
Luc.
While you, sweet Dear, prove Mistress of my Heart.
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.
Oh 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
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 with her, tho' she would entreat.
Fie on her, see how beastly she doth court him.
Hor.
Would all the World but he had quite forsworn.
For me, that I may surely keep mine Oath,
I will be Married to a wealthy Widow,
-- 718 --
E'er 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.
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 is 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.
Bion.
Oh Master, Master, I have watch'd so long,
That I am Dog-weary; but at last I 'spied
An ancient Angel coming down the Hill
Will serve the turn.
Tra.
What is he, Biondello?
Bion.
Master, a Marcantant, or a Pedant;
I know not what; but formal in Apparel;
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 assurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio:
Take me your Love, and then let me alone.
[Ex. Luc. & 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?
-- 719 --
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; marry 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 are 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 I will 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.
-- 720 --
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 Dowry 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.
Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
