Taming of the Shrew
ACT IV
SCENE I. PETRUCHIO'S country house.
Enter GRUMIO
GRUMIO
Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and
all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever
man so rayed? was ever man so weary? I am sent
before to make a fire, and they are coming after to
warm them. Now, were not I 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, ere I should come by a fire to thaw me: but
I, with blowing the fire, shall warm myself, for,
considering the weather, a taller man than I will
take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis.
Enter CURTIS
CURTIS
Who is that calls so coldly?
GRUMIO
A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide
from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run
but my head and my neck. A fire good Curtis.
CURTIS
Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
GRUMIO
O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire, cast
on no water.
CURTIS
Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
GRUMIO
She was, good Curtis, before this frost: but, thou
knowest, winter tames man, woman and beast, for it
hath tamed my old master and my new mistress and
myself, fellow Curtis.
CURTIS
Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
GRUMIO
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, for being slow in thy hot office?
CURTIS
I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?
GRUMIO
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.
CURTIS
There's fire ready, and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
GRUMIO
Why, 'Jack, boy! ho! boy!' and as much news as
will thaw.
CURTIS
Come, you are so full of cony-catching!
GRUMIO
Why, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold.
Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house
trimmed, rushes strewed, 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,
the carpets laid, and every thing in order?
CURTIS
All ready, and therefore, I pray thee, news.
GRUMIO
First, know, my horse is tired, my master and
mistress fallen out.
CURTIS
How?
GRUMIO
Out of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby
hangs a tale.
CURTIS
Let's ha't, good Grumio.
GRUMIO
Lend thine ear.
CURTIS
Here.
GRUMIO
There.
Strikes him
CURTIS
This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
GRUMIO
And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale: and this
cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech
listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a
foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress,--
CURTIS
Both of one horse?
GRUMIO
What's that to thee?
CURTIS
Why, a horse.
GRUMIO
Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me,
thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she
under her horse, thou shouldst have heard in how
miry a place, how she was bemoiled, 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 prayed,
that never prayed before, how I cried, 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
unexperienced to thy grave.
CURTIS
By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
GRUMIO
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, Sugarsop and the rest: let their heads be
sleekly combed their blue coats brushed and their
garters of an indifferent knit: let them curtsy
with their left legs and not presume to touch a hair
of my master's horse-tail till they kiss their
hands. Are they all ready?
CURTIS
They are.
GRUMIO
Call them forth.
CURTIS
Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to
countenance my mistress.
GRUMIO
Why, she hath a face of her own.
CURTIS
Who knows not that?
GRUMIO
Thou, it seems, that calls for company to
countenance her.
CURTIS
I call them forth to credit her.
GRUMIO
Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
Enter four or five Serving-men
NATHANIEL
Welcome home, Grumio!
PHILIP
How now, Grumio!
JOSEPH
What, Grumio!
NICHOLAS
Fellow Grumio!
NATHANIEL
How now, old lad?
GRUMIO
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?
NATHANIEL
All things is ready. How near is our master?
GRUMIO
E'en at hand, alighted by this, and therefore be
not--Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.
Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA
PETRUCHIO
Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
ALL SERVING-MEN Here, here, sir, here, sir.
Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
GRUMIO
Here, sir, as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCHIO
You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRUMIO
Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the 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.
PETRUCHIO
Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
Exeunt Servants
Singing
Where is the life that late I led--
Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.--
Sound, sound, sound, sound!
Re-enter Servants with supper
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
Sings
It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way:--
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
Strikes him
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here, what, ho!
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?
Enter one with water
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
Strikes him
KATHARINA
Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCHIO
A whoreson beetle-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?
First Servant
Ay.
PETRUCHIO
Who brought it?
PETER
I.
PETRUCHIO
'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?
Theretake it to you, trenchers, cups, and all,
Throws the meat, and c. about the stage
You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
KATHARINA
I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCHIO
I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expressly am forbid to touch it,
For it engenders choler, planteth anger,
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted 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
Re-enter Servants severally
NATHANIEL
Peter, didst ever see the like?
PETER
He kills her in her own humour.
Re-enter CURTIS
GRUMIO
Where is he?
CURTIS
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
Re-enter PETRUCHIO
PETRUCHIO
Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty,
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,
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 bate 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 she 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,
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 show.
Exit
SCENE II. Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
Enter TRANIO and HORTENSIO
TRANIO
Is't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
HORTENSIO
Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.
Enter BIANCA and LUCENTIO
LUCENTIO
Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
BIANCA
What, master, read you? first resolve me that.
LUCENTIO
I read that I profess, the Art to Love.
BIANCA
And may you prove, sir, master of your art!
LUCENTIO
While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!
HORTENSIO
Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I pray,
You that durst swear at your mistress Bianca
Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
TRANIO
O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
HORTENSIO
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.
TRANIO
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.
HORTENSIO
See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
Never to woo her no more, but do forswear her,
As one unworthy all the former favours
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.
TRANIO
And here I take the unfeigned oath,
Never to marry with her though she would entreat:
Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him!
HORTENSIO
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,
Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me
As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard.
And so farewell, 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
TRANIO
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.
BIANCA
Tranio, you jest: but have you both forsworn me?
TRANIO
Mistress, we have.
LUCENTIO
Then we are rid of Licio.
TRANIO
I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
That shall be wood and wedded in a day.
BIANCA
God give him joy!
TRANIO
Ay, and he'll tame her.
BIANCA
He says so, Tranio.
TRANIO
Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCA
The taming-school! what, is there such a place?
TRANIO
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
BIONDELLO
O 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.
TRANIO
What is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLO
Master, a mercatante, or a pedant,
I know not what, but format in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIO
And what of him, Tranio?
TRANIO
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 in your love, and then let me alone.
Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA
Enter a Pedant
Pedant
God save you, sir!
TRANIO
And you, sir! you are welcome.
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
Pedant
Sir, at the farthest for a week or two:
But then up farther, and as for as Rome,
And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
TRANIO
What countryman, I pray?
Pedant
Of Mantua.
TRANIO
Of Mantua, sir? marry, God forbid!
And come to Padua, careless of your life?
Pedant
My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.
TRANIO
'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stay'd 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.
Pedant
Alas! sir, it is worse for me than so,
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence and must here deliver them.
TRANIO
Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this I will advise you:
First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
Pedant
Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIO
Among them know you one Vincentio?
Pedant
I know him not, but I have heard of him,
A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIO
He is my father, sir, and, sooth to say,
In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO
[Aside] As much as an apple doth an oyster,
and all one.
TRANIO
To save your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for his sake,
And think it not the worst of an your fortunes
That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
His name and credit shall you undertake,
And in my house you shall be friendly lodged:
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 courtesy, sir, accept of it.
Pedant
O sir, I do, and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIO
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 dower in marriage
'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.
Exeunt
SCENE III. A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
Enter KATHARINA and GRUMIO
GRUMIO
No, no, forsooth, I dare not for my life.
KATHARINA
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 entreaty have a present aims,
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
With oath kept waking and with brawling fed:
And that which spites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love,
As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
I prithee go and get me some repast,
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRUMIO
What say you to a neat's foot?
KATHARINA
'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
GRUMIO
I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
KATHARINA
I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO
I cannot tell, I fear 'tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
KATHARINA
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIO
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHARINA
Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIO
Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHARINA
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
GRUMIO
Why then, the mustard without the beef.
KATHARINA
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
PETRUCHIO
How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
HORTENSIO
Mistress, what cheer?
KATHARINA
Faith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCHIO
Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Here love, thou see'st how diligent I am
To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee:
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not,
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.
KATHARINA
I pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCHIO
The poorest service is repaid with thanks,
And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
KATHARINA
I thank you, sir.
HORTENSIO
Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
PETRUCHIO
[Aside] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.
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 fardingales and things,
With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery.
What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
Enter Tailor
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments,
Lay forth the gown.
Enter Haberdasher
What news with you, sir?
Haberdasher
Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
PETRUCHIO
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.
KATHARINA
I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these
PETRUCHIO
When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
And not till then.
HORTENSIO
[Aside] That will not be in haste.
KATHARINA
Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will, I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endured 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 uttermost, as I please, in words.
PETRUCHIO
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 likest it not.
KATHARINA
Love me or love me not, I like the cap,
And it I will have, or I will have none.
Exit Haberdasher
PETRUCHIO
Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
What, up and down, carved 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, i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?
HORTENSIO
[Aside] I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.
Tailor
You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCHIO
Marry, and did, but if you be remember'd,
I did not bid you mar 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.
KATHARINA
I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCHIO
Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee.
Tailor
She says your worship means to make
a puppet of her.
PETRUCHIO
O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
thou thimble,
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
Braved 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 livest!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
Tailor
Your worship is deceived, the gown is made
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIO
I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
Tailor
But how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIO
Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
Tailor
But did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIO
Thou hast faced many things.
Tailor
I have.
GRUMIO
Face not me: thou hast braved many men, brave not
me, I will neither be faced nor braved. 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.
Tailor
Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
PETRUCHIO
Read it.
GRUMIO
The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
Tailor
[Reads] 'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:'
GRUMIO
Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in
the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom
of brown thread: I said a gown.
PETRUCHIO
Proceed.
Tailor
[Reads] 'With a small compassed cape:'
GRUMIO
I confess the cape.
Tailor
[Reads] 'With a trunk sleeve:'
GRUMIO
I confess two sleeves.
Tailor
[Reads] 'The sleeves curiously cut.'
PETRUCHIO
Ay, there's the villany.
GRUMIO
Error i' the bill, sir, error i' the bill.
I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and
sewed up again, and that I'll prove upon thee,
though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
Tailor
This is true that I say: an I had thee
in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIO
I am for thee straight: take thou the
bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIO
God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCHIO
Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIO
You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.
PETRUCHIO
Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
GRUMIO
Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress'
gown for thy master's use!
PETRUCHIO
Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
GRUMIO
O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
O, fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCHIO
[Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
Go take it hence, be gone, and say no more.
HORTENSIO
Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow:
Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
Away! I say, commend me to thy master.
Exit Tailor
PETRUCHIO
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 fathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, 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 frolic: 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.
KATHARINA
I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two,
And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCHIO
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.
HORTENSIO
[Aside] Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
Exeunt
SCENE IV. Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
Enter TRANIO, and the Pedant dressed like VINCENTIO
TRANIO
Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?
Pedant
Ay, what else? and but I be deceived
Signior Baptista may remember me,
Near twenty years ago, in Genoa,
Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
TRANIO
'Tis well, and hold your own, in any case,
With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.
Pedant
I warrant you.
Enter BIONDELLO
But, sir, here comes your boy,
'Twere good he were school'd.
TRANIO
Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
Now do your duty throughly, I advise you:
Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLO
Tut, fear not me.
TRANIO
But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLO
I told him that your father was at Venice,
And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO
Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir.
Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO
Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
To the Pedant
Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of:
I pray you stand good father to me now,
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
Pedant
Soft son!
Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And, for the good report I hear of you
And for the love he beareth to your daughter
And she to him, to stay him not too long,
I am content, in a good father's care,
To have him match'd, and if you please to like
No worse than I, upon some agreement
Me shall you find ready and willing
With one consent to have her so bestow'd,
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
BAPTISTA
Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
Right true it is, your son Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter and she loveth him,
Or both dissemble deeply their affections:
And therefore, if you say no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him
And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
The match is made, and all is done:
Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
TRANIO
I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
We be affied and such assurance ta'en
As shall with either part's agreement stand?
BAPTISTA
Not in my house, Lucentio, for, you know,
Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants:
Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still,
And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIO
Then at my lodging, an it like you:
There doth my father lie, and there, this night,
We'll pass the business privately and well.
Send for your daughter by your servant here:
My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
The worst is this, that, at so slender warning,
You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
BAPTISTA
It likes me well. Biondello, hie you home,
And bid Bianca make her ready straight,
And, if you will, tell what hath happened,
Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua,
And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.
BIONDELLO
I pray the gods she may with all my heart!
TRANIO
Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
Exit BIONDELLO
Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer:
Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa.
BAPTISTA
I follow you.
Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA
Re-enter BIONDELLO
BIONDELLO
Cambio!
LUCENTIO
What sayest thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO
You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
LUCENTIO
Biondello, what of that?
BIONDELLO
Faith, nothing, but has left me here behind, to
expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
LUCENTIO
I pray thee, moralize them.
BIONDELLO
Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the
deceiving father of a deceitful son.
LUCENTIO
And what of him?
BIONDELLO
His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
LUCENTIO
And then?
BIONDELLO
The old priest of Saint Luke's church is at your
command at all hours.
LUCENTIO
And what of all this?
BIONDELLO
I cannot tell, expect they are busied about a
counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her,
'cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum:' to the
church, take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient
honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for,
I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewell for
ever and a day.
LUCENTIO
Hearest thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO
I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an
afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to
stuff a rabbit, and so may you, sir: and so, adieu,
sir. My master hath appointed me to go to Saint
Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against
you come with your appendix.
Exit
LUCENTIO
I may, and will, if she be so contented:
She will be pleased, then wherefore should I doubt?
Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:
It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.
Exit
SCENE V. A public road.
Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, HORTENSIO, and Servants
PETRUCHIO
Come on, i' God's name, once more toward our father's.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
KATHARINA
The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now.
PETRUCHIO
I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
KATHARINA
I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
PETRUCHIO
Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself,
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house.
Go on, and fetch our horses back again.
Evermore cross'd and cross'd, nothing but cross'd!
HORTENSIO
Say as he says, or we shall never go.
KATHARINA
Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please:
An if you please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
PETRUCHIO
I say it is the moon.
KATHARINA
I know it is the moon.
PETRUCHIO
Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.
KATHARINA
Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun:
But sun it is not, when you say it is not,
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it named, even that it is,
And so it shall be so for Katharina.
HORTENSIO
Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won.
PETRUCHIO
Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But, soft! company is coming here.
Enter VINCENTIO
To VINCENTIO
Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away?
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
HORTENSIO
A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
KATHARINA
Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of so fair a child,
Happier the man, whom favourable stars
Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
PETRUCHIO
Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
KATHARINA
Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
That have been so bedazzled with the sun
That everything I look on seemeth green:
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father,
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
PETRUCHIO
Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.
VINCENTIO
Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
PETRUCHIO
What is his name?
VINCENTIO
Lucentio, gentle sir.
PETRUCHIO
Happily we met, the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee my loving father:
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be grieved: she is of good esteem,
Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth,
Beside, so qualified as may beseem
The spouse of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio,
And wander we to see thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
VINCENTIO
But is it true? or else is it your pleasure,
Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
Upon the company you overtake?
HORTENSIO
I do assure thee, father, so it is.
PETRUCHIO
Come, go along, and see the truth hereof,
For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
Exeunt all but HORTENSIO
HORTENSIO
Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
Have to my widow! and if she be froward,
Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
Exit