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J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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ACT V. SCENE I. Padua. Before Lucentio's House. Enter on one side Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca; Gremio walking on the other side.

Bion.

Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.

Luc.

I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home: therefore leave us.

Bion.

Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and then come back to my master as soon as I can9 note.

[Exeunt Lucentio, Bianca, and Biondello.

Gre.

I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.

-- 189 --

Enter Petruchio, Katharina, Vincentio, and Attendants.

Pet.
Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house:
My father's bears more toward the market-place;
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.

Vin.
You shall not choose but drink before you go.
I think, I shall command your welcome here,
And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.
[Knocks.

Gre.

They're busy within; you were best knock louder.

Enter Pedant above, at a window.

Ped.

What's he, that knocks as he would beat down the gate?

Vin.

Is signior Lucentio within, sir?

Ped.

He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.

Vin.

What, if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withal?

Ped.

Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall need none, so long as I live.

Pet.

Nay, I told you, your son was beloved in Padua. —Do you hear, sir? to leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you, tell signior Lucentio, that his father is come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.

Ped.

Thou liest: his father is come from Pisa1 note, and here looking out at the window.

Vin.

Art thou his father?

Ped.

Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.

Pet.

Why, how now, gentleman! [To Vincen.] why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another man's name.

Ped.

Lay hands on the villain. I believe, 'a means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.

-- 190 --

Re-enter Biondello.

Bion.

I have seen them in the church together: God send 'em good shipping!—But who is here? mine old master, Vincentio! now we are undone, and brought to nothing.

Vin.

Come hither, crack-hemp2 note


.

[Seeing Biondello.

Bion.

I hope I may choose, sir.

Vin.

Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?

Bion.

Forgot you? no, sir: I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.

Vin.

What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master's father, Vincentio?

Bion.

What, my old, worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir: see where he looks out of the window.

Vin.

Is't so, indeed?

[Beats Biondello.

Bion.

Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.

[Exit.

Ped.

Help, son! help, signior Baptista!

[Exit, from the window.

Pet.

Pr'ythee, Kate, let's stand aside, and see the end of this controversy.

[They retire. Re-enter Pedant below; Baptista, Tranio, and Servants.

Tra.

Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my servant?

Vin.

What am I, sir? nay, what are you, sir?—O, immortal gods! O, fine villain! A silken doublet! a

-- 191 --

velvet hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat3 note!—O, I am undone! I am undone! while I play the good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.

Tra.

How now! what's the matter?

Bap.

What, is the man lunatic?

Tra.

Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir, what 'cerns it you4 note if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.

Vin.

Thy father? O, villain! he is a sail-maker in Bergamo.

Bap.

You mistake, sir: you mistake, sir. Pray, what do you think is his name?

Vin.

His name? as if I knew not his name: I have brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.

Ped.

Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio; and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, signior Vincentio.

Vin.

Lucentio! O! he hath murdered his master.— Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the duke's name.— O, my son, my son!—tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?

Tra.

Call forth an officer.

Enter one with an Officer.

Carry this mad knave to the jail.—Father Baptista, I charge you see that he be forthcoming.

Vin.

Carry me to the jail!

Gre.

Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.

Bap.

Talk not, signior Gremio. I say, he shall go to prison.

-- 192 --

Gre.

Take heed, signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched5 note in this business. I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.

Ped.

Swear, if thou darest.

Gre.

Nay, I dare not swear it.

Tra.

Then thou wert best say, that I am not Lucentio.

Gre.

Yes, I know thee to be signior Lucentio.

Bap.

Away with the dotard! to the jail with him!

Vin.

Thus strangers may be haled and abused. 11Q0392—O, monstrous villain!

Re-enter Biondello with Lucentio, and Bianca.

Bion.

O, we are spoiled! and yonder he is: deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.

Luc.
Pardon, sweet father.
[Kneeling.

Vin.
Lives my sweet son6 note?
[Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant run out7 note.

Bian.
Pardon, dear father.
[Kneeling.

Bap.
How hast thou offended?—
Where is Lucentio?

Luc.
Here's Lucentio,
Right son to the right Vincentio;
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne8 note.

Gre.

Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!

Vin.
Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?

Bap.
Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?

Bian.
Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.

Luc.
Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love

-- 193 --


Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did bear my countenance in the town;
And happily I have arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to,
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.

Vin.

I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent me to the jail.

Bap. [To Lucentio.]

But do you hear, sir? Have you married my daughter without asking my goodwill?

Vin.

Fear not, Baptista; we will content you: go to; but I will in, to be revenged for this villany.

[Exit.

Bap.
And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.
[Exit.

Luc.
Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
[Exeunt Luc. and Bian.

Gre.
My cake is dough9 note; but I'll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.
[Exit. Petruchio and Katharina advance.

Kath.
Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.

Pet.
First kiss me, Kate, and we will.

Kath.
What, in the midst of the street?

Pet.
What! art thou ashamed of me?

Kath.
No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.

Pet.
Why, then let's home again.—Come, sirrah, let's away.

Kath.
Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.

Pet.
Is not this well?—Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late.
[Exeunt.

-- 194 --

SCENE II. A Room in Lucentio's House. A Banquet set out; Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio, Bianca, Petruchio, Katharina, Hortensio, and Widow. Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and others, attending1 note

.

Luc.
At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
And time it is, when raging war is done2 note,
To smile at 'scapes and perils overblown. 11Q0393
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.—
Brother Petruchio,—sister Katharina,—
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
For now we sit to chat, as well as eat.
[They sit at table.

Pet.
Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!

Bap.
Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.

Pet.
Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

Hor.
For both our sakes I would that word were true.

Pet.
Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.

Wid.
Then, never trust me, if I be afeard.

Pet.
You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:

-- 195 --


I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you.

Wid.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.

Pet.
Roundly replied.

Kath.
Mistress, how mean you that?

Wid.
Thus I conceive by him.

Pet.
Conceives by me!—How likes Hortensio that?

Hor.
My widow says, thus she conceives her tale.

Pet.
Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.

Kath.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:—
I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

Wid.
Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe.
And now you know my meaning.

Kath.
A very mean meaning.

Wid.
Right, I mean you.

Kath.
And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.

Pet.
To her, Kate!

Hor.
To her, widow!

Pet.
A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.

Hor.
That's my office.

Pet.
Spoke like an officer:—Ha' to thee, lad.
[Drinks to Hortensio.

Bap.
How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?

Gre.
Believe me, sir, they butt together well.

Bian.
Head and butt? an hasty-witted body
Would say, your head and butt were head and horn.

Vin.
Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you?

Bian.
Ay, but not frighted me; therefore, I'll sleep again.

Pet.
Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
Have at you for a better jest or two3 note.

Bian.
Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush,

-- 196 --


And then pursue me as you draw your bow.—
You are welcome all. [Exeunt Bianca, Katharina, and Widow.

Pet.
She hath prevented me.—Here, signior Tranio;
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not:
Therefore, a health to all that shot and miss'd.

Tra.
O sir! Lucentio slipp'd me, like his greyhound,
Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

Pet.
A good swift simile, but something currish.

Tra.
'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself:
'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay.

Bap.
O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.

Luc.
I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.

Hor.
Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here?

Pet.
'A has a little gall'd me, I confess;
And, as the jest did glance away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

Bap.
Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

Pet.
Well, I say no: and therefore, for assurance4 note,
Let's each one send unto his wife, 11Q0394
And he, whose wife is most obedient
To come at first when he doth send for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.

Hor.
Content. What is the wager?

Luc.
Twenty crowns.

Pet.
Twenty crowns!
I'll venture so much of my hawk, or hound5 note,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.

Luc.
A hundred then.

Hor.
Content.

Pet.
A match! 'tis done.

Hor.
Who shall begin?

-- 197 --

Luc.
That will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

Bion.
I go.
[Exit.

Bap.
Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes.

Luc.
I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself. Re-enter Biondello.
How now! what news?

Bion.
Sir, my mistress sends you word,
That she is busy, and she cannot come.

Pet.
How! she is busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?

Gre.
Ay, and a kind one too:
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

Pet.
I hope better.

Hor.
Sirrah, Biondello, go, and entreat my wife
To come to me forthwith.
[Exit Biondello.

Pet.
O ho! entreat her!
Nay, then she must needs come.

Hor.
I am afraid, sir,
Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. Re-enter Biondello.
Now, where's my wife?

Bion.
She says, you have some goodly jest in hand;
She will not come: she bids you come to her.

Pet.
Worse and worse: she will not come? O vile!
Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress; say,
I command her come to me.
[Exit Grumio.

Hor.
I know her answer.

Pet.
What?

Hor.
She will not.

Pet.
The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Enter Katharina.

Bap.
Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!

-- 198 --

Kath.
What is your will, sir, that you send for me?

Pet.
Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?

Kath.
They sit conferring by the parlour fire.

Pet.
Go, fetch them hither: if they deny to come,
Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
[Exit Katharina.

Luc.
Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.

Hor.
And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.

Pet.
Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
An awful rule, and right supremacy;
And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.

Bap.
Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.

Pet.
Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience. Re-enter Katharina, with Bianca and Widow.
See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.—
Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.
[Katharina pulls off her cap, and throws it down.

Wid.
Lord! let me never have a cause to sigh,
Till I be brought to such a silly pass!

Bian.
Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?

Luc.
I would, your duty were as foolish too:
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost me an hundred crowns6 note since supper-time. 11Q0395

Bian.
The more fool you for laying on my duty.

-- 199 --

Pet.
Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.

Wid.
Come, come, you're mocking: we will have no telling.

Pet.
Come on, I say; and first begin with her.

Wid.
She shall not.

Pet.
I say, she shall:—and first begin with her.

Kath.
Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet, or amiable.
A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance; commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?—
I am asham'd, that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.

-- 200 --


Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms,
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason, haply, more
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most, which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs7 note, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Pet.
Why, there's a wench!—Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

Luc.
Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't.

Vin.
'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.

Luc.
But a harsh hearing, when women are froward.

Pet.
Come, Kate, we'll to bed.—
We three are married, but you two are sped.
'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white8 note; [To Lucentio.
And, being a winner, God give you good night.
[Exeunt Petruchio and Kath.

Hor.
Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curst shrew.

Luc.
'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.
[Exeunt.

-- 201 --

Previous section


J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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