That, hearing of her beauty, and her wit,
Her affability, and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,-
Am bold to shew myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eyes the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine

[Presenting HORTENSIO.

Cunning in music, and the mathematics,
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. You're welcome, sir; and he for your good But for my daughter Katharine,-this I know, [sake: She is not for your turn, the more 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 as 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. [doing. Pet. O, pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be Gre. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.

Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholden to you than any, I freely give unto you this young scholar, [presenting LUCENTIO.] that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and mathematics: his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service.

Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio.-But gentle sir, [to TRANIO.] methinks you walk like a stranger; 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 myself a suitor 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,

Ι

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 [to HoR.] the lute, and you [to Luc.] the set
You shall go see your pupils presently. [of books,
Holla, within!

And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew 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 specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, This 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: Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme 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, though they blow perpetually.

I

Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. [pale? Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good muIron may hold with her, but never lutes. Hor. I think, she 'll sooner prove a soldier; [sician?

Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
did but tell her, she mistook her frets,
Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
And, with that word she struck me on the head,
Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume with them:
And through the 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 fiddler,
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:
O, how I long to have some chat with her!

Bup. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited:
Proceed in practice 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,

And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, & HOR.
Say, that she rail; Why, 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:
As though she bid me stay by her a week;
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, 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;

They call me-Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. You lie, in faith; 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 cates; 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,)

Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife. [hither,
Kath. Mov'd! in good time: let him that mov'd you
Remove you hence: I knew you at the first,

You were a moveable.

Pet.

Why, what's a moveable?

Kath. A joint-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 burden 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. [thee? Pet. O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too anKath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. [gry Pet. My remedy is then to pluck it out. Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his In his tail.

Kath. In his tongue. Pet.

[sting?

Whose tongue?

Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewell. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come Good Kate; I am a gentleman. Kath. That I'll try.

[again, [Striking 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? O 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
Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab. [sour.
Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not
Kath. There is, there is,
[sour.
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 Saint George, I am too young for you.
Kath. Yet you are withered.

Pet.
'Tis with cares.
Kath.
I care not.
Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you 'scape not
Kath. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go. [so.
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 canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
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 does the world report, that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world! Kate, like the hazel-twig.
Is straight, and slender; and as brown in hue,
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, 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 gait?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!
Kath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Per. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Kath. A witty mother! witless else her son.
Pet. Am 1 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;
For I am he, am born to tame you Kate;
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate
Conformable, as other household Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.

Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO.
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 lunatic;

A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pet. Father, 'tis thus,-yourself and all the world,
That talk'd of her, hath talk'd amiss of her;
If she be curst, it is for policy:
For she's not froward, 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.
[our part!
Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night
Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for my-
If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you? [self;
'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 :-O, the kindest Kate!-
She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, 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. [hands ; Bap. I know not what to say: but give me your 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 o' Sunday.
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA, severally.
Gre. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's
And venture madly on a desperate mart. [part,
Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
"Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Bap. The gain I seek is quiet in 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'll 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 Tyrian tapestry :
In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house or house-keeping: 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.
Myself am struck 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's 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 pinch'd 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 argosy?
That now is lying in Marseilles' road :-
What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?

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, whate'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 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:

[Exit.

And so I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbour;-now I fear thee not
Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all, and in his waning age,
Set foot under thy table: Tut! a toy!
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide'
Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.
'Tis in my head to do my master good:-
I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio
Must 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.

ACT III.

;

[Eait.

SCENE I.-A Room in Baptista's House.

Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.
Luc. Fiddler, 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 heavenly harmony:
Then give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in music 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 music 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 hours, nor 'pointed times,
But learn my lessons as I please myself.
And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down :-
Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
His lecture will be done ere you have tun'd.
Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
[TO BIANCA.-HORTENSIO retires.
Luc. That will be never;-tune your instrument.
Bian. Where left we last?

Luc. Here, madam :

Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;

Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac 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. [Returning

Bap. And yet you halt not.
Tra.

As I wish you were.

Not so well apparell'd

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 we were sad, fearing you would not come ; Now sadder, that you come so unprovided. Fye! doff this habit, shame to your estate, An eye-sore to our solemn festival.

Tra. And tell us, what occasion of import Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear : Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word, Though in some part enforced to digress; 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 clothes of mine.

Pet. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her. Bup. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her. Pet. Good sooth, even thus; therefore have done with To me she's married, not unto my clothes: [words; Could I repair what she will wear in me, As I can change these poor accoutrements, 'Twere well for Kate, and better for myself. But what a fool am I, to chat with you, When I should bid good-morrow to my bride, And seal the title with a lovely kiss!

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMIO, and BIONDELLO. Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire: We will persuade him, be it possible, To put on better ere he go to church.

Bap. I'll after him, and see the event of this. [Exit. Tra. But, sir, to her love concerneth us to add Her father's liking: Which to bring to pass As I before imparted to your worship,

I am to get a man,-whate'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 schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
Which once perform'd, let all the world say-no,
I'll keep mine own, despite 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 greybeard, Gremio,

The narrow-prying father, Minola; The quaint musician, amorous Licio; All for my master's sake, Lucentio.Re-enter GREMIO.

Signior Gremio! came you from the church?
Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school?
Tra. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
Gre. A bridegroom, say you? 'tis a groom, indeed,
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
Tra. Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
Tra. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
Gre. Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I'll tell you, sir Lucentio ; When the priest
Should ask-if Katharine should be his wife,
Ay, by gogs-wouns, quoth he; and swore so loud,
That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book:
And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
The 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 arose again?
Gre. Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd,
As if the vicar meant to cozen him. [and swore,
But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine :-A health, quoth he; as if
He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
After a storm :-Quaff'd 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 him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck;
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,
That, at the parting, all the church did echo.
I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
And after me, I know, the rout is coming:
Such a mad marriage never was before;
Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.
Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, Baptista,
HORTENSIO, GRUMIO, and Train.

[Music.

Pet. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your I know, you think to dine with me to-day, [pains: And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer; But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

Bap. Is 't possible, you will away to-night? Pet. I must away to-day, before night come :Make it no wonder; if you knew my business, You would entreat me rather go than stay. And, honest company, I thank you all, That have beheld me give away myself To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife : Dine with my father, drink a health to me; For I must hence, and farewell to you all. Tra. Let us entreat you stay till after dinner. Pet. It may not be. Gre.

Pet. It cannot be.

Kath.

Pet. I am content.

Kath.

Let me entreat you.

Let me entreat you.

Are you content to stay? Pet. I am content you shall entreat me stay. But yet not stay, entreat me how you can. Kath. Now, if you love me, stay.

Pet.