SCENE II. — The same. Before Baptista's House. Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, [to TRANIO.] 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,
He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
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:
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

Kath. 'Would Katharine had never seen him though!

[Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA, and others. 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! news, 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 thine old news. Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turned; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no

kindred: besides, possessed with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er legged before, and with a half-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots: one girt six times pieced, and a woman's Crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel; and not like a Christian footboy, or a 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 is come, howsoe'er 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 saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.

day:

First were we 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. S 4

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 have done
with words;

To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
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
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.

no,

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,

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 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.

[Musick.

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. I'st 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 bebeld 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.

Pot. It cannot be. Kath.

Let me entreat you.

Let me entreat you.

Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;

No, nor to-morrow, nor till I please myself.

The door is open, sir, there lies your way,
You may be jogging, whiles your boots are green;
For me, I'll not be gone, till I please myself:
'Tis like, you'll prove a jolly surly groom,
That take it on you at the first so roundly.

Pet. O Kate, content thee; pr'ythee be not angry.

Kath. I will be angry; What hast thou to do?— Father, be quiet: he shall stay my leisure.

I

Gre. Ay, marry, sir: now it begins to work.

Kath. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner :see, a woman may be made a fool,

If she had not a spirit to resist.

Pet. They shall go forward, Kate, at thy com

mand:

Obey the bride, you that attend on her :
Go to the feast, revel and domineer,

Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,

Be mad and merry, —or go hang yourselves;
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 household-stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring my action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua.

Grumio,

Draw forth thy weapon, we're 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 PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and GRUMIO. 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?

Gru. Fye, fye, 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, hoa! Curtis ! Enter CURTIS.

Curt. Who is 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. O, 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 tamed my old master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.

Curt. Away, you three inch 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, for being slow in thy hot office?

Curt. I pr'ythee, 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 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?

Curt. All ready; And, therefore, I pray thee, news?

Gru. First, know, my horse is tired; my master and mistress fallen out.

But hadst thou not

Gru. Tell thou the tale: crossed me, thou should'st have heard how her horse fell, and she under her horse; thou should'st 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 pray'd 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.

Curt. 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, Sugarsop, and the rest; let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brushed, and their garters of an indifferent knit : let them curtsey 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?

Curt. They are.

Gru. Call them forth.

Curt. Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master, to countenance my mistress.

Gru. Why, she hath a face of her own.

Curt. Who knows not that?

Gru. Thou, it seems; that callest for company to countenance her.

Gru. Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
Pet. 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?

Gru. 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.
Pet. Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
[Exeunt some of the Servants.
Where is the life that late I led-
Where are those Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
Soud, soud, soud, soud!

Re-enter Servants, with supper.

[Sings.

Kath. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.

Pet. A whoreson, beetleheaded, 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 is this? mutton?

1 Serv.

Pet.

1 Serv.

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 too you, trenchers, cups, and all :

[Throws the meat, &c. about the stage. You heedless joltheads, and unmanner'd slaves! What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight. Kath. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet; The meat was well, if you were so contented. Pet. 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 cholerick, Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. Be patient; to-morrow it shall be mended, And, for this night, we'll fast for company: Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. [Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and CURTIS.

Nath. [Advancing.] Peter, didst ever see the like?

Peter. He kills her in her own humour.

Pet. Thus have I politickly 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-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 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 hu

mour:

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.

Tra. Is't possible, friend Licio, that Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.

Hor. Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said, Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. [They stand aside.

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. [They retire.

Hor Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I

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!

Lucentio,

Signior

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, running.

Bion. O master, master, I have watch'd so long
That I'm 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 mercatantè, or a pedant,
I know not what; but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely 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 in your love, and then let me alone.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA. Enter a Pedant.

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're 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 money by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.

Tra. Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this will I 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 countenance 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