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.

Re-enter Hortensio, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale?

Her. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.

Bop. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

Her. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier;
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
Her. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.

I did but tell her, she mistook her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,

Frets, call you these quoth she: I'll fume with them :
And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
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!
Bap. 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,-
[Exc. Bap. Gre. Tra. and Hor.
And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
Say, that she rail; Why, then I'll tell her plain,
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:

Say, Urat she frown; I'll say, she looks as clearTM
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:
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week;
If she deny to wod, 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.

And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the eurst;
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.
Kath. Mov'd! in good time: let him that mov'd you
hither,

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

Remove you hence: I knew you at the first,

You were a moveable.
Pet.
Kath. A joint-stool.

Why, what's a moveable?

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. Pet. O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard.

Pet. Come, come, you wasp: i'faith, you are too

angry.

Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

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 sting? In his tail.

Kath. In his tongue. Pet.

Whose tongue?

Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewell. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,

Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
Kath.

That I'll try.

sour.

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:

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.

[Exit.

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.

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. Bian. Let's hear;[Hortensio plays.

O fie! the treble jars.

Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.

Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Hac ibat 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. How fiery and forward our pedant is!

Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure,

acides

Was Ajax,-call'd so from his grandfather.

Bian. 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 masters, take it not unkindly, pray, That I have been thus pleasant with both. Hor. You may go walk, [To Lucentio.] and give me leave awhile;

you

ACT III.

[Exit.

My lessons make no music 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.

[Aside

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,

SCENE I-A Room in Baptista's House. Lucentio, Hortensio, and Bianca. Lucentio.

FIDDLER, forbear; you grow too forward, sir: Have you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal? Her. 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.

Her. 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 me down :Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd,

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,
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. [reads.] Gamut I am, the ground of all accord,
A re, to plead Hortensio's passion ;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,

C faut, that loves with all affection:
D sol re, one cliff, two notes have 1;
E la mi, 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 odd inventions.

Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks, he looks as though he were in love:Yet, if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale, Seize thee, that list: If once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit. SCENE 11.-The same. Before Baptista's House. Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Katharina, Bianca, Lucentio, and Attendants.

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

'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 fore'd
To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain'd rudesby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic 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 sces 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-eases, one buckied, 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

monster in apparel; and not like a Christian foot boy, 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.

Enter Petruchio and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home?
Bap. You are welcome, sir.
Pet.

Bap. And yet you halt not.
Tra.

As I wish you were.

And yet I come not well.

Not so well apparell'd

frown:

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
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.

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.
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 Pet. Gru, and gion. 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. [Ex. Tra. But, sir, to her love concerneth us to add Fer 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 bridegroora 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 aboard, 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, Horten-
sio, Grumio, and Train.

[Music.

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 baste 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.

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.
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,
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.

[Exe. Pet. Kath. 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?
Bian. That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
Gre. I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
Bap. Neighbours and friends, though 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.