THE TAMING OF THE SHREW The Taming of the Shrew was first published in the 1623 Folio, but a related play, shorter and simpler, with the title The Taming of a Shrew, had appeared in print in 1594. The exact relationship of these plays is disputed. A Shrew has sometimes been regarded as the source for The Shrew; some scholars have believed that both plays derive independently from an earlier play, now lost; it has even been suggested that Shakespeare wrote both plays. In our view Shakespeare’s play was written first, not necessarily on the foundation of an earlier play, and A Shrew is an anonymous imitation, written in the hope of capitalizing on the success of Shakespeare’s play. The difference between the titles is probably no more significant than the fact that The Winter’s Tale is even now often loosely referred to as A Winter’s Tale, or The Comedy of Errors as A Comedy of Errors. The plot of The Taming of the Shrew has three main strands. First comes the Induction showing how a drunken tinker, Christopher Sly, is made to believe himself a lord for whose entertainment a play is to be presented. This resembles an episode in The Arabian Nights, in which Caliph Haroun al Raschid plays a similar trick on Abu Hassan. A Latin version of this story was known in Shakespeare’s England; it may also have circulated by word of mouth. Second comes the principal plot of the play performed for Sly, in which the shrewish Katherine is wooed, won, and tamed by the fortune-hunting Petruccio. This is a popular narrative theme; Shakespeare may have known a ballad called ‘A merry jest of a shrewd and curst wife lapped in morel’s skin for her good behaviour’, printed around 1550. The third strand of the play involves Lucentio, Gremio, and Hortensio, all of them suitors for the hand of Katherine’s sister, Bianca. This is based on the first English prose comedy, George Gascoigne’s Supposes, translated from Ludovico Ariosto’s I Suppositi (1509), acted in 1566, and published in 1573. In The Taming of the Shrew as printed in the 1623 Folio Christopher Sly fades out after Act 1, Scene 1, in A Shrew he makes other appearances, and rounds off the play. These episodes may derive from a version of Shakespeare’s play different from that preserved in the Folio; we print them as Additional Passages. The adapting of Shakespeare’s play that seems to have occurred early in its career foreshadows its later history on the stage. Seven versions appeared during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, culminating in David Garrick’s Catharine and Petruchio, first performed in 1754. This version, omitting Christopher Sly and concentrating on the taming story, held the stage almost unchallenged until late in the nineteenth century. In various incarnations The Taming of the Shrew has always been popular on the stage, but its reputation as a robust comedy verging on farce has often obscured its more subtle and imaginative aspects, brutalizing Petruccio and trivializing Kate. The Induction, finely written, establishes a fundamentally serious concern with the powers of persuasion to change not merely appearance but reality, and this theme is acted out at different levels in both strands of the subsequent action. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

In the Induction CHRISTOPHER SLY, beggar and tinker A HOSTESS A LORD BARTHOLOMEW, his page HUNTSMEN SERVANTS PLAYERS In the play-within-the-play BAPTISTA Minola, a gentleman of Padua KATHERINE, his elder daughter BIANCA, his younger daughter PETRUCCIO, a gentleman of Verona, suitor of Katherine GREMIO, a rich old man of Padua, suitor of Bianca HORTENSIO, another suitor, who disguises himself as Licio, a teacher LUCENTIO, from Pisa, who disguises himself as Cambio, a teacher VINCENTIO, Lucentio’s father A PEDANT (schoolmaster), from Mantua A WIDOW A TAILOR A HABERDASHER An OFFICER SERVINGMEN, including NATHANIEL, PHILIP, JOSEPH, and PETER Other servants of Baptista and Petruccio

The Taming of the Shrew Induction 1 Enter Christopher Sly the beggar, and the Hostess SLY I’ll feeze you, in faith. HOSTESS A pair of stocks, you rogue. SLY You’re a baggage. The Slys are no rogues. Look in the Chronicles—we came in with Richard Conqueror, therefore paucas palabras, let the world slide. Sessa! HOSTESS You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? SLY No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy! Go to thy cold bed and warm thee. HOSTESS I know my remedy, I must go fetch the headborough. Exit SLY Third or fourth or fifth borough, I’ll answer him by law. I’ll not budge an inch, boy. Let him come, and kindly. He falls asleep. Horns sound. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train LORD Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds. Breathe Merriman—the poor cur is embossed— And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed brach. Saw’st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. FIRST HUNTSMAN Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord. He cried upon it at the merest loss, And twice today picked out the dullest scent. Trust me, I take him for the better dog. LORD Thou art a fool. If Echo were as fleet I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well, and look unto them all. Tomorrow I intend to hunt again. FIRST HUNTSMAN I will, my lord. LORD (seeing Sly) What’s here? One dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? SECOND HUNTSMAN He breathes, my lord. Were he not warmed with ale This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. LORD O monstrous beast! How like a swine he lies. Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image. Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you: if he were conveyed to bed, Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him when he wakes— Would not the beggar then forget himself? FIRST HUNTSMAN Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. SECOND HUNTSMAN It would seem strange unto him when he waked. LORD Even as a flatt‘ring dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest. Carry him gently to my fairest chamber, And hang it round with all my wanton pictures. Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters, And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet. Procure me music ready when he wakes To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound, And if he chance to speak be ready straight, And with a low submissive reverence Say ‘What is it your honour will command? Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose-water and bestrewed with flowers; Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, And say ‘Will’t please your lordship cool your hands?’ Someone be ready with a costly suit, And ask him what apparel he will wear. Another tell him of his hounds and horse, And that his lady mourns at his disease. Persuade him that he hath been lunatic, And when he says he is, say that he dreams, For he is nothing but a mighty lord. This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs. It will be pastime passing excellent, If it be husbanded with modesty. FIRST HUNTSMAN My lord, I warrant you we will play our part As he shall think by our true diligence He is no less than what we say he is. LORD Take him up gently, and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes. Servingmen carry Sly out Trumpets sound Sirrah, go see what trumpet ’tis that sounds. Exit a Servingman Belike some noble gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. Enter a Servingman How now? Who is it? SERVINGMAN An’t please your honour, players That offer service to your lordship. Enter Players LORD Bid them come near. Now fellows, you are welcome. PLAYERS We thank your honour. LORD Do you intend to stay with me tonight? A PLAYER So please your lordship to accept our duty. LORD With all my heart. This fellow I remember Since once he played a farmer’s eldest son. ’Twas where you wooed the gentlewoman so well. I have forgot your name, but sure that part Was aptly fitted and naturally performed. ANOTHER PLAYER I think ’twas Soto that your honour means. LORD ‘Tis very true. Thou didst it excellent. Well, you are come to me in happy time, The rather for I have some sport in hand Wherein your cunning can assist me much. There is a lord will hear you play tonight; But I am doubtful of your modesties Lest, over-eyeing of his odd behaviour— For yet his honour never heard a play— You break into some merry passion, And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile he grows impatient. A PLAYER Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves Were he the veriest antic in the world. LORD (to a Servingman) Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery And give them friendly welcome every one. Let them want nothing that my house affords. Exit one with the Players (To a Servingman) Sirrah, go you to Barthol‘mew, my page, And see him dressed in all suits like a lady. That done, conduct him to the drunkard’s chamber And call him ‘madam’, do him obeisance. Tell him from me, as he will win my love, He bear himself with honourable action Such as he hath observed in noble ladies Unto their lords by them accomplished. Such duty to the drunkard let him do With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy, And say ‘What is’t your honour will command Wherein your lady and your humble wife May show her duty and make known her love?’ And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed To see her noble lord restored to health, Who for this seven years hath esteemed him No better than a poor and loathsome beggar. And if the boy have not a woman’s gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift, Which, in a napkin being close conveyed, Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. See this dispatched with all the haste thou canst. Anon I’ll give thee more instructions. Exit a Servingman I know the boy will well usurp the grace, Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman. I long to hear him call the drunkard husband, And how my men will stay themselves from laughter When they do homage to this simple peasant. I’ll in to counsel them. Haply my presence May well abate the over-merry spleen Which otherwise would grow into extremes. Exeunt

Induction 2 Enter aloft Sly, the drunkard, with attendants, some with apparel, basin, and ewer, and other appurtenances; and Lord SLY For God’s sake, a pot of small ale! FIRST SERVINGMAN Will’t please your lordship drink a cup of sack? SECOND SERVINGMAN Will’t please your honour taste of these conserves? THIRD SERVINGMAN What raiment will your honour wear today? SLY I am Christophero Sly. Call not me ‘honour’ nor ‘lordship’. I ne’er drank sack in my life, and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef. Ne’er ask me what raiment I’ll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet—nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather. LORD Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour. O that a mighty man of such descent, Of such possessions and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit. SLY What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly—old Sly’s son of Burton Heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bearherd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat alewife of Wincot, if she know me not. If she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying‘st knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught; here’s— THIRD SERVINGMAN O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. SECOND SERVINGMAN O, this is it that makes your servants droop. LORD Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth. Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment, And banish hence these abject lowly dreams. Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office, ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? Music Hark, Apollo plays, And twenty caged nightingales do sing. Or wilt thou sleep? We’ll have thee to a couch Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed On purpose trimmed up for Semiramis. Say thou wilt walk, we will bestrew the ground. Or wilt thou ride, thy horses shall be trapped, Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt, Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. FIRST SERVINGMAN Say thou wilt course, thy greyhounds are as swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. SECOND SERVINGMAN Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook, And Cytherea all in sedges hid, Which seem to move and wanton with her breath Even as the waving sedges play wi’th’ wind. LORD We’ll show thee Io as she was a maid, And how she was beguiled and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done. THIRD SERVINGMAN Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood, Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds, And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. LORD Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord. Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waning age. FIRST SERVINGMAN And till the tears that she hath shed for thee Like envious floods o’errun her lovely face She was the fairest creature in the world; And yet she is inferior to none. SLY Am I a lord, and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? Or have I dreamed till now? I do not sleep. I see, I hear, I speak. I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things. Upon my life, I am a lord indeed, And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly. Well, bring our lady hither to our sight, And once again a pot o’th’ smallest ale. SECOND SERVINGMAN Will’t please your mightiness to wash your hands? O, how we joy to see your wit restored! O that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream, Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept. SLY These fifteen years—by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? FIRST SERVINGMAN O yes, my lord, but very idle words, For though you lay here in this goodly chamber Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door, And rail upon the hostess of the house, And say you would present her at the leet Because she brought stone jugs and no sealed quarts. Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. SLY Ay, the woman’s maid of the house. THIRD SERVINGMAN Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid, Nor no such men as you have reckoned up, As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greet, And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernel, And twenty more such names and men as these, Which never were, nor no man ever saw. SLY Now Lord be thankèd for my good amends. ALL Amen. SLY I thank thee. Thou shalt not lose by it. Enter Bartholomew the Page, as Lady, with attendants BARTHOLOMEW How fares my noble lord? SLY Marry, I fare well, For here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? BARTHOLOMEW Here, noble lord. What is thy will with her? SLY Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? My men should call me lord. I am your goodman. BARTHOLOMEW My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. SLY I know it well. (To the Lord) What must I call her? LORD Madam. SLY Al’ce Madam or Joan Madam? LORD Madam, and nothing else. So lords call ladies. SLY Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed, And slept above some fifteen year or more. BARTHOLOMEW Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandoned from your bed. SLY Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone. Exeunt [Lord and] attendants Madam, undress you and come now to bed. BARTHOLOMEW Thrice-noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two, Or if not so, until the sun be set, For your physicians have expressly charged, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed. I hope this reason stands for my excuse. SLY Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again. I will therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Messenger MESSENGER Your honour’s players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet, Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy. Therefore they thought it good you hear a play And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life. SLY Marry, I will let them play it. Is not a comonty A Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? BARTHOLOMEW No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff. SLY What, household stuff? BARTHOLOMEW It is a kind of history. SLY Well, we’ll see’t. Come, madam wife, sit by my side And let the world slip. We shall ne’er be younger. Bartholomew sits

Atto 1, Scena 1

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Flourish. Enter Lucentio and his man, Tranio
LUCENTIOTranio, since for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
I am arrived fore fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy,
And by my father’s love and leave am armed
With his good will and thy good company,
My trusty servant, well approved in all,
Here let us breathe, and haply institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being, and my father first—
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
Vincentio’s son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become to serve all hopes conceived
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds.
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue and that part of philosophy
Will I apply that treats of happiness
By virtue specially to be achieved.
Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left
And am to Padua come as he that leaves
A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
TRANIOMi perdonate, gentle master mine.
I am in all affected as yourself,
Glad that you thus continue your resolve
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue and this moral discipline,
Let’s be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
Or so devote to Aristotle’s checks
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured.
Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk.
(didascalia)Music and poesy use to quicken you;
TRANIOThe mathematics and the metaphysics,
Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en.
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
LUCENTIOGramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness
And take a lodging fit to entertain
Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay a while, what company is this?
TRANIOMaster, some show to welcome us to town.
(didascalia)Enter Baptista with his two daughters, Katherine and Bianca; Gremio, a pantaloon; Hortensio, suitor to Bianca. Lucentio and Tranio stand by
BAPTISTAGentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am resolved you know:
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
Before I have a husband for the elder.
If either of you both love Katherina,
Because I know you well and love you well
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
GREMIOTo cart her rather. She’s too rough for me.
There, there, Hortensio. Will you any wife?
KATHERINE(to Baptista)
I pray you, sir, is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
HORTENSIO‘Mates’, maid? How mean you that? No mates for
you
Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.
KATHERINEI’faith, sir, you shall never need to fear.
Iwis it is not half-way to her heart,
But if it were, doubt not her care should be
To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.
HORTENSIOFrom all such devils, good Lord deliver us.
GREMIOAnd me too, good Lord.
TRANIO(aside to Lucentio)
Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward.
That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
LUCENTIO(aside to Tranio)
But in the other’s silence do I see
Maid’s mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.
TRANIO(aside to Lucentio)
Well said, master. Mum, and gaze your fill.
BAPTISTAGentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said—Bianca, get you in.
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne’er the less, my girl.
KATHERINEA pretty peat! It is best
Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
BIANCASister, content you in my discontent.
(To Baptista) Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe.
My books and instruments shall be my company,
On them to look and practise by myself.
LUCENTIO(aside to Tranio)
Hark, Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak.
HORTENSIOSignor Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I that our good will effects
Bianca’s grief.
GREMIOWhy will you mew her up,
Signor Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
BAPTISTGentlemen, content ye. I am resolved.
Go in, Bianca.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca
BAPTISTAnd for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,
Or, Signor Gremio, you know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing up.
And so farewell. Katherina, you may stay,
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
(didascalia)Exit
KATHERINEWhy, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours, as though belike I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!
(didascalia)Exit
GREMIOYou may go to the devil’s dam. Your gifts are so good here’s none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together and fast it fairly out. Our cake’s dough on both sides. Farewell. Yet for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.
HORTENSIOSo will I, Signor Gremio. But a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both—that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress and be happy rivals in Bianca’s love—to labour and effect one thing specially.
GREMIOWhat’s that, I pray?
HORTENSIOMarry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
GREMIOA husband?—a devil!
HORTENSIOI say a husband.
GREMIOI say a devil. Think’st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?
HORTENSIOTush, Gremio. Though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough.
GREMIOI cannot tell, but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition: to be whipped at the high cross every morning.
HORTENSIOFaith, as you say, there’s small choice in rotten apples. But come, since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained till by helping Baptista’s eldest daughter to a husband we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to’t afresh. Sweet Bianca Happy man be his dole. He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, Signor Gremio?
GREMIOI am agreed, and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on.
(didascalia)Exeunt Hortensio and Gremio. Tranio and Lucentio remain
TRANIOI pray, sir, tell me : is it possible
That love should of a sudden take such hold?
LUCENTIOO Tranio, till I found it to be true
I never thought it possible or likely.
But see, while idly I stood looking on
I found the effect of love in idleness,
And now in plainness do confess to thee,
That art to me as secret and as dear
As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl.
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst.
Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.
TRANIOMaster, it is no time to chide you now.
Affection is not rated from the heart.
If love have touched you, naught remains but so—
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.
LUCENTIOGramercies, lad. Go forward, this contents.
The rest will comfort, for thy counsel’s sound.
TRANIOMaster, you looked so longly on the maid
Perhaps you marked not what’s the pith of all.
LUCENTIOO yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand
When with his knees he kissed the Cretan strand.
TRANIOSaw you no more? Marked you not how her sister
Began to scold and raise up such a storm
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din ?
LUCENTIOTranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air.
Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.
TRANIO(aside)
Nay, then ’tis time to stir him from his trance.
(To Lucentio) I pray, awake, sir. If you love the maid,
Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it
stands:
Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
That till the father rid his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home,
And therefore has he closely mewed her up
Because she will not be annoyed with suitors.
LUCENTIOAh, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he!
But art thou not advised he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
TRANIOAy, marry am I, sir, and now ’tis plotted.
LUCENTIOI have it, Tranio.
TRANIOMaster, for my hand,
Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
LUCENTIOTell me thine first.
TRANIOYou will be schoolmaster
And undertake the teaching of the maid.
That’s your device.
LUCENTIOIt is. May it be done?
TRANIONot possible; for who shall bear your part,
And be in Padua here Vincentio’s son,
Keep house, and ply his book, welcome his friends,
Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?
LUCENTIOBasta, content thee, for I have it full.
We have not yet been seen in any house,
Nor can we be distinguished by our faces
For man or master. Then it follows thus:
Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead;
Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should.
I will some other be, some Florentine,
Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
Tis hatched, and shall be so. Tranio, at once
Uncase thee. Take my coloured hat and cloak.
When Biondello comes he waits on thee,
But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
TRANIOSo had you need.
[They
exchange
clothes]
In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
And I am tied to be obedient—
For so your father charged me at our parting,
‘Be serviceable to my son,’ quoth he,
Although I think ’twas in another sense—
I am content to be Lucentio
Because so well I love Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, be so, because Lucentio loves,
And let me be a slave t’achieve that maid
Whose sudden sight hath thralled my wounded eye.
(didascalia)Enter
LUCENTIOBiondello
Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?
BIONDELLOWhere have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes, or you stolen his, or both? Pray, what’s the news?
LUCENTIOSirrah, come hither. ‘Tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life
Puts my apparel and my count’nance on,
And I for my escape have put on his,
For in a quarrel since I came ashore
I killed a man, and fear I was descried.
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life.
You understand me?
BIONDELLOI sir? Ne’er a whit.
LUCENTIOAnd not a jot of Tranio in your mouth.
Tranio is changed into Lucentio.
BIONDELLOThe better for him. Would I were so too.
TRANIOSo could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after—
That Lucentio indeed had Baptista’s youngest
daughter.
But sirrah, not for my sake but your master’s I advise
You use your manners discreetly in all kind of
companies.
When I am alone, why then I am Tranio,
But in all places else your master, Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, let’s go.
One thing more rests that thyself execute—
To make one among these wooers. If thou ask me
why,
Sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.
(didascalia)Exeunt
LUCENTIOThe presenters above speak
FIRST SERVINGMANMy lord, you nod. You do not mind the play.
SLYYes, by Saint Anne do I. A good matter, surely. Comes there any more of it?
BARTHOLOMEWMy lord, ’tis but begun.
SLY‘Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. Would ’twere done.
They sit and mark

Atto 1, Scena 2

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and his man, Grumio
PETRUCCIOVerona, for a while I take my leave
To see my friends in Padua; but of all
My best-beloved and approved friend
Hortensio, and I trow this is his house.
Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.
GRUMIOKnock, sir? Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused your worship?
PETRUCCIOVillain, I say, knock me here soundly.
GRUMIOKnock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir?
PETRUCCIOVillain, I say, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well or I’ll knock your knave’s pate.
GRUMIOMy master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you
first,
And then I know after who comes by the worst.
PETRUCCIOWill it not be?
Faith, sirrah, an you’ll not knock, I’ll ring it.
I’ll try how you can sol-fa and sing it.
He wrings him by the ears. [Grumio kneels]
GRUMIOHelp, masters, help! My master is mad.
PETRUCCIONow knock when I bid you, sirrah villain.
(didascalia)Enter
PETRUCCIOHortensio
HORTENSIOHow now, what’s the matter? My old friend Grumio and my good friend Petruccio ? How do you all at Verona?
PETRUCCIOSignor Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.
HORTENSIOAlla nostra casa ben venuto, molto onorato signor mio Petruccio. Rise, Grumio, rise. We will compound this quarrel.
Grumio rises
GRUMIONay, ‘tis no matter, sir, what he ’leges in Latin. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service-look you, sir: he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so, being perhaps, for aught I see, two-and-thirty, a pip out? Whom would to God I had well knocked at first, Then had not Grumio come by the worst.
PETRUCCIOA senseless villain. Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.
GRUMIOKnock at the gate? O heavens, spake you not these words plain? ‘Sirrah, knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly’ ? And come you now with knocking at the gate?
PETRUCCIOSirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, patience. I am Grumio’s pledge.
Why this’ a heavy chance ’twixt him and you,
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here from old Verona ?
PETRUCCIOSuch wind as scatters young men through the world
To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience grows. But in a few,
Signor Hortensio, thus it stands with me :
Antonio, my father, is deceased,
And I have thrust myself into this maze
Happily to wive and thrive as best I may.
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, shall I then come roundly to thee
And wish thee to a shrewd, ill-favoured wife?
Thou‘dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet I’ll promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich. But thou’rt too much my friend,
And I’ll not wish thee to her.
PETRUCCIOSignor Hortensio, ’twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruccio’s wife—
As wealth is burden of my wooing dance
Be she as foul as was Florentius’ love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates’ Xanthippe or a worse,
She moves me not—or not removes at least
Affection’s edge in me, were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
GRUMIO(to Hortensio) Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is. Why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an aglet-baby, or an old trot with ne’er a tooth in her head, though she have as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses. Why, nothing comes amiss so money comes withal.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, since we are stepped thus far in,
I will continue that I broached in jest.
I can, Petruccio, help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beauteous,
Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman.
Her only fault—and that is faults enough—
Is that she is intolerable curst,
And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure
That, were my state far worser than it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
PETRUCCIOHortensio, peace. Thou know‘st not gold’s effect.
Tell me her father’s name and ’tis enough,
For I will board her though she chide as loud
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
HORTENSIOHer father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman.
Her name is Katherina Minola,
Renowned in Padua for her scolding tongue.
PETRUCCIOI know her father, though I know not her,
And he knew my deceased father well.
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.
GRUMIOI pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O’ my word, an she knew him as well as I do she would think scolding would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a score knaves or so. Why, that’s nothing; an he begin once he’ll rail in his rope-tricks. I’ll tell you what, sir, an she stand him but a little he will throw a figure in her face and so disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.
HORTENSIOTarry, Petruccio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista’s keep my treasure is.
He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,
And her withholds from me and other more,
Suitors to her and rivals in my love,
Supposing it a thing impossible,
For those defects I have before rehearsed,
That ever Katherina will be wooed.
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta’en:
That none shall have access unto Bianca
Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.
GRUMIOKatherine the curst—
A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
HORTENSIONow shall my friend Petruccio do me grace,
And offer me disguised in sober robes
To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca,
That so I may by this device at least
Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
And unsuspected court her by herself.
(didascalia)Enter Gremio with a paper, and Lucentio disguised as a schoolmaster
GRUMIOHere’s no knavery. See, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Master, master, look about you. Who goes there, ha?
HORTENSIOPeace, Grumio, it is the rival of my love.
Petruccio, stand by a while.
GRUMIOA proper stripling, and an amorous!
Petruccio, Hortensio, and Grumio stand aside
GREMIO(to Lucentio)
O, very well—I have perused the note.
Hark you, sir, I’ll have them very fairly bound—
All books of love, see that at any hand—
And see you read no other lectures to her.
You understand me. Over and beside
Signor Baptista’s liberality,
I’ll mend it with a largess. Take your paper, too,
And let me have them very well perfumed,
For she is sweeter than perfume itself
To whom they go to. What will you read to her?
LUCENTIOWhate’er I read to her, I’ll plead for you
As for my patron, stand you so assured,
As firmly as yourself were still in place—
Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
GREMIOO this learning, what a thing it is!
GRUMIO(aside)
O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
PETRUCCIOPeace, sirrah.
HORTENSIOGrumio, mum. (Coming forward) God save you, Signor Gremio.
GREMIOAnd you are well met, Signor Hortensio.
Trow you whither I am going?
To Baptista Minola.
I promised to enquire carefully
About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca,
And by good fortune I have lighted well
On this young man, for learning and behaviour
Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
And other books—good ones, I warrant ye.
HORTENSIO‘Tis well, and I have met a gentleman
Hath promised me to help me to another,
A fine musician, to instruct our mistress.
So shall I no whit be behind in duty
To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.
GREMIOBeloved of me, and that my deeds shall prove.
GRUMIO(aside) And that his bags shall prove.
HORTENSIOGremio, ’tis now no time to vent our love.
Listen to me, and if you speak me fair
I’ll tell you news indifferent good for either.
Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
Upon agreement from us to his liking
Will undertake to woo curst Katherine,
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
GREMIOSo said, so done, is well.
Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
PETRUCCIOI know she is an irksome brawling scold.
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
GREMIONo, sayst me so, friend? What countryman?
PETRUCCIOBorn in Verona, old Antonio’s son.
My father dead, his fortune lives for me,
And I do hope good days and long to see.
GREMIOO sir, such a life with such a wife were strange.
But if you have a stomach, to’t, a’ God’s name.
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wildcat?
PETRUCCIOWill I live!
GRUMIOWill he woo her? Ay, or I’ll hang her.
PETRUCCIOWhy came I hither but to that intent?
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven’s artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud ’larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets’ clang?
And do you tell me of a woman’s tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer’s fire ?
Tush, tush—fear boys with bugs.
GRUMIOFor he fears none.
GREMIOHortensio, hark.
This gentleman is happily arrived,
My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.
HORTENSIOI promised we would be contributors,
And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe’er.
GREMIOAnd so we will, provided that he win her.
GRUMIOI would I were as sure of a good dinner.
(didascalia)Enter Tranio, brave, as Lucentio, and Biondello
TRANIOGentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold, tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way to the house of Signor Baptista Minola?
BIONDELLOHe that has the two fair daughters—is’t he you mean?
TRANIOEven he, Biondello.
GREMIOHark you, sir, you mean not her to—
TRANIOPerhaps him and her, sir. What have you to do?
PETRUCCIONot her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
TRANIOI love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let’s away.
LUCENTIO(aside)
Well begun, Tranio.
HORTENSIOSir, a word ere you go.
Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of—yea or no?
TRANIOAnd if I be, sir, is it any offence?
GREMIONo, if without more words you will get you hence.
TRANIOWhy, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
For me as for you?
GREMIOBut so is not she.
TRANIOFor what reason, I beseech you?
GREMIOFor this reason, if you’ll know—
That she’s the choice love of Signor Gremio.
HORTENSIOThat she’s the chosen of Signor Hortensio.
TRANIOSoftly, my masters. If you be gentlemen,
Do me this right, hear me with patience.
Baptista is a noble gentleman
To whom my father is not all unknown,
And were his daughter fairer than she is
She may more suitors have, and me for one.
Fair Leda’s daughter had a thousand wooers;
Then well one more may fair Bianca have,
And so she shall. Lucentio shall make one,
Though Paris came, in hope to speed alone.
GREMIOWhat, this gentleman will out-talk us all!
LUCENTIOSir, give him head, I know he’ll prove a jade.
PETRUCCIOHortensio, to what end are all these words?
HORTENSIOSir, let me be so bold as ask you,
Did you yet ever see Baptista’s daughter?
TRANIONo, sir, but hear I do that he hath two,
The one as famous for a scolding tongue
As is the other for beauteous modesty.
PETRUCCIOSir, sir, the first’s for me. Let her go by.
GREMIOYea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more than Alcides’ twelve.
PETRUCCIOSir, understand you this of me in sooth,
The youngest daughter whom you hearken for
Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
And will not promise her to any man
Until the elder sister first be wed.
The younger then is free, and not before.
TRANIOIf it be so, sir, that you are the man
Must stead us all, and me amongst the rest,
And if you break the ice and do this feat,
Achieve the elder, set the younger free
For our access, whose hap shall be to have her
Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.
HORTENSIOSir, you say well, and well you do conceive;
And since you do profess to be a suitor
You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
To whom we all rest generally beholden.
TRANIOSir, I shall not be slack. In sign whereof,
Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
And quaff carouses to our mistress’ health,
And do as adversaries do in law—
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
GRUMIOand BIONDELLO
O excellent motion! Fellows, let’s be gone.
HORTENSIOThe motion’s good indeed, and be it so.
Petruccio, I shall be your ben venuto.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 1

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Katherina and Bianca, her hands bound
BIANCAGood sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me.
That I disdain, but for these other goods,
Unbind my hands, I’ll pull them off myself,
Yea, all my raiment to my petticoat,
Or what you will command me will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.
KATHERINEOf all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
Whom thou lov’st best. See thou dissemble not.
BIANCABelieve me, sister, of all the men alive
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
KATHERINEMinion, thou liest. Is’t not Hortensio?
BIANCAIf you affect him, sister, here I swear
I’ll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
KATHERINEO then, belike you fancy riches more.
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
BIANCAIs it for him you do envy me so?
Nay, then, you jest, and now I well perceive
You have but jested with me all this while.
I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
KATHERINE(strikes her)
If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
(didascalia)Enter
KATHERINEBaptista
BAPTISTAWhy, how now, dame, whence grows this insolence?
Bianca, stand aside.—Poor girl, she weeps.—
Go ply thy needle, meddle not with her.
(To Katherine) For shame, thou hilding of a devilish
spirit,
Why dost thou wrong her that did ne’er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
KATHERINEHer silence flouts me, and I’ll be revenged.
She flies after Bianca
BAPTISTAWhat, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca
KATHERINEWhat, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband.
I must dance barefoot on her wedding day,
And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
Talk not to me. I will go sit and weep
Till I can find occasion of revenge.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTAWas ever gentleman thus grieved as I?
But who comes here?
(didascalia)Enter Gremio, Lucentio as a schoolmaster in the
BAPTISTAhabit of a mean man, Petruccio with Hortensio as a

musician, Tranio as Lucentio, with Biondello his
boy bearing a lute and books
GREMIOGood morrow, neighbour Baptista.
BAPTISTAGood morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen.
PETRUCCIOAnd you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter
Called Katherina, fair and virtuous?
BAPTISTAI have a daughter, sir, called Katherina.
GREMIOYou are too blunt. Go to it orderly.
PETRUCCIOYou wrong me, Signor Gremio. Give me leave.
(To Baptista) I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
(didascalia)Within your house to make mine eye the witness
PETRUCCIOOf 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.
BAPTISTAYou’re welcome, sir, and he for your good sake.
But for my daughter, Katherine, this I know:
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
PETRUCCIOI see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my company.
BAPTISTAMistake me not, I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
PETRUCCIOPetruccio is my name, Antonio’s son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.
BAPTISTAI know him well. You are welcome for his sake.
GREMIOSaving your tale, Petruccio, I pray
Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
Baccare, you are marvellous forward.
PETRUCCIOO pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain be doing.
GREMIOI doubt it not, sir. But you will curse your wooing. (To Baptista) 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, 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.
BAPTISTAA thousand thanks, Signor Gremio. Welcome, good Cambio. (To Tranio) But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger. May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
TRANIOPardon 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
I 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.
BAPTISTALucentio is your name—of whence, I pray?
TRANIOOf Pisa, sir, son to Vincentio.
BAPTISTAA mighty man of Pisa. By report
I know him well. You are very welcome, sir.
(To Hortensio) Take you the lute, (to Lucentio) and you
the set of books.
You shall go see your pupils presently.
Holla, within!
(didascalia)Enter a Servant
BAPTISTASirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my daughters, and tell them both
These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.
(didascalia)Exit Servant with Lucentio and Hortensio,
BAPTISTA[Biondello following]
(To Petruccio) We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner. You are passing welcome—
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
PETRUCCIOSignor Baptista, my business asketh haste,
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 bettered rather than decreased.
Then tell me, if I get your daughter’s love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
BAPTISTAAfter my death the one half of my lands,
And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
PETRUCCIOAnd 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.
BAPTISTAAy, when the special thing is well obtained—
That is her love, for that is all in all.
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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.
BAPTISTAWell mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed.
But be thou armed for some unhappy words.
PETRUCCIOAy, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
That shakes not though they blow perpetually.
(didascalia)Enter Hortensio with his head broke
BAPTISTAHow now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?
HORTENSIOFor fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
BAPTISTAWhat, will my daughter prove a good musician?
HORTENSIOI think she’ll sooner prove a soldier.
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
BAPTISTAWhy then, thou canst not break her to the lute?
HORTENSIOWhy no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bowed 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 had she studied to misuse me so.
PETRUCCIONow, 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!
BAPTISTA(to Hortensio)
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.
Signor Petruccio, will you go with us,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you ?
PETRUCCIOI pray you, do.
(didascalia)Exeunt all but Petruccio
PETRUCCIOI’ll attend her here,
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 that she frown, I’ll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly washed 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 wed, I’ll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
But here she comes, and now, Petruccio, speak.
(didascalia)Enter Katherina
PETRUCCIOGood morrow, Kate, for that’s your name, I hear.
KATHERINEWell have you heard, but something hard of hearing.
They call me Katherine that do talk of me.
PETRUCCIOYou lie, in faith, for you are called 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 praised in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded—
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs—
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
KATHERINEMoved? In good time. Let him that moved you hither
Re-move you hence. I knew you at the first
You were a movable.
PETRUCCIOWhy, what’s a movable?
KATHERINEA joint-stool.
PETRUCCIOThou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
KATHERINEAsses are made to bear, and so are you.
PETRUCCIOWomen are made to bear, and so are you.
KATHERINENo such jade as you, if me you mean.
PETRUCCIOAlas, good Kate, I will not burden thee,
For knowing thee to be but young and light.
KATHERINEToo light for such a swain as you to catch,
And yet as heavy as my weight should be. 205
PETRUCCIOShould be?—should buzz.
KATHERINEWell ta’en, and like a buzzard.
PETRUCCIOO slow-winged turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
KATHERINEAy, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
PETRUCCIOCome, come, you wasp, i’faith you are too angry.
KATHERINEIf I be waspish, best beware my sting.
PETRUCCIOMy remedy is then to pluck it out.
KATHERINEAy, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PETRUCCIOWho knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
KATHERINEIn his tongue.
PETRUCCIOWhose tongue?
KATHERINEYours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
PETRUCCIOWhat, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
KATHERINEThat I’ll try.
She strikes him
PETRUCCIOI swear I’ll cuff you if you strike again.
KATHERINESo may you lose your arms.
If you strike me you are no gentleman,
And if no gentleman, why then, no arms.
PETRUCCIOA herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
KATHERINEWhat is your crest—a coxcomb?
PETRUCCIOA combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
KATHERINENo cock of mine. You crow too like a craven.
PETRUCCIONay, come, Kate, come. You must not look so sour.
KATHERINEIt is my fashion when I see a crab.
PETRUCCIOWhy, here’s no crab, and therefore look not sour.
KATHERINEThere is, there is.
PETRUCCIOThen show it me. 230
KATHERINEHad I a glass I would.
PETRUCCIOWhat, you mean my face?
KATHERINEWell aimed, of such a young one.
PETRUCCIONow, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
KATHERINEYet you are withered.
PETRUCCIO‘Tis with cares.
KATHERINEI care not.
PETRUCCIONay, hear you, Kate. In sooth, you scape not so. 235
KATHERINEI chafe you if I tarry. Let me go.
PETRUCCIONo, 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 springtime 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 sland’rous world ! Kate like the hazel twig
Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
As hazelnuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.
KATHERINEGo, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.
PETRUCCIODid 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.
KATHERINEWhere did you study all this goodly speech?
PETRUCCIOIt is extempore, from my mother-wit.
KATHERINEA witty mother, witless else her son.
PETRUCCIOAm I not wise?
KATHERINEYes, keep you warm.
PETRUCCIOMarry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, 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,
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio as
PETRUCCIOLucentio
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Here comes your father. Never make denial.
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
BAPTISTANow, Signor Petruccio, how speed you with my daughter? 276
PETRUCCIOHow but well, sir, how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAPTISTAWhy, how now, daughter Katherine—in your dumps?
KATHERINECall you me daughter? Now I promise you 280
You have showed a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half-lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
PETRUCCIOFather, ‘tis thus: yourself and all the world 285
That talked of her have talked 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, 290
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
And to conclude, we have ’greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding day.
KATHERINEI’ll see thee hanged on Sunday first.
GREMIOHark, Petruccio, she says she’ll see thee hanged first. 296
TRANIOIs this your speeding ? Nay then, goodnight our part.
PETRUCCIOBe patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself.
If she and I be pleased, what’s that to you?
Tis bargained ‘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 I
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 Katherine shall be fine.
BAPTISTAI know not what to say, but give me your hands.
God send you joy, Petruccio! ’Tis a match.
GREMIOand TRANIO
Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
PETRUCCIOFather, 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Petruccio and Katherine, severally
GREMIOWas ever match clapped up so suddenly?
BAPTISTAFaith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
TRANIO‘Twas a commodity lay fretting by you.
’Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
BAPTISTAThe gain I seek is quiet in the match.
GREMIONo 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.
TRANIOAnd I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
GREMIOYoungling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
TRANIOGreybeard, thy love doth freeze.
GREMIOBut thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back. ’Tis age that nourisheth.
TRANIOBut youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
BAPTISTAA
Content you, gentlemen. I will compound this strife.
’Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
That can assure my daughter greatest dower
Shall have my Bianca’s love.
Say, Signor Gremio, what can you assure her?
GREMIOFirst, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry.
In ivory coffers I have stuffed my crowns,
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions bossed with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needlework, 350
Pewter, and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion. 355
Myself am struck in years, I must confess,
And if I die tomorrow this is hers,
If whilst I live she will be only mine.
TRANIOThat ‘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,
(didascalia)Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
TRANIOOld Signor Gremio has in Padua,
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinched you, Signor Gremio?
GREMIOTwo 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 choked you with an argosy?
TRANIOGremio, ‘tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much whate’er thou off’rest next.
GREMIONay, I have offered 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.
TRANIOWhy then, the maid is mine from all the world.
By your firm promise Gremio is out-vied.
BAPTISTAI 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?
TRANIOThat’s but a cavil. He is old, I young.
GREMIOAnd may not young men die as well as old ?
BAPTISTAWell, gentlemen,
I am thus resolved. On Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katherine is to be married.
(To Tranio) Now, on the Sunday following shall
Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to Signor Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIOAdieu, good neighbour.
(didascalia)Exit Baptista
GREMIONow 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 ! I
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
(didascalia)Exit
TRANIOA vengeance on your crafty withered 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 supposed Lucentio
Must get a father called supposed 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Atto 3, Scena 1

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Lucentio with books, as Cambio, Hortensio with a lute, as Licio, and Bianca
LUCENTIOFiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcomed you withal?
HORTENSIOBut, wrangling pedant, this Bianca 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.
LUCENTIOPreposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordained!
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.
HORTENSIOSirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCAWhy, 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.
(To Hortensio) Take you your instrument, play you the
whiles.
His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
HORTENSIOYou’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIOThat will be never. Tune your instrument.
Hortensio tunes his lute. Lucentio opens a book
BIANCAWhere left we last?
LUCENTIOHere, madam.
(Reads) ‘Hie ibat Simois, hie est Sigeia tellus, Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.’
BIANCAConstrue them.
LUCENTIO‘Hie 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.
HORTENSIOMadam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCALet’s hear. (Hortensio plays) O fie, the treble jars.
LUCENTIOSpit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Hortensio tunes his lute again
BIANCANow let me see if I can construe it. ‘Hic 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.
HORTENSIOMadam, ’tis now in tune.
LUCENTIOAll but the bass.
HORTENSIOThe bass is right, ’tis the base knave that jars.
(Aside) How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
Pedascule, I’ll watch you better yet.
BIANCA(to Lucentio)
In time I may believe; yet, I mistrust.
LUCENTIOMistrust it not, for sure Aeacides
Was Ajax, called so from his grandfather.
BIANCAI 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 master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO(to Lucentio)
You may go walk and give me leave awhile.
My lessons make no music in three parts.
LUCENTIOAre you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait.
(Aside) And watch withal, for but I be deceived
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIOMadam, before you touch the instrument
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.
He gives a paper
BIANCAWhy, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIOYet read the gamut of Hortensio.
BIANCA(reads)
‘Gam-ut I am, the ground of all accord, A—re—to plead Hortensio’s passion.
B—mi—Bianca, take him for thy lord, C—fa, ut—that loves with all affection.
D—so), re—one clef, two notes have I,
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.
(didascalia)Enter a Messenger
MESSENGERMistress, your father prays you leave your books
And help to dress your sister’s chamber up.
You know tomorrow is the wedding day.
BIANCAFarewell, sweet masters both. I must be gone.
LUCENTIOFaith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
(didascalia)Exeunt Bianca, Messenger, and Lucentio
HORTENSIOBut 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio as Lucentio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants
BAPTISTA(to Tranio)
Signor Lucentio, this is the ‘pointed day
That Katherine and Petruccio 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?
KATHERINENo shame but mine. I must forsooth be forced
To give my hand opposed against my heart
Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen, 10
Who wooed 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 them, and proclaim the banns,
Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed.
Now must the world point at poor Katherine
And say ‘Lo, there is mad Petruccio’s wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.’
TRANIOPatience, good Katherine, and Baptista, too.
Upon my life, Petruccio 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.
KATHERINEWould Katherine had never seen him, though.
(didascalia)Exit weeping
BAPTISTAGo, girl. I cannot blame thee now to weep.
For such an injury would vex a very saint,
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLOMaster, master, news—old news, and such news as you never heard of. 31
BAPTISTAIs it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLOWhy, is it not news to hear of Petruccio’s coming?
BAPTISTAIs he come? 35
BIONDELLOWhy, no, sir.
BAPTISTAWhat then?
BIONDELLOHe is coming.
BAPTISTAWhen will he be here?
BIONDELLOWhen he stands where I am and sees you there. 41
TRANIOBut say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLOWhy, Petruccio 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 armoury with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points, his horse hipped, with an old mothy saddle and 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, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, weighed in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legged before and with a half-cheeked bit and a headstall of sheep’s leather which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst and now repaired with knots, one girth six times pieced, and a woman’s crupper of velour which hath two letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.
BAPTISTAWho comes with him?
BIONDELLOO 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.
TRANIO’Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparelled.
BAPTISTAI am glad he’s come, howsoe’er he comes.
BIONDELLOWhy, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTADidst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLOWho? That Petruccio came? 75
BAPTISTAAy, that Petruccio came.
BIONDELLONo, sir. I say his horse comes with him on his back.
BAPTISTAWhy, that’s all one.
BIONDELLONay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man
Is more than one,
And yet not many.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Grumio, fantastically dressed
PETRUCCIOCome, where be these gallants? Who’s at home?
BAPTISTAYou are welcome, sir.
PETRUCCIOAnd yet I come not well.
BAPTISTAAnd yet you halt not.
TRANIONot so well apparelled as I wish you were.
PETRUCCIOWere it not 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?
BAPTISTAWhy, 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 eyesore to our solemn festival.
TRANIOAnd tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detained you from your wife
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCCIOTedious 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.
TRANIOSee not your bride in these unreverent robes.
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCCIONot I, believe me. Thus I’ll visit her.
BAPTISTABut thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCCIOGood sooth, even thus. Therefore ha’ 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!
(didascalia)Exit With Grumiol
TRANIOHe hath some meaning in his mad attire.
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
[Exit with Gremio]
BAPTISTAI’ll after him, and see the event of this.
[Exeunt]

Atto 3, Scena 3

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)[Enter Lucentio as Cambio, and Tranio as Lucentio]
TRANIOBut, sir, to 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.
LUCENTIOWere it not that my fellow schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca’s steps so narrowly,
‘Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage,
Which once performed, let all the world say no,
I’ll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
TRANIOThat by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business.
We’ll overreach the greybeard Gremio,
The narrow-prying father Minola,
The quaint musician, amorous Licio,
All for my master’s sake, Lucentio.
(didascalia)Enter Gremio
TRANIOSignor Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIOAs willingly as e’er I came from school.
TRANIOAnd is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIOA bridegroom, say you? ’Tis a groom indeed—
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIOCurster than she? Why, ’tis impossible.
GREMIOWhy, he’s a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIOWhy, she’s a devil, a devil, the devil’s dam.
GREMIOTut, she’s a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I’ll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
‘Ay, by Gog’s woun’s,’ quoth he, and swore so loud
That all amazed the priest let fall the book,
And as he stooped again to take it up
This mad-brained 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.’
TRANIOWhat said the vicar when he rose again?
GREMIOTrembled and shook, forwhy he stamped 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; quaffed off the muscatel
And threw the sops all in the sexton’s face,
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seemed to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck
And kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the church did echo,
And I seeing this came thence for very shame,
And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
Such a mad marriage never was before.
(didascalia)Music plays
GREMIOHark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio as
GREMIOLicio, Baptista, Grumio, and others, attendants
PETRUCCIOGentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me today,
And have prepared great store of wedding cheer.
But so it is my haste doth call me hence,
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
BAPTISTAIs’t possible you will away tonight?
PETRUCCIOI must away today, 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.
TRANIOLet us entreat you stay till after dinner.
PETRUCCIOIt may not be.
GREMIOLet me entreat you.
PETRUCCIOIt cannot be.
KATHERINELet me entreat you.
PETRUCCIOI am content.
KATHERINEAre you content to stay?
PETRUCCIOI am content you shall entreat me stay,
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
KATHERINENow, if you love me, stay.
PETRUCCIOGrumio, my horse.
GRUMIOAy, sir, they be ready. The oats have eaten the horses.
KATHERINENay, then, do what thou canst, I will not go today,
No, nor tomorrow—not 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.
PETRUCCIOO Kate, content thee. Prithee, be not angry.
KATHERINEI will be angry. What hast thou to do?
Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure.
GREMIOAy, marry, sir. Now it begins to work.
KATHERINEGentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
I see a woman may be made a fool
If she had not a spirit to resist.
PETRUCCIOThey 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 anything,
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare.
I’ll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon, we are 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Petruccio, Katherine, and Grumio
BAPTISTANay, let them go-a couple of quiet ones!
GREMIOWent they not quickly I should die with laughing.
TRANIOOf all mad matches never was the like.
LUCENTIOMistress, what’s your opinion of your sister?
BIANCAThat being mad herself she’s madly mated.
GREMIOI warrant him, Petruccio is Kated.
BAPTISTANeighbours 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.
TRANIOShall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
BAPTISTAShe shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let’s go.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Grumio
GRUMIOFie, 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! Hoa, Curtis!
(didascalia)Enter Curtis
CURTISWho is that calls so coldly?
GRUMlO 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!
CURTISIs my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
GRUMlO O ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire! Cast on no water.
CURTISIs she so hot a shrew as she’s reported?
GRUMlO 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.
CURTISAway, you three-inch fool. I am no beast.
GRUMIOAm 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.
CURTISI prithee, good Grumio, tell me—how goes the world?
GRUMIOA 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.
CURTISThere’s fire ready, and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
GRUMIOWhy, ‘Jack boy, ho boy!’, and as much news as wilt thou.
CURTISCome, you are so full of cony-catching.
GRUMIOWhy, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, the white stockings, and every officer his wedding garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, the carpets laid, and everything in order?
CURTISAll ready, and therefore, I pray thee, news.
GRUMIOFirst, know my horse is tired, my master and mistress fallen out.
CURTISHow?
GRUMIOOut of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby hangs a tale.
CURTISLet’s ha’t, good Grumio.
GRUMIOLend thine ear.
CURTISHere.
GRUMTO(cuffing him) There.
CURTISThis ’tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
GRUMlO And therefore ’tis called a sensible tale, and this cuff was but to knock at your ear and beseech listening. Now I begin. Inprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress.
CURTISBoth of one horse?
GRUMIOWhat’s that to thee?
CURTISWhy, a horse.
GRUMlO 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.
CURTISBy this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
GRUMIOAy, 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?
CURTISThey are.
GRUMIOCall them forth.
CURTIS(calling) Do you hear, ho? You must meet my master to countenance my mistress.
GRUMIOWhy, she hath a face of her own.
CURTISWho knows not that?
GRUMIOThou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
CURTISI call them forth to credit her.
(didascalia)Enter four or five servingmen
GRUMIOWhy, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
NATHANIELWelcome home, Grumio!
PHILIPHow now, Grumio?
JOSEPHWhat, Grumio?
NICHOLASFellow Grumio!
NATHANIELHow now, old lad!
GRUMIOWelcome you, how now you, what you, fellow you, and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready and all things neat?
NATHANIELAll things is ready. How near is our master?
GRUMIOE’en at hand, alighted by this, and therefore be not—Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Katherine
PETRUCCIOWhere be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
ALL SERVANTSHere, here sir, here sir.
PETRUCCIOHere sir, here sir, here sir, here sir!
You logger-headed and unpolished grooms,
What! No attendance! No regard! No duty!
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
GRUMIOHere, sir, as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCCIOYou peasant swain, you whoreson, malthorse drudge,
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRUMIONathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel’s pumps were all unpinked i‘th’ 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.
PETRUCCIOGo, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
(didascalia)Exeunt servants
PETRUCCIO(Sings)
‘Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those—’
Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud.
(didascalia)Enter servants with supper
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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 gray,
As he forth walked on his way.’
Out, you rogue, you pluck my foot awry.
(Kicking a servant) Take that, and mend the plucking of the other.
Be merry, Kate. (Calling) Some water, here. What, hoa!
(didascalia)Enter one with water
PETRUCCIOWhere’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.
(Calling) Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
[A servant drops water]
You whoreson villain, will you let it fall?
KATHERINEPatience, I pray you, ‘twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCCIOA whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-eared knave. Come, Kate, sit down, I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I? 145 What’s this—mutton?
FIRST SERVINGMANAy.
PETRUCCIOWho brought it?
PETERI.
PETRUCCIO’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, (throwing food) take it to you, trenchers, cups,
and all,
You heedless jolt-heads and unmannered slaves.
What, do you grumble? I’ll be with you straight.
He chases the servants away
KATHERINEI pray you, husband, be not so disquiet.
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCCIOI 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 overroasted flesh.
Be patient, tomorrow’t shall be mended,
And for this night we’ll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt
(didascalia)Enter servants severally
NATHANIELPeter, didst ever see the like?
PETERHe kills her in her own humour.
(didascalia)Enter Curtis, a servant
GRUMIOWhere is he?
CURTISIn 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio
PETRUCCIOThus 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 ate no meat today, nor none shall eat.
Last night she slept not, nor tonight 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 reverent 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Atto 4, Scena 2

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and Hortensio as Licio
TRANIOIs’t possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
HORTENSIOSir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. 5
They stand aside.
(didascalia)Enter Bianca, and Lucentio as Cambio
LUCENTIONow, mistress, profit you in what you read?
BIANCAWhat, master, read you? First resolve me that.
LUCENTIOI read that I profess, The Art to Love.
BIANCAAnd may you prove, sir, master of your art.
LUCENTIOWhile you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart. They stand aside
HORTENSIOQuick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray,
You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca
Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
TRANIOO despiteful love, unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
HORTENSIOMistake 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 called Hortensio.
TRANIOSignor 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.
HORTENSIOSee how they kiss and court. Signor Lucentio,
Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
Never to woo her more, but do forswear her
As one unworthy all the former favours
That I have fondly flattered her withal.
TRANIOAnd here I take the like unfeigned oath
Never to marry with her, though she would entreat.
Fie on her, see how beastly she doth court him!
HORTENSIOWould 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, Signor 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
TRANIOMistress 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.
BIANCATranio, you jest. But have you both forsworn me?
TRANIOMistress, we have.
LUCENTIOThen we are rid of Licio.
TRANIOI’faith, he’ll have a lusty widow now,
That shall be wooed and wedded in a day.
BIANCAGod give him joy.
TRANIOAy, and he’ll tame her.
BIANCAHe says so, Tranio.
TRANIOFaith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCAThe taming-school—what, is there such a place?
TRANIOAy, mistress, and Petruccio is the master,
That teacheth tricks eleven-and-twenty long
To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLOO, master, master, I have watched so long
That I am dog-weary, but at last I spied
An ancient angel coming down the hill
Will serve the turn.
TRANIOWhat is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLOMaster, a marcantant or a pedant,
I know not what, but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIOAnd what of him, Tranio?
TRANIOIf 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
(didascalia)Enter a Pedant
PEDANTGod save you, sir.
TRANIOAnd you, sir. You are welcome.
Travel you farre on, or are you at the farthest?
PEDANTSir, at the farthest for a week or two,
But then up farther and as far as Rome,
And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
TRANIOWhat countryman, I pray?
PEDANTOf Mantua.
TRANIOOf Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid,
And come to Padua careless of your life!
PEDANTMy life, sir? How, I pray? For that goes hard.
TRANIO‘Tis death for anyone in Mantua
To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stayed at Venice, and the Duke,
For private quarrel ’twixt your Duke and him,
Hath published and proclaimed it openly.
’Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaimed about.
PEDANTAlas, sir, it is worse for me than so,
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.
TRANIOWell, sir, to do you courtesy
This will I do, and this I will advise you.
First tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
PEDANTAy, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIOAmong them know you one Vincentio?
PEDANTI know him not, but I have heard of him,
A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIOHe is my father, sir, and sooth to say,
In count’nance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO(aside) As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
TRANIOTo 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 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.
PEDANTO sir, I do, and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIOThen go with me to make the matter good.
This, by the way, I let you understand—
My father is here looked 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

Atto 4, Scena 3

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Katherine and Grumio
GRUMIONo, no, forsooth. I dare not, for my life.
KATHERINEThe 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 alms,
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 oaths 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.
GRUMIOWhat say you to a neat’s foot?
KATHERINE‘Tis passing good. I prithee, let me have it.
GRUMIOI fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?
KATHERINEI like it well. Good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIOI cannot tell, I fear ’tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard?
KATHERINEA dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIOAy, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHERINEWhy then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIONay, then I will not. You shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHERINEThen both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
GRUMIOWhy then, the mustard without the beef.
KATHERINEGo, get thee gone, thou false, deluding slave,
(Beating 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.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Hortensio, with meat
PETRUCCIOHow fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
HORTENSIOMistress, what cheer?
KATHERINEFaith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCCIOPluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am
To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee. 40
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov’st it not,
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.
KATHERINEI pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCCIOThe poorest service is repaid with thanks,
And so shall mine before you touch the meat.
KATHERINEI thank you, sir.
HORTENSIOSignor Petruccio, fie, you are to blame.
Come, Mistress Kate, I’ll bear you company.
PETRUCCIO(aside)
Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov’st me.
(To Katherine) 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 farthingales, and things,
With scarves, 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.
(didascalia)Enter Tailor with a gown
PETRUCCIOCome, tailor, let us see these ornaments.
Lay forth the gown.
(didascalia)Enter Haberdasher with a cap
PETRUCCIOWhat news with you, sir?
HABERDASHERHere is the cap your worship did bespeak.
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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.
KATHERINEI’ll have no bigger. This doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
PETRUCCIOWhen you are gentle you shall have one, too,
And not till then.
HORTENSIO(aside) That will not be in haste.
KATHERINEWhy, 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.
PETRUCCIOWhy, thou sayst true. It is a paltry cap,
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie.
I love thee well in that thou lik’st it not.
KATHERINELove me or love me not, I like the cap
And it I will have, or I will have none.
[Exit Haberdasher]
PETRUCCIOThy 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 scissor in a barber’s shop.
Why, what o’ devil’s name, tailor, call’st thou this?
HORTENSIO(aside)
I see she’s like to have nor cap nor gown.
TAILORYou bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCCIOMarry, and did, but if you be remembered
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.
KATHERINEI never saw a better fashioned gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable.
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCCIOWhy true, he means to make a puppet of thee.
TAILORShe says your worship means to make a puppet of her.
PETRUCCIOO 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 bemete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv’st.
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marred her gown.
TAILORYour worship is deceived. The gown is made
Just as my master had direction.
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIOI gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
TAILORBut how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIOMarry, sir, with needle and thread.
TAILORBut did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIOThou hast faced many things.
TAILORI have.
GRUMIOFace 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(showing a paper) Why, here is the note of the fashion, to testify.
PETRUCCIORead it.
GRUMIOThe note lies in’s throat if he say I said so.
TAILOR(reads) ‘Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.’
GRUMIOMaster, 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.
PETRUCCIOProceed.
TAILOR(reads) ‘With a small compassed cape.’
GRUMIOI confess the cape.
TAILOR(reads) ‘With a trunk sleeve.’
GRUMIOI confess two sleeves.
TAILOR(reads) ‘The sleeves curiously cut.’
PETRUCCIOAy, there’s the villany.
GRUMIOError i‘th’ bill, sir, error i’th’ 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. 146
TAILORThis is true that I say. An I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIOI am for thee straight. Take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIOGodamercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCCIOWell, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIOYou are i‘th’ right, sir. ‘Tis for my mistress.
PETRUCCIO(to the Tailor)
Go, take it up unto thy master’s use.
GRUMIO(to the Tailor) Villain, not for thy life. Take up my mistress’ gown for thy master’s use!
PETRUCCIOWhy, sir, what’s your conceit in that?
GRUMIOO, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for. ‘Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use’—O fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCCIO(aside)
Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
(To the Tailor) Go, take it hence. Be gone, and say no
more.
HORTENSIO(aside to the Tailor)
Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow.
Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say. Commend me to thy master.
(didascalia)Exit Tailor
PETRUCCIOWell, 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 feathers 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.
KATHERINEI dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two,
And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCCIOIt 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 today, and ere I do
It shall be what o’clock I say it is.
HORTENSIO(aside)
Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 4

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and the Pedant dressed like Vincentio, booted and bare-headed
TRANIOSir, this is the house. Please it you that I call?
PEDANTAy, what else. And but I be deceived,
Signor Baptista may remember me
Near twenty years ago in Genoa—
TRANIOWhere we were lodgers at the Pegasus.—
Tis well, and hold your own in any case
With such austerity as ‘longeth to a father.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
PEDANTI warrant you. But sir, here comes your boy.
’Twere good he were schooled.
TRANIOFear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.
Imagine ’twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLOTut, fear not me.
TRANIOBut hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLOI told him that your father was at Venice
And that you looked for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO(giving money)
Thou’rt a tall fellow. Hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, and Lucentio as Cambio
TRANIOSignor 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.
PEDANTSoft, son. (To Baptista) 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 matched, 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 bestowed,
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signor Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
BAPTISTASir, 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.
TRANIOI 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?
BAPTISTANot in my house, Lucentio, for you know
Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants.
Besides, old Gremio is heark’ning still,
And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIOThen 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.
BAPTISTAIt likes me well. Cambio, 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.
ExitLucentio
BIONDELLOI pray the gods she may with all my heart.
TRANIODally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
(didascalia)Exit Biondello
TRANIOSignor Baptista, shall I lead the way?
Welcome. One mess is like to be your cheer.
Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa.
BAPTISTAI follow you.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 5

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Lucentio and Biondello
BIONDELLOCambio.
LUCENTIOWhat sayst thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLOYou saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
LUCENTIOBiondello, what of that?
BIONDELLOFaith, nothing, but he’s left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
LUCENTIOI pray thee, moralize them.
BIONDELLOThen thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
LUCENTIOAnd what of him?
BIONDELLOHis daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
LUCENTIOAnd then?
BIONDELLOThe old priest at Saint Luke’s church is at your command at all hours.
LUCENTIOAnd what of all this?
BIONDELLOI cannot tell, except they are busied about a counterfeit assurance. Take you assurance of her cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum—to th’ 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.
LUCENTIOHear’st thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLOI 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 t’attend against you come with your appendix. Exit
LUCENTIOI 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Atto 4, Scena 6

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Hortensio, and servants
PETRUCCIOCome on, i’ God’s name. Once more toward our father’s.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
KATHERINEThe moon?—the sun. It is not moonlight now.
PETRUCCIOI say it is the moon that shines so bright.
KATHERINEI know it is the sun that shines so bright. 5
PETRUCCIONow, 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 crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed.
HORTENSIO(to Katherine)
Say as he says or we shall never go.
KATHERINEForward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon or sun or what you please,
And if you please to call it a rush-candle
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
PETRUCCIOI say it is the moon.
KATHERINEI know it is the moon.
PETRUCCIONay then you lie, it is the blessed sun.
KATHERINEThen God be blessed, it is the blessèd 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 still for Katherine.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, go thy ways. The field is won.
PETRUCCIOWell, forward, forward. Thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But soft, company is coming here.
(didascalia)Enter old Vincentio
PETRUCCIO(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.
HORTENSIOA will make the man mad to make the woman of him.
KATHERINEYoung 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
Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow.
PETRUCCIOWhy, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad.
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden as thou sayst he is.
KATHERINEPardon, 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.
PETRUCCIODo, good old grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travell’st. If along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.
VINCENTIOFair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
My name is called Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
A son of mine which long I have not seen.
PETRUCCIOWhat is his name?
VINCENTIOLucentio, gentle sir.
PETRUCCIOHappily 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 not grieved. She is of good esteem,
Her dowry 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.
He embraces Vincentio
VINCENTIOBut is this true, or is it else your pleasure
Like pleasant travellers to break a jest
Upon the company you overtake?
HORTENSIOI do assure thee, father, so it is.
PETRUCCIOCome, go along, and see the truth hereof,
For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
(didascalia)Exeunt all but Hortensio
HORTENSIOWell, Petruccio, this has put me in heart.
Have to my widow, and if she be froward,
Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
(didascalia)Exit

Atto 5, Scena 1

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca. Gremio is out before
BIONDELLOSoftly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.
LUCENTIOI fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home, therefore leave us.
BIONDELLONay, faith, I’ll see the church a’ your back and then come back to my master’s as soon as I can.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio, Bianca, and Biondello
GREMIOI marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Vincentio, Grumio, with attendants
PETRUCCIOSir, here’s the door. This is Lucentio’s house.
My father’s bears more toward the market-place.
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
VINCENTIOYou shall not choose but drink before you go.
I think I shall command your welcome here,
And by all likelihood some cheer is toward.
He knocks
GREMIOThey’re busy within. You were best knock louder.
Vincentio knocks again. The Pedant looks out of the window
PEDANTWhat’s he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
VINCENTIOIs Signor Lucentio within, sir?
PEDANTHe’s within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
VINCENTIOWhat if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withal?
PEDANTKeep your hundred pounds to yourself. He shall need none so long as I live.
PETRUCCIO(to Vincentio) Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. (To the Pedant) Do you hear, sir, to leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell Signor Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa and is here at the door to speak with him.
PEDANTThou liest. His father is come from Padua and here looking out at the window.
VINCENTIOArt thou his father?
PEDANTAy, sir, so his mother says, if I may believe her.
PETRUCCIO(to Vincentio) Why, how now, gentleman?Why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another man’s name.
PEDANTLay hands on the villain. I believe a means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLO(aside) I have seen them in the church together, God send ’em good shipping. But who is here? Mine old master, Vincentio—now we are undone and brought to nothing.
VINCENTIO(to Biondello) Come hither, crackhemp.
BIONDELLOI hope I may choose, sir.
VINCENTIOCome hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
BIONDELLOForgot you? No, sir, I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.
VINCENTIOWhat, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master’s father, Vincentio?
BIONDELLOWhat, my old worshipful old master? Yes, marry, sir, see where he looks out of the window.
VINCENTIOIs’t so indeed?
He beats Biondello
BIONDELLOHelp, help, help! Here’s a madman will murder me.
(didascalia)Exit
PEDANTHelp, son! Help, Signor Baptista!
(didascalia)Exit above
PETRUCCIOPrithee, Kate, let’s stand aside and see the end of this controversy.
They stand aside.
(didascalia)Enter Pedant with servants, Baptista, Tranio
PETRUCCIOas Lucentio
TRANIO(to Vincentio) Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
VINCENTIOWhat am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir? O immortal gods, O fine villain, a silken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak, and a copintank hat—O, I am undone, I am undone! While I play the good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.
TRANIOHow now, what’s the matter?
BAPTISTAWhat, is the man lunatic?
TRANIOSir, you seem a sober, ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman. Why sir, what ‘cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
VINCENTIOThy father! O villain, he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
BAPTISTAYou mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray what do you think is his name?
VINCENTIOHis name? As if I knew not his name—I have brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.
PEDANTAway, away, mad ass. His name is Lucentio, and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signor Vincentio.
VINCENTIOLucentio? O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the Duke’s name. O my son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
TRANIOCall forth an officer.
(didascalia)Enter an Officer
TRANIOCarry this mad knave to the jail. Father Baptista, I
charge you see that he be forthcoming.
VINCENTIOCarry me to the jail?
GREMIOStay, officer, he shall not go to prison.
BAPTISTATalk not, Signor Gremio. I say he shall go to prison.
GREMIOTake heed, Signor Baptista, lest you be cony-catched in this business. I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.
PEDANTSwear if thou dar’st.
GREMIONay, I dare not swear it.
TRANIOThen thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
GREMIOYes, I know thee to be Signor Lucentio.
BAPTISTAAway with the dotard. To the jail with him.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca
VINCENTIOThus strangers may be haled and abused. O monstrous villain!
BIONDELLOO, we are spoiled and—yonder he is. Deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.
(didascalia)Exeunt Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant, as fast as may be
LUCENTIO(to Vincentio) Pardon, sweet father.
He kneels
VINCENTIOLives my sweet son?
BIANCA(to Baptista) Pardon, dear father.
BAPTISTAHow hast thou offended? Where is Lucentio?
LUCENTIOHere’s Lucentio, right son to the right Vincentio,
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
GREMIOHere’s packing with a witness, to deceive us all.
VINCENTIOWhere is that damned villain Tranio,
That faced and braved me in this matter so?
BAPTISTAWhy, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
BIANCACambio is changed into Lucentio.
LUCENTIOLove wrought these miracles. Bianca’s love
Made me exchange my state with Tranio
While he did bear my countenance in the town,
And happily I have arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforced him to.
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
VINCENTIOI’ll slit the villain’s nose that would have sent me to the jail.
BAPTISTABut do you hear, sir, have you married my daughter without asking my good will? 125
VINCENTIOFear not, Baptista. We will content you. Go to, but I will in to be revenged for this villainy.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTAAnd I to sound the depth of this knavery. Exit
LUCENTIOLook not pale, Bianca. Thy father will not frown.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
GREMIOMy cake is dough, but I’ll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.
(didascalia)Exit
KATHERINE(coming forward) Husband, let’s follow to see the end of this ado.
PETRUCCIOFirst kiss me, Kate, and we will.
KATHERINEWhat, in the midst of the street?
PETRUCCIOWhat, art thou ashamed of me?
KATHERINENo, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
PETRUCCIOWhy then, let’s home again. Come sirrah, let’s away.
KATHERINENay, I will give thee a kiss. Now pray thee love, stay. They kiss
PETRUCCIOIs not this well? Come, my sweet Kate.
Better once than never, for never too late.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 2

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio and Bianca, Petruccio, Katherine, and Hortensio, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and the Widow, the servingmen with Tranio bringing in a banquet
LUCENTIOAt last, though long, our jarring notes agree,
And time it is when raging war is done
To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with selfsame kindness welcome thine.
Brother Petruccio, sister Katherina,
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house.
My banquet is to close our stomachs up
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down,
For now we sit to chat as well as eat.
They sit
PETRUCCIONothing but sit, and sit, and eat, and eat.
BAPTISTAPadua affords this kindness, son Petruccio.
PETRUCCIOPadua affords nothing but what is kind.
HORTENSIOFor both our sakes I would that word were true. 15
PETRUCCIONow, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
WIDOWThen never trust me if I be afeard.
PETRUCCIOYou are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense.
I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
WIDOWHe that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
PETRUCCIORoundly replied.
KATHERINEMistress, how mean you that?
WIDOWThus I conceive by him.
PETRUCCIOConceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
HORTENSIOMy widow says thus she conceives her tale.
PETRUCCIOVery well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.
KATHERINE‘He that is giddy thinks the world turns round’—
I pray you tell me what you meant by that.
WIDOWYour husband, being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husband’s sorrow by his woe.
And now you know my meaning.
KATHERINEA very mean meaning.
WIDOWRight, I mean you.
KATHERINEAnd I am mean indeed respecting you.
PETRUCCIOTo her, Kate!
HORTENSIOTo her, widow!
PETRUCCIOA hundred marks my Kate does put her down.
HORTENSIOThat’s my office.
PETRUCCIOSpoke like an officer! Ha’ to thee, lad.
He drinks to Hortensio
BAPTISTAHow likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
GREMIOBelieve me, sir, they butt together well.
BIANCAHead and butt? An hasty-witted body
Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
VINCENTIOAy, mistress bride, hath that awakened you?
BIANCAAy, but not frighted me, therefore I’ll sleep again.
PETRUCCIONay, that you shall not. Since you have begun,
Have at you for a better jest or two.
BIANCAAm I your bird? I mean to shift my bush,
And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
You are welcome all.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca with Katherine and the Widow
PETRUCCIOShe hath prevented me here, Signor Tranio.
This bird you aimed at, though you hit her not.
Therefore a health to all that shot and missed.
TRANIOO sir, Lucentio slipped me like his greyhound,
Which runs himself and catches for his master.
PETRUCCIOA good swift simile, but something currish.
TRANIO‘Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself.
’Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
BAPTISTAO, O, Petruccio, Tranio hits you now.
LUCENTIOI thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
HORTENSIOConfess, confess, hath he not hit you here?
PETRUCCIOA has a little galled me, I confess,
And as the jest did glance away from me,
‘Tis ten to one it maimed you two outright.
BAPTISTANow in good sadness, son Petruccio,
I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
PETRUCCIOWell, I say no.—And therefore, Sir Assurance,
Let’s each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most obedient
To come at first when he doth send for her
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
HORTENSIOContent. What’s the wager?
LUCFNTIOTwenty crowns.
PETRUCCIOTwenty crowns!
I’ll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.
LUCENTIOA hundred, then.
HORTENSIOContent.
PETRUCCIOA match, ‘tis done.
HORTENSIOWho shall begin?
LUCENTIOThat will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
BIONDELLOI go.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTASon, I’ll be your half Bianca comes.
LUCENTIOI’ll have no halves, I’ll bear it all myself.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
LUCENTIOHow now, what news?
BIONDELLOSir, my mistress sends you word
That she is busy and she cannot come.
PETRUCCIOHow? She’s busy and she cannot come?
Is that an answer?
GREMlO Ay, and a kind one, too.
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
PETRUCCIOI hope, better.
HORTENSIOSirrah Biondello,
Go and entreat my wife to come to me forthwith.
(didascalia)Exit Biondello
PETRUCCIOO ho, ‘entreat’ her—nay, then she must needs come.
HORTENSIOI am afraid, sir, do what you can,
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
HORTENSIOYours will not be entreated. Now, where’s my wife?
BIONDELLOShe says you have some goodly jest in hand.
She will not come. She bids you come to her.
PETRUCCIOWorse and worse! She will not come—O vile,
Intolerable, not to be endured!
Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress.
Say I command her come to me.
(didascalia)Exit Grumio
HORTENSIOI know her answer.
PETRUCCIOWhat?
HORTENSIOShe will not.
PETRUCCIOThe fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
(didascalia)Enter Katherine
BAPTISTANow by my halidom, here comes Katherina.
KATHERINE(to Petruccio)
What is your will, sir, that you send for me?
PETRUCCIOWhere is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?
KATHERINEThey sit conferring by the parlour fire.
PETRUCCIOGo, fetch them hither. If they deny to come,
Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
(didascalia)Exit Katherine
LUCENTIOHere is a wonder, if you talk of wonders.
HORTENSIOAnd so it is. I wonder what it bodes.
PETRUCCIOMarry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life;
An aweful rule and right supremacy,
And, to be short, what not that’s sweet and happy.
BAPTISTANow fair befall thee, good Petruccio,
The wager thou hast won, and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns,
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is changed as she had never been.
PETRUCCIONay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
(didascalia)Enter Katherine, Bianca, and the Widow
PETRUCCIOSee where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not.
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.
Katherine throws down her cap
WIDOWLord, let me never have a cause to sigh
Till I be brought to such a silly pass.
BIANCAFie, what a foolish duty call you this?
LUCENTIOI would your duty were as foolish, too.
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time.
BIANCAThe more fool you for laying on my duty.
PETRUCCIOKatherine, I charge thee tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
WIDOWCome, come, you’re mocking. We will have no telling.
PETRUCCIOCome on, I say, and first begin with her.
WIDOWShe shall not.
PETRUCCIOI say she shall: and first begin with her.
KATHERINEFie, fie, unknit that threat’ning, unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband,
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms,
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband’s foot,
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
PETRUCCIOWhy, there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
They kiss
LUCENTIOWell, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha’t.
VINCENTIO‘Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
LUCENTIOBut a harsh hearing when women are froward.
PETRUCCIOCome, Kate, we’ll to bed.
We three are married, but you two are sped.
’Twas I won the wager, though (to Lucentio) you hit
the white,
And being a winner, God give you good night.
(didascalia)Exit Petruccio with Katherine
HORTENSIONow go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrew.
LUCENTIO’Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
(didascalia)Exeunt
ADDITIONAL PASSAGESThe Taming of A Shrew, printed in 1594 and believed to derive from Shakespeare’s play as performed, contains episodes continuing and rounding off the Christopher Sly framework which may echo passages written by Shakespeare but not printed in the Folio. They are given below.

A. The following exchange occurs at a point for which there is no exact equivalent in Shakespeare’s play. It could come at the end of 2.1.The ‘fool’ of the first line is Sander, the counterpart of Grumio.
Then Sly speaks
SLYSim, when will the fool come again?
LORDHe’ll come again, my lord, anon.
SLYGi’s some more drink here. Zounds, where’s the tapster? Here, Sim, eat some of these things.
LORDSo I do, my lord.
SLYHere, Sim, I drink to thee.
LORDMy lord, here comes the players again.
SLYO brave, here’s two fine gentlewomen.

B. This passage comes between 4.5 and 4.6. If it originates with Shakespeare it implies that Grumio accompanies Petruccio at the beginning of 4.6.
SLYSim, must they be married now?
LORDAy, my lord.
(didascalia)Enter Ferando and Kate and Sander
SLYLook, Sim, the fool is come again now.

C. Sly interrupts the action of the play-within-play. This is at 5.1.102 of Shakespeare’s play.
Phylotus and Valeria runs away.

Then Sly speaks
SLYI say we’ll have no sending to prison.
LORDMy lord, this is but the play. They’re but in jest.
SLYI tell thee, Sim, we’ll have no sending to prison, that’s flat. Why, Sim, am not I Don Christo Vary? Therefore I say they shall not go to prison.
LORDNo more they shall not, my lord. They be run away.
SLYAre they run away, Sim? That’s well. Then gi’s some more drink, and let them play again.
LORDHere, my lord.
Sly drinks and then falls asleep
D. Sly is carried off between 5.1 and 5.2.
(didascalia)Exeunt omnes
LORDSly sleeps
LORDWho’s within there? Come hither, sirs, my lord’s
Asleep again. Go take him easily up
And put him in his own apparel again,
And lay him in the place where we did find him
Just underneath the alehouse side below.
But see you wake him not in any case.
BOYIt shall be done, my lord. Come help to bear him hence.
(didascalia)Exit
BOYE. The conclusion.
Then enter two bearing of Sly in his own apparel again and leaves him where they found him and then goes out. Then enter the Tapster
TAPSTERNow that the darksome night is overpast
And dawning day appears in crystal sky,
Now must I haste abroad. But soft, who’s this?
What, Sly! O wondrous, hath he lain here all night?
I’ll wake him. I think he’s starved by this,
But that his belly was so stuffed with ale.
What ho, Sly, awake, for shame!
SLYSim, gi’s some more wine. What, ’s all the players gone? Am not I a lord?
TAPSTERA lord with a murrain! Come, art thou drunken still?
SLYWho’s this? Tapster? O Lord, sirrah, I have had
The bravest dream tonight that ever thou
Heardest in all thy life.
TAPSTERAy, marry, but you had best get you home,
For your wife will course you for dreaming here tonight.
SLYWill she? I know now how to tame a shrew.
I dreamt upon it all this night till now,
And thou hast waked me out of the best dream
That ever I had in my life. But I’ll to my
Wife presently and tame her too,
An if she anger me.
TAPSTERNay, tarry, Sly, for I’ll go home with thee
And hear the rest that thou hast dreamt tonight.
(didascalia)Exeunt omnes
THE FIRST PART OFTHE CONTENTION
(2 HENRY VI)
WHENShakespeare’s history plays were gathered together in the 1623 Folio, seven years after he died, they were printed in the order of their historical events, each with a title naming the king in whose reign those events occurred. No one supposes that this is the order in which Shakespeare wrote them; and the Folio titles are demonstrably not, in all cases, those by which the plays were originally known. The three concerned with the reign of Henry VI are listed in the Folio, simply and unappealingly, as the First, Second, and Third Parts of King Henry the Sixth, and these are the names by which they have continued to be known. Versions of the Second and Third had appeared long before the Folio, in 1594 and 1595; their head titles read The First Part of the Contention of the two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster with the Death of the Good Duke Humphrey and The True Tragedy of Richard, Duke of York, and the Good King Henry the Sixth. These are, presumably, full versions of the plays’ original titles, and we revert to them in preference to the Folio’s historical listing.
A variety of internal evidence suggests that the Folio’s Part One was composed after The First Part of the Contention and Richard, Duke of York, so we depart from the Folio order, though a reader wishing to read the plays in their narrative sequence will read Henry VI, Part One before the other two plays. The dates of all three are uncertain, but Part One is alluded to in 1592, when it was probably new. The First Part of the Contention probably belongs to 1590-1.
The play draws extensively on English chronicle history for its portrayal of the troubled state of England under Henry VI (1421-71). It dramatizes the touchingly weak King’s powerlessness against the machinations of his nobles, especially Richard, Duke of York, himself ambitious for the throne. Richard engineers the Kentish rebellion, led by Jack Cade, which provides some of the play’s liveliest episodes; and at the play’s end Richard seems poised to take the throne.
Historical events of ten years (11445-55) are dramatized with comparative fidelity within a coherent structure that offers a wide variety of theatrical entertainment. Though the play employs old-fashioned conventions of language (particularly the recurrent classical references) and of dramaturgy (such as the horrors of severed heads), its bold characterization, its fundamentally serious but often ironically comic presentation of moral and political issues, the powerful rhetoric of its verse, and the vivid immediacy of its prose have proved highly effective in its rare modern revivals.
THE PERSONS OF THEPLAY

Of the King’s Party
QUEEN MARGARETWilliam de la Pole, Marquis, later Duke, of SUFFOLK, the Queen’s lover
Duke Humphrey of GLOUCESTER, the Lord Protector, the King’s uncle
Dame Eleanor Cobham, the DUCHESS of Gloucester
CARDINALBEAUFORT, Bishop of Winchester, Gloucester’s uncle and the King’s great-uncle
Duke of BUCKINGHAM
Duke of SOMERSET
Old Lord CLIFFORD
YOUNGCLIFFORD, his son
Of the Duke of York’s Party
Earl of SALISBURY
Earl of WARWICK, his son
The petitions and the combat
Two or three PETITIONERS
Thomas HORNER, an armourer
PETERThump, his man
Three NEIGHBOURS, who drink to Horner
Three PRENTICES, who drink to Peter
The conjuration
Margery Jordan, a WITCH
Roger BOLINGBROKE, a conjurer
ASNATH, a spirit
The false miracle
Simon SIMPCOX
SIMPCOX’S WIFEThe MAYOR of Saint Albans
Aldermen of Saint Albans
A BEADLE of Saint Albans
Townsmen of Saint Albans
Eleanor’s penance
Gloucester’s SERVANTS
Two SHERIFFS of London
Sir John STANLEY
HERALDThe murder of Gloucester
Two MURDERERS
COMMONSThe murder of Suffolk
CAPTAINof a ship
MASTERof that ship
The Master’s MATE
Walter WHITMORE
Two GENTLEMEN
The Cade Rebellion
Jack CADE, a Kentishman suborned by the Duke of York
Three or four CITIZENS of London
Alexander IDEN, an esquire of Kent, who kills Cade
Others
VAUX, a messenger
MESSENGERSA SOLDIER
Attendants, guards, servants, soldiers, falconers

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Flourish. Enter Lucentio and his man, Tranio
LUCENTIOTranio, since for the great desire I had
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
I am arrived fore fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy,
And by my father’s love and leave am armed
With his good will and thy good company,
My trusty servant, well approved in all,
Here let us breathe, and haply institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
Gave me my being, and my father first—
A merchant of great traffic through the world,
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
Vincentio’s son, brought up in Florence,
It shall become to serve all hopes conceived
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds.
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
Virtue and that part of philosophy
Will I apply that treats of happiness
By virtue specially to be achieved.
Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left
And am to Padua come as he that leaves
A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
TRANIOMi perdonate, gentle master mine.
I am in all affected as yourself,
Glad that you thus continue your resolve
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Only, good master, while we do admire
This virtue and this moral discipline,
Let’s be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
Or so devote to Aristotle’s checks
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured.
Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk.
(didascalia)Music and poesy use to quicken you;
TRANIOThe mathematics and the metaphysics,
Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en.
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
LUCENTIOGramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
We could at once put us in readiness
And take a lodging fit to entertain
Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
But stay a while, what company is this?
TRANIOMaster, some show to welcome us to town.
(didascalia)Enter Baptista with his two daughters, Katherine and Bianca; Gremio, a pantaloon; Hortensio, suitor to Bianca. Lucentio and Tranio stand by
BAPTISTAGentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am resolved you know:
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
Before I have a husband for the elder.
If either of you both love Katherina,
Because I know you well and love you well
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
GREMIOTo cart her rather. She’s too rough for me.
There, there, Hortensio. Will you any wife?
KATHERINE(to Baptista)
I pray you, sir, is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
HORTENSIO‘Mates’, maid? How mean you that? No mates for
you
Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.
KATHERINEI’faith, sir, you shall never need to fear.
Iwis it is not half-way to her heart,
But if it were, doubt not her care should be
To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.
HORTENSIOFrom all such devils, good Lord deliver us.
GREMIOAnd me too, good Lord.
TRANIO(aside to Lucentio)
Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward.
That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
LUCENTIO(aside to Tranio)
But in the other’s silence do I see
Maid’s mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.
TRANIO(aside to Lucentio)
Well said, master. Mum, and gaze your fill.
BAPTISTAGentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said—Bianca, get you in.
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne’er the less, my girl.
KATHERINEA pretty peat! It is best
Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
BIANCASister, content you in my discontent.
(To Baptista) Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe.
My books and instruments shall be my company,
On them to look and practise by myself.
LUCENTIO(aside to Tranio)
Hark, Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak.
HORTENSIOSignor Baptista, will you be so strange?
Sorry am I that our good will effects
Bianca’s grief.
GREMIOWhy will you mew her up,
Signor Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
BAPTISTGentlemen, content ye. I am resolved.
Go in, Bianca.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca
BAPTISTAnd for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,
Or, Signor Gremio, you know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing up.
And so farewell. Katherina, you may stay,
For I have more to commune with Bianca.
(didascalia)Exit
KATHERINEWhy, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What, shall I be appointed hours, as though belike I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!
(didascalia)Exit
GREMIOYou may go to the devil’s dam. Your gifts are so good here’s none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together and fast it fairly out. Our cake’s dough on both sides. Farewell. Yet for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father.
HORTENSIOSo will I, Signor Gremio. But a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both—that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress and be happy rivals in Bianca’s love—to labour and effect one thing specially.
GREMIOWhat’s that, I pray?
HORTENSIOMarry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
GREMIOA husband?—a devil!
HORTENSIOI say a husband.
GREMIOI say a devil. Think’st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?
HORTENSIOTush, Gremio. Though it pass your patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough.
GREMIOI cannot tell, but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition: to be whipped at the high cross every morning.
HORTENSIOFaith, as you say, there’s small choice in rotten apples. But come, since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained till by helping Baptista’s eldest daughter to a husband we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to’t afresh. Sweet Bianca Happy man be his dole. He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, Signor Gremio?
GREMIOI am agreed, and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on.
(didascalia)Exeunt Hortensio and Gremio. Tranio and Lucentio remain
TRANIOI pray, sir, tell me : is it possible
That love should of a sudden take such hold?
LUCENTIOO Tranio, till I found it to be true
I never thought it possible or likely.
But see, while idly I stood looking on
I found the effect of love in idleness,
And now in plainness do confess to thee,
That art to me as secret and as dear
As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl.
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst.
Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.
TRANIOMaster, it is no time to chide you now.
Affection is not rated from the heart.
If love have touched you, naught remains but so—
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.
LUCENTIOGramercies, lad. Go forward, this contents.
The rest will comfort, for thy counsel’s sound.
TRANIOMaster, you looked so longly on the maid
Perhaps you marked not what’s the pith of all.
LUCENTIOO yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand
When with his knees he kissed the Cretan strand.
TRANIOSaw you no more? Marked you not how her sister
Began to scold and raise up such a storm
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din ?
LUCENTIOTranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air.
Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.
TRANIO(aside)
Nay, then ’tis time to stir him from his trance.
(To Lucentio) I pray, awake, sir. If you love the maid,
Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it
stands:
Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
That till the father rid his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home,
And therefore has he closely mewed her up
Because she will not be annoyed with suitors.
LUCENTIOAh, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he!
But art thou not advised he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
TRANIOAy, marry am I, sir, and now ’tis plotted.
LUCENTIOI have it, Tranio.
TRANIOMaster, for my hand,
Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
LUCENTIOTell me thine first.
TRANIOYou will be schoolmaster
And undertake the teaching of the maid.
That’s your device.
LUCENTIOIt is. May it be done?
TRANIONot possible; for who shall bear your part,
And be in Padua here Vincentio’s son,
Keep house, and ply his book, welcome his friends,
Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?
LUCENTIOBasta, content thee, for I have it full.
We have not yet been seen in any house,
Nor can we be distinguished by our faces
For man or master. Then it follows thus:
Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead;
Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should.
I will some other be, some Florentine,
Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
Tis hatched, and shall be so. Tranio, at once
Uncase thee. Take my coloured hat and cloak.
When Biondello comes he waits on thee,
But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
TRANIOSo had you need.
[They
exchange
clothes]
In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
And I am tied to be obedient—
For so your father charged me at our parting,
‘Be serviceable to my son,’ quoth he,
Although I think ’twas in another sense—
I am content to be Lucentio
Because so well I love Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, be so, because Lucentio loves,
And let me be a slave t’achieve that maid
Whose sudden sight hath thralled my wounded eye.
(didascalia)Enter
LUCENTIOBiondello
Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?
BIONDELLOWhere have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes, or you stolen his, or both? Pray, what’s the news?
LUCENTIOSirrah, come hither. ‘Tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life
Puts my apparel and my count’nance on,
And I for my escape have put on his,
For in a quarrel since I came ashore
I killed a man, and fear I was descried.
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life.
You understand me?
BIONDELLOI sir? Ne’er a whit.
LUCENTIOAnd not a jot of Tranio in your mouth.
Tranio is changed into Lucentio.
BIONDELLOThe better for him. Would I were so too.
TRANIOSo could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after—
That Lucentio indeed had Baptista’s youngest
daughter.
But sirrah, not for my sake but your master’s I advise
You use your manners discreetly in all kind of
companies.
When I am alone, why then I am Tranio,
But in all places else your master, Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, let’s go.
One thing more rests that thyself execute—
To make one among these wooers. If thou ask me
why,
Sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.
(didascalia)Exeunt
LUCENTIOThe presenters above speak
FIRST SERVINGMANMy lord, you nod. You do not mind the play.
SLYYes, by Saint Anne do I. A good matter, surely. Comes there any more of it?
BARTHOLOMEWMy lord, ’tis but begun.
SLY‘Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. Would ’twere done.
They sit and mark

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Squillo di trombe. Entrano Lucentio e il suo servo, Tranio
LUCENTIOTranio, poiché per il grande desiderio che avevo
di veder la bella Padova, vivaio delle arti,
son giunto alla feconda Lombardia,
l’ameno giardino della grande Italia,
e per l’amore e il permesso di mio padre son munito
del suo consenso e della tua buona compagnia,
mio fido servo, ben provato in ogni cosa,
qui prendiamo fiato, e forse instauriamo
un corso di dottrina e d’ingegnosi studi.
Pisa, rinomata per i suoi gravi cittadini,
mi diede l’essere, e mio padre prima di me—
mercante di gran traffici per il mondo,
Vincenzio, disceso dai Bentivogli.
Al figlio di Vincenzio, cresciuto a Firenze,
si converrà rispondere a tutte le speranze concepite
e adornar la sua fortuna con virtuose azioni.
E però, Tranio, per il tempo che studierò,
alla virtù e a quella parte della filosofia
mi applicherò che tratta della felicità
da conseguirsi in special modo per virtù.
Dimmi il tuo pensiero, ché ho lasciato Pisa
e a Padova son venuto come chi lascia
una pozza bassa per tuffarsi nel profondo,
e con la sazietà cerca di spegner la sua sete.
TRANIOMi perdonate, gentile padron mio.
In tutto io sento come voi stesso,
lieto che così perseveriate nel proposito
di suggere i dolci frutti della dolce filosofia.
Solo, buon padrone, mentre ammiriamo
questa virtù e questa morale disciplina,
non siamo stoici né ceppi, ve ne prego,
né tanto devoti ai freni d’Aristotele
che Ovidio sia un reietto del tutto abiurato.
Fate a gara di logica con le conoscenze che avete,
ed esercitate la retorica nel discorso comune.
(didascalia)Musica e poesia vi servano a ravvivarvi;
TRANIOAlle matematiche e alla metafisica,
datevi come il vostro appetito v’assiste.
Nessun profitto cresce dove non si prende piacere.
In breve, signore, studiate ciò che più v’aggrada.
LUCENTIOGran mercé, Tranio, bene tu consigli.
Se tu, Biondello, fossi sbarcato,
potremmo subito metterci in ordine
e prendere un alloggio atto a ricevere
quegli amici che il tempo a Padova ci darà.
Ma aspetta un poco: che gente è questa?
TRANIOPadrone, qualche spettacolo per darci il benvenuto in città.
(didascalia)Entra Battista con le sue due figlie, Caterina e Bianca; Gremio, un pantalone; Ortensio, pretendente di Bianca. Lucentio e Tranio stanno in disparte
BATTISTASignori, non m’importunate oltre,
ché sapete quanto io sia fermamente risoluto:
vale a dire, di non concedere la mia figlia minore
prima d’aver un marito per la maggiore.
Se l’uno di voi due ama Caterina,
poiché vi conosco bene e vi amo bene,
licenza avrete di corteggiarla a vostro piacere.
GREMIODi carrettarla, piuttosto. È troppo ruvida per me.
Ecco, ecco, Ortensio. Ne volete una, di moglie?
CATERINA(a Battista)
Vi prego, signore, è vostro volere
far di me uno zimbello fra questi compari?
ORTENSIO«Compari», fanciulla? Che intendete con ciò? Nessun compare per
voi
se non foste d’una pasta più gentile e mite.
CATERINAIn fede mia, signore, non avrete mai da temere.
Certo non è a mezza strada dal suo cuore,
ma se lo fosse, non dubitate che sua cura sarebbe
di pettinarvi la zucca con uno sgabello a tre gambe,
e dipingervi la faccia, e trattarvi da sciocco.
ORTENSIODa tutti simili diavoli, buon Dio, liberaci.
GREMIOE anche me, buon Dio.
TRANIO(a parte, a Lucentio)
Zitto, padrone, qui c’è un bel passatempo in vista.
Quella ragazza è pazza furiosa o mirabilmente bisbetica.
LUCENTIO(a parte, a Tranio)
Ma nel silenzio dell’altra io scorgo
il mite contegno e la sobrietà d’una vergine.
Taci, Tranio.
TRANIO(a parte, a Lucentio)
Ben detto, padrone. Muto, e guardate a sazietà.
BATTISTASignori, affinché io possa presto attenere
quel che ho detto—Bianca, rientra in casa.
E non ti dispiaccia, buona Bianca,
ché non t’amerò per questo di meno, figlia mia.
CATERINAChe bella cocca! Il meglio sarebbe
metterle il dito nell’occhio, sapesse perché.
BIANCASorella, appagatevi del mio dispiacere.
(A Battista) Signore, al vostro piacere umilmente sottoscrivo.
I miei libri e i miei strumenti saranno mia compagnia,
per contemplarli ed esercitarmi da sola.
LUCENTIO(a parte, a Tranio)
Odi, Tranio, puoi udire Minerva parlare.
ORTENSIOSignor Battista, sarete così scortese?
Mi duole che la nostra buona volontà produca
il dolore di Bianca.
GREMIOPerché volete rinchiuderla,
signor Battista, per questa furia d’inferno,
e farle scontar la penitenza della lingua di quell’altra?
BAPTISTSignori, acquietatevi. Son risoluto.
Entra, Bianca.
(didascalia)Esce Bianca
BAPTISTE poiché so ch’ella prende sommo diletto
nella musica, negli strumenti e nella poesia,
terrò maestri dentro la mia casa
atti a istruir la sua giovinezza. Se voi, Ortensio,
o voi, signor Gremio, ne conoscete alcuno,
indirizzatelo qua; ché verso gli uomini dotti
sarò assai cortese, e liberale
coi miei propri figli in buona educazione.
E così addio. Caterina, voi potete restare,
ché ho altro da conferire con Bianca.
(didascalia)Esce
CATERINACome, e spero di potermene andare anch’io, o no? Che, mi si fisseranno le ore, quasi ch’io non sapessi che cosa prendere e che cosa lasciare? Ah!
(didascalia)Esce
GREMIOPotete andarvene dalla madre del diavolo. Le vostre doti son così buone che nessuno qui vi tratterrà. Il loro amore non è così grande, Ortensio, che non possiamo soffiarci le unghie insieme e digiunare pazientemente. La nostra focaccia è cruda da entrambi i lati. Addio. Pure, per l’amore che porto alla mia dolce Bianca, se in qualche modo potrò imbattermi in un uomo adatto a insegnarle ciò in cui si diletta, lo raccomanderò a suo padre.
ORTENSIOAnch’io, signor Gremio. Ma una parola, vi prego. Benché la natura della nostra contesa non abbia finora tollerato parlamenti, sappiate ora, a ben pensarci, che tocca a entrambi—perché possiamo ancora aver accesso alla nostra bella signora ed essere felici rivali nell’amore di Bianca—adoperarci e condurre a effetto una cosa in special modo.
GREMIOE quale, di grazia?
ORTENSIOPerbacco, signore, procurare un marito a sua sorella.
GREMIOUn marito?—un diavolo!
ORTENSIOIo dico un marito.
GREMIOIo dico un diavolo. Credi tu, Ortensio, per quanto suo padre sia ricchissimo, che alcun uomo sia tanto sciocco da sposarsi all’inferno?
ORTENSIOVia, Gremio. Benché superi la vostra e la mia pazienza sopportare i suoi strepiti, ebbene, amico, vi son buoni compagni al mondo, se uno potesse imbattervisi, che la prenderebbero con tutti i suoi difetti, e denaro a sufficienza.
GREMIONon saprei, ma prenderei altrettanto volentieri la sua dote a questa condizione: d’esser frustato all’alta croce ogni mattina.
ORTENSIOIn fede, come dite, poca scelta c’è fra mele marce. Ma via, poiché questo impedimento di legge ci fa amici, sia mantenuta amicizia fin tanto che, aiutando la figlia maggiore di Battista a trovar marito, non liberiamo la minore per un marito, e poi daccapo. Dolce Bianca! Fortunato l’uomo cui tocchi tal sorte. Chi corre più veloce prende l’anello. Che ne dite, signor Gremio?
GREMIOSon d’accordo, e vorrei avergli dato il miglior cavallo di Padova per cominciare il suo corteggiamento, a chi la corteggiasse a fondo, la sposasse, se la portasse a letto, e sbarazzasse la casa di lei. Andiamo.
(didascalia)Escono Ortensio e Gremio. Restano Tranio e Lucentio
TRANIOVi prego, signore, ditemi: è possibile
che l’amore prenda a un tratto tal presa?
LUCENTIOO Tranio, finché non l’ho trovato vero
mai lo credetti possibile né verosimile.
Ma vedi: mentre oziosamente stavo a guardare
ho trovato l’effetto dell’amore nell’ozio,
e ora schiettamente ti confesso,
a te che mi sei segreto e caro
quanto Anna fu alla Regina di Cartagine,
Tranio, io ardo, mi struggo, perisco, Tranio,
s’io non conquisto questa giovane e modesta fanciulla.
Consigliami, Tranio, ché so che puoi.
Assistimi, Tranio, ché so che vorrai.
TRANIOPadrone, non è tempo ora di sgridarvi.
L’affetto non si scaccia dal cuore a rimproveri.
Se l’amore v’ha toccato, altro non resta che questo—
Redime te captum quam queas minimo.
LUCENTIOGran mercé, ragazzo. Prosegui, questo m’appaga.
Il resto conforterà, ché il tuo consiglio è saldo.
TRANIOPadrone, tanto a lungo guardaste la fanciulla
che forse non notaste il nocciolo di tutto.
LUCENTIOOh sì, vidi dolce bellezza nel suo volto,
tale quale l’ebbe la figlia d’Agenore,
che fece il gran Giove umiliarsi alla sua mano
quando con le ginocchia baciò la spiaggia cretese.
TRANIONon vedeste altro? Non notaste come sua sorella
prese a sgridare e a levare tal tempesta
che orecchie mortali a stento ne reggevano il frastuono?
LUCENTIOTranio, vidi muoversi le sue labbra di corallo,
e col suo fiato profumava l’aria.
Sacro e dolce fu tutto ciò che vidi in lei.
TRANIO(a parte)
Suvvia, è tempo di scuoterlo dal suo rapimento.
(A Lucentio) Vi prego, destatevi, signore. Se amate la fanciulla,
volgete pensieri e ingegno a conquistarla. La cosa
sta così:
la sua sorella maggiore è tanto acida e bisbetica
che finché il padre non se ne sia sbarazzato,
padrone, il vostro amore dovrà viver vergine in casa,
e però l’ha strettamente rinchiusa
perché non sia molestata dai pretendenti.
LUCENTIOAh, Tranio, che padre crudele è costui!
Ma non hai udito ch’ei si diede qualche pensiero
di procurarle esperti maestri per istruirla?
TRANIOSì, perbacco, signore, e ora il piano è ordito.
LUCENTIOL’ho trovato, Tranio.
TRANIOPadrone, ci scommetto la mano,
le nostre due trovate s’incontrano e coincidono in una.
LUCENTIODimmi prima la tua.
TRANIOVoi sarete il maestro
e v’assumerete l’insegnamento della fanciulla.
Questo è il vostro disegno.
LUCENTIOÈ così. Si può fare?
TRANIONon è possibile; ché chi sosterrà la vostra parte,
ed essere qui in Padova il figlio di Vincenzio,
tener casa, attendere ai libri, accogliere gli amici,
visitare i compatrioti e banchettarli?
LUCENTIOBasta, acquietati, ché ho tutto in mente.
Non siamo stati ancor visti in alcuna casa,
né si può distinguerci dai volti
chi sia servo e chi padrone. Dunque ne segue:
tu sarai il padrone, Tranio, in vece mia;
terrai casa, e stato, e servi, come io dovrei.
Io sarò qualcun altro, un fiorentino,
un napoletano, o un uomo più umile di Pisa.
È covata, e così sarà. Tranio, subito
spogliati. Prendi il mio cappello colorato e il mantello.
Quando verrà Biondello servirà te,
ma prima lo incanterò perché tenga a freno la lingua.
TRANIONe avreste ben bisogno.
[Si
scambiano
le vesti]
In breve, signore, poiché tale è il vostro piacere,
e io son tenuto a obbedire—
ché così m’ingiunse vostro padre alla partenza,
«Sii di servizio a mio figlio», disse egli,
benché io creda fosse in altro senso—
son contento d’essere Lucentio
perché tanto bene io amo Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, siilo, perché Lucentio ama,
e lascia ch’io sia schiavo per conquistar quella fanciulla
la cui vista improvvisa ha soggiogato il mio occhio ferito.
(didascalia)Entra
LUCENTIOBiondello
Ecco che viene il briccone. Messere, dove siete stato?
BIONDELLODove sono stato io? Ma come, e voi dove siete? Padrone, il mio compagno Tranio v’ha rubato le vesti, o voi le sue, o entrambi? Di grazia, che novità son queste?
LUCENTIOMessere, vieni qua. Non è tempo di scherzare,
e però conforma i tuoi modi al tempo.
Il tuo compagno Tranio qui, per salvarmi la vita,
si mette il mio abito e il mio sembiante,
e io per fuggire ho indossato il suo,
ché in una rissa da quando son sbarcato
ho ucciso un uomo, e temo d’esser stato scorto.
Servi lui, te l’impongo, come si conviene,
mentr’io mi allontano di qui per salvar la vita.
Mi comprendi?
BIONDELLOIo, signore? Neppure un briciolo.
LUCENTIOE non un’ombra di Tranio sulla tua bocca.
Tranio è mutato in Lucentio.
BIONDELLOTanto meglio per lui. Vorrei esserlo anch’io.
TRANIOAnch’io, in fede, ragazzo, per avere il desiderio che vien poi—
che Lucentio avesse davvero la figlia minore
di Battista.
Ma, messere, non per me ma per il tuo padrone ti consiglio
d’usar discretamente i tuoi modi in ogni sorta
di compagnia.
Quando son solo, ebbene, allora son Tranio,
ma in ogni altro luogo il tuo padrone, Lucentio.
LUCENTIOTranio, andiamo.
Resta un’altra cosa che tu stesso eseguirai—
farti uno fra questi pretendenti. Se mi chiedi
perché,
basti che le mie ragioni son buone e gravi.
(didascalia)Escono
LUCENTIOI presentatori parlano dall’alto
PRIMO SERVITOREMio signore, sonnecchiate. Non badate alla commedia.
SLYSì che ci bado, per Sant’Anna. Buona roba, davvero. Ce n’è ancora?
BARTHOLOMEWMio signore, è appena cominciata.
SLYÈ un lavoro eccellentissimo, madama signora. Vorrei che fosse finito.
Siedono e stanno a guardare

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and his man, Grumio
PETRUCCIOVerona, for a while I take my leave
To see my friends in Padua; but of all
My best-beloved and approved friend
Hortensio, and I trow this is his house.
Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.
GRUMIOKnock, sir? Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused your worship?
PETRUCCIOVillain, I say, knock me here soundly.
GRUMIOKnock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir?
PETRUCCIOVillain, I say, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well or I’ll knock your knave’s pate.
GRUMIOMy master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you
first,
And then I know after who comes by the worst.
PETRUCCIOWill it not be?
Faith, sirrah, an you’ll not knock, I’ll ring it.
I’ll try how you can sol-fa and sing it.
He wrings him by the ears. [Grumio kneels]
GRUMIOHelp, masters, help! My master is mad.
PETRUCCIONow knock when I bid you, sirrah villain.
(didascalia)Enter
PETRUCCIOHortensio
HORTENSIOHow now, what’s the matter? My old friend Grumio and my good friend Petruccio ? How do you all at Verona?
PETRUCCIOSignor Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.
HORTENSIOAlla nostra casa ben venuto, molto onorato signor mio Petruccio. Rise, Grumio, rise. We will compound this quarrel.
Grumio rises
GRUMIONay, ‘tis no matter, sir, what he ’leges in Latin. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service-look you, sir: he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so, being perhaps, for aught I see, two-and-thirty, a pip out? Whom would to God I had well knocked at first, Then had not Grumio come by the worst.
PETRUCCIOA senseless villain. Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.
GRUMIOKnock at the gate? O heavens, spake you not these words plain? ‘Sirrah, knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly’ ? And come you now with knocking at the gate?
PETRUCCIOSirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, patience. I am Grumio’s pledge.
Why this’ a heavy chance ’twixt him and you,
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here from old Verona ?
PETRUCCIOSuch wind as scatters young men through the world
To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience grows. But in a few,
Signor Hortensio, thus it stands with me :
Antonio, my father, is deceased,
And I have thrust myself into this maze
Happily to wive and thrive as best I may.
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, shall I then come roundly to thee
And wish thee to a shrewd, ill-favoured wife?
Thou‘dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet I’ll promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich. But thou’rt too much my friend,
And I’ll not wish thee to her.
PETRUCCIOSignor Hortensio, ’twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruccio’s wife—
As wealth is burden of my wooing dance
Be she as foul as was Florentius’ love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates’ Xanthippe or a worse,
She moves me not—or not removes at least
Affection’s edge in me, were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
GRUMIO(to Hortensio) Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is. Why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an aglet-baby, or an old trot with ne’er a tooth in her head, though she have as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses. Why, nothing comes amiss so money comes withal.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, since we are stepped thus far in,
I will continue that I broached in jest.
I can, Petruccio, help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beauteous,
Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman.
Her only fault—and that is faults enough—
Is that she is intolerable curst,
And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure
That, were my state far worser than it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
PETRUCCIOHortensio, peace. Thou know‘st not gold’s effect.
Tell me her father’s name and ’tis enough,
For I will board her though she chide as loud
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
HORTENSIOHer father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman.
Her name is Katherina Minola,
Renowned in Padua for her scolding tongue.
PETRUCCIOI know her father, though I know not her,
And he knew my deceased father well.
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.
GRUMIOI pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O’ my word, an she knew him as well as I do she would think scolding would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a score knaves or so. Why, that’s nothing; an he begin once he’ll rail in his rope-tricks. I’ll tell you what, sir, an she stand him but a little he will throw a figure in her face and so disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.
HORTENSIOTarry, Petruccio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista’s keep my treasure is.
He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,
And her withholds from me and other more,
Suitors to her and rivals in my love,
Supposing it a thing impossible,
For those defects I have before rehearsed,
That ever Katherina will be wooed.
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta’en:
That none shall have access unto Bianca
Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.
GRUMIOKatherine the curst—
A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
HORTENSIONow shall my friend Petruccio do me grace,
And offer me disguised in sober robes
To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca,
That so I may by this device at least
Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
And unsuspected court her by herself.
(didascalia)Enter Gremio with a paper, and Lucentio disguised as a schoolmaster
GRUMIOHere’s no knavery. See, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Master, master, look about you. Who goes there, ha?
HORTENSIOPeace, Grumio, it is the rival of my love.
Petruccio, stand by a while.
GRUMIOA proper stripling, and an amorous!
Petruccio, Hortensio, and Grumio stand aside
GREMIO(to Lucentio)
O, very well—I have perused the note.
Hark you, sir, I’ll have them very fairly bound—
All books of love, see that at any hand—
And see you read no other lectures to her.
You understand me. Over and beside
Signor Baptista’s liberality,
I’ll mend it with a largess. Take your paper, too,
And let me have them very well perfumed,
For she is sweeter than perfume itself
To whom they go to. What will you read to her?
LUCENTIOWhate’er I read to her, I’ll plead for you
As for my patron, stand you so assured,
As firmly as yourself were still in place—
Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
GREMIOO this learning, what a thing it is!
GRUMIO(aside)
O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
PETRUCCIOPeace, sirrah.
HORTENSIOGrumio, mum. (Coming forward) God save you, Signor Gremio.
GREMIOAnd you are well met, Signor Hortensio.
Trow you whither I am going?
To Baptista Minola.
I promised to enquire carefully
About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca,
And by good fortune I have lighted well
On this young man, for learning and behaviour
Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
And other books—good ones, I warrant ye.
HORTENSIO‘Tis well, and I have met a gentleman
Hath promised me to help me to another,
A fine musician, to instruct our mistress.
So shall I no whit be behind in duty
To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.
GREMIOBeloved of me, and that my deeds shall prove.
GRUMIO(aside) And that his bags shall prove.
HORTENSIOGremio, ’tis now no time to vent our love.
Listen to me, and if you speak me fair
I’ll tell you news indifferent good for either.
Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
Upon agreement from us to his liking
Will undertake to woo curst Katherine,
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
GREMIOSo said, so done, is well.
Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
PETRUCCIOI know she is an irksome brawling scold.
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
GREMIONo, sayst me so, friend? What countryman?
PETRUCCIOBorn in Verona, old Antonio’s son.
My father dead, his fortune lives for me,
And I do hope good days and long to see.
GREMIOO sir, such a life with such a wife were strange.
But if you have a stomach, to’t, a’ God’s name.
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wildcat?
PETRUCCIOWill I live!
GRUMIOWill he woo her? Ay, or I’ll hang her.
PETRUCCIOWhy came I hither but to that intent?
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven’s artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud ’larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets’ clang?
And do you tell me of a woman’s tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer’s fire ?
Tush, tush—fear boys with bugs.
GRUMIOFor he fears none.
GREMIOHortensio, hark.
This gentleman is happily arrived,
My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.
HORTENSIOI promised we would be contributors,
And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe’er.
GREMIOAnd so we will, provided that he win her.
GRUMIOI would I were as sure of a good dinner.
(didascalia)Enter Tranio, brave, as Lucentio, and Biondello
TRANIOGentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold, tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way to the house of Signor Baptista Minola?
BIONDELLOHe that has the two fair daughters—is’t he you mean?
TRANIOEven he, Biondello.
GREMIOHark you, sir, you mean not her to—
TRANIOPerhaps him and her, sir. What have you to do?
PETRUCCIONot her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
TRANIOI love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let’s away.
LUCENTIO(aside)
Well begun, Tranio.
HORTENSIOSir, a word ere you go.
Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of—yea or no?
TRANIOAnd if I be, sir, is it any offence?
GREMIONo, if without more words you will get you hence.
TRANIOWhy, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
For me as for you?
GREMIOBut so is not she.
TRANIOFor what reason, I beseech you?
GREMIOFor this reason, if you’ll know—
That she’s the choice love of Signor Gremio.
HORTENSIOThat she’s the chosen of Signor Hortensio.
TRANIOSoftly, my masters. If you be gentlemen,
Do me this right, hear me with patience.
Baptista is a noble gentleman
To whom my father is not all unknown,
And were his daughter fairer than she is
She may more suitors have, and me for one.
Fair Leda’s daughter had a thousand wooers;
Then well one more may fair Bianca have,
And so she shall. Lucentio shall make one,
Though Paris came, in hope to speed alone.
GREMIOWhat, this gentleman will out-talk us all!
LUCENTIOSir, give him head, I know he’ll prove a jade.
PETRUCCIOHortensio, to what end are all these words?
HORTENSIOSir, let me be so bold as ask you,
Did you yet ever see Baptista’s daughter?
TRANIONo, sir, but hear I do that he hath two,
The one as famous for a scolding tongue
As is the other for beauteous modesty.
PETRUCCIOSir, sir, the first’s for me. Let her go by.
GREMIOYea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more than Alcides’ twelve.
PETRUCCIOSir, understand you this of me in sooth,
The youngest daughter whom you hearken for
Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
And will not promise her to any man
Until the elder sister first be wed.
The younger then is free, and not before.
TRANIOIf it be so, sir, that you are the man
Must stead us all, and me amongst the rest,
And if you break the ice and do this feat,
Achieve the elder, set the younger free
For our access, whose hap shall be to have her
Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.
HORTENSIOSir, you say well, and well you do conceive;
And since you do profess to be a suitor
You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
To whom we all rest generally beholden.
TRANIOSir, I shall not be slack. In sign whereof,
Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
And quaff carouses to our mistress’ health,
And do as adversaries do in law—
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
GRUMIOand BIONDELLO
O excellent motion! Fellows, let’s be gone.
HORTENSIOThe motion’s good indeed, and be it so.
Petruccio, I shall be your ben venuto.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio e il suo servo, Grumio
PETRUCCIOVerona, per un poco prendo congedo da te
per veder gli amici miei a Padova; ma fra tutti
il mio più diletto e provato amico
Ortensio, e credo che questa sia la sua casa.
Qua, messer Grumio, bussa, ti dico.
GRUMIOBussare, signore? E chi dovrei bussare? C’è forse qualcuno che ha svilipeso vostra signoria?
PETRUCCIOFurfante, dico, bussami qui di buona lena.
GRUMIOBussarvi qui, signore? Ma come, signore, chi son io, signore, da bussarvi qui, signore?
PETRUCCIOFurfante, dico, bussami a questa porta,
e picchiami bene, o ti spacco la zucca da manigoldo.
GRUMIOIl mio padrone è divenuto rissoso. Dovrei picchiar voi
per primo,
e poi so ben io chi ne avrebbe la peggio.
PETRUCCIONon si fa dunque?
In fede, messere, se non vuoi bussare, suonerò io.
Proverò come sai solfeggiare e cantarla.
Lo strapazza per le orecchie. [Grumio s’inginocchia]
GRUMIOAiuto, signori, aiuto! Il mio padrone è impazzito.
PETRUCCIOOra bussa quando te lo comando, messer furfante.
(didascalia)Entra
PETRUCCIOOrtensio
ORTENSIOChe c’è dunque, che accade? Il mio vecchio amico Grumio e il mio buon amico Petruccio? Come state tutti a Verona?
PETRUCCIOSignor Ortensio, venite a separar la zuffa?
Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, posso dire.
ORTENSIOAlla nostra casa ben venuto, molto onorato signor mio Petruccio. Àlzati, Grumio, àlzati. Comporremo questa lite.
Grumio si alza
GRUMIONo, non importa, signore, quel ch’egli allega in latino. Se questa non è giusta causa perché io lasci il suo servizio—guardate, signore: mi ordinò di bussarlo e di batterlo di buona lena, signore. Bene, si conveniva che un servo trattasse così il suo padrone, che ha forse, per quel che vedo, trentadue anni e un punto di troppo? Volesse Dio che l’avessi ben bussato per primo, ché allora Grumio non ne avrebbe avuto la peggio.
PETRUCCIOUn furfante senza cervello. Buon Ortensio,
ordinai al furfante di bussare alla vostra porta,
e non riuscii per nulla al mondo a fargliela fare.
GRUMIOBussare alla porta? O cieli, non diceste chiare queste parole? «Messere, bussami qui, picchiami qui, bussami bene, e bussami di buona lena»? E ora mi venite fuori col bussare alla porta?
PETRUCCIOMessere, vattene, o taci, te lo consiglio.
ORTENSIOPetruccio, pazienza. Son io garante di Grumio.
Ma questo è un grave caso fra lui e voi,
il vostro antico, fido, piacevole servo Grumio.
E ditemi ora, dolce amico, qual vento propizio
vi soffia qui a Padova dalla vecchia Verona?
PETRUCCIOQuel vento che disperde i giovani pel mondo
a cercar fortuna più lungi che a casa,
dove poca esperienza cresce. Ma in breve,
signor Ortensio, così sta la cosa per me:
Antonio, mio padre, è morto,
e io mi son cacciato in questo labirinto
per prender moglie e prosperare come meglio potrò.
Corone ho nella borsa, e beni a casa,
e così son venuto fuori a veder il mondo.
ORTENSIOPetruccio, debbo dunque venirti franco al punto
e proporti una moglie bisbetica e mal fatta?
Poco mi ringrazieresti del mio consiglio,
eppure ti prometto ch’ella sarà ricca,
e ricchissima. Ma tu mi sei troppo amico,
e non voglio proportela.
PETRUCCIOSignor Ortensio, fra amici come noi
bastan poche parole; e però, se conosci
una tanto ricca da esser moglie di Petruccio—
ché la ricchezza è il ritornello della mia danza d’amore—
fosse ella brutta quanto l’amore di Florenzio,
vecchia quanto la Sibilla, e acida e bisbetica
quanto Santippe di Socrate, o peggio,
ella non mi smuove—o almeno non mi smussa
il filo dell’affetto, fosse pur ruvida
quanto i gonfi mari dell’Adriatico.
Vengo a prender moglie riccamente in Padova;
se riccamente, allora felicemente in Padova.
GRUMIO(a Ortensio) Ma guardate, signore, egli vi dice schietto qual è il suo pensiero. Ebbene, dategli oro a sufficienza e ammogliatelo con un fantoccio o con una bambolina da puntale, o con una vecchia befana senza un dente in bocca, avesse pur tante malattie quante ne hanno cinquantadue cavalli. Ebbene, nulla gli torna a male purché venga il denaro insieme.
ORTENSIOPetruccio, poiché ci siamo inoltrati tanto,
proseguirò ciò che avviai per scherzo.
Posso, Petruccio, procurarti una moglie
con ricchezza a bastanza, e giovane e bella,
allevata come meglio si conviene a gentildonna.
Il suo solo difetto—e quello vale per molti—
è ch’ella è intollerabilmente acida,
e bisbetica e ritrosa tanto oltre ogni misura
che, fosse il mio stato assai peggiore di quel ch’è,
non la sposerei per una miniera d’oro.
PETRUCCIOOrtensio, taci. Non conosci l’effetto dell’oro.
Dimmi il nome di suo padre e tanto basta,
ché l’abborderò per quanto ella strilli forte
come il tuono quando le nubi d’autunno si squarciano.
ORTENSIOSuo padre è Battista Minola,
gentiluomo affabile e cortese.
Il suo nome è Caterina Minola,
famosa in Padova per la sua lingua che sgrida.
PETRUCCIOConosco suo padre, benché non conosca lei,
ed egli conobbe bene il mio defunto padre.
Non dormirò, Ortensio, finché non l’avrò veduta,
e però permettete ch’io sia tanto ardito
da lasciarvi a questo primo incontro,
se non vorrete accompagnarmi colà.
GRUMIOVi prego, signore, lasciatelo andare finché dura l’umore. Sulla mia parola, se ella lo conoscesse bene come lo conosco io, penserebbe che lo sgridare gli gioverebbe ben poco. Potrà forse chiamarlo una diecina di volte manigoldo, o giù di lì. Ebbene, non è nulla; se lui comincia una volta, la investirà con le sue figure da capestro. Vi dico io, signore, se ella gli tien testa un poco soltanto, le scaglierà una figura in faccia e con quella la sfigurerà a tal punto ch’ella non avrà più occhi per vedere di quanti n’abbia un gatto. Voi non lo conoscete, signore.
ORTENSIOFermati, Petruccio, debbo venir con te,
ché nella custodia di Battista è il mio tesoro.
Egli tiene rinchiuso il gioiello della mia vita,
la sua figlia minore, la bella Bianca,
e la nega a me e ad altri ancora,
pretendenti di lei e rivali nel mio amore,
ritenendo cosa impossibile,
per quei difetti che ho poc’anzi elencati,
che mai Caterina sia corteggiata.
Perciò quest’ordine ha dato Battista:
che nessuno abbia accesso a Bianca
finché Caterina l’acida non abbia trovato marito.
GRUMIOCaterina l’acida—
fra tutti i titoli, per una fanciulla il peggiore.
ORTENSIOOr dunque il mio amico Petruccio mi farà grazia,
e mi offrirà, travestito in vesti sobrie,
al vecchio Battista come maestro
ben esperto in musica, per istruire Bianca,
sicché almeno con questo stratagemma
abbia licenza e agio di dichiararle il mio amore,
e insospettato corteggiarla a tu per tu.
(didascalia)Entrano Gremio con un foglio, e Lucentio travestito da maestro
GRUMIOQui non c’è mica furfanteria! Guardate, per ingannare i vecchi, come i giovani mettono insieme le teste. Padrone, padrone, guardatevi attorno. Chi va là, eh?
ORTENSIOZitto, Grumio, è il rivale del mio amore.
Petruccio, statevene in disparte un poco.
GRUMIOUn bel garzoncello, e innamorato per giunta!
Petruccio, Ortensio e Grumio si tirano da parte
GREMIO(a Lucentio)
Oh, molto bene—ho esaminato la nota.
Udite, signore, li voglio rilegati assai finemente—
tutti libri d’amore, badateci in ogni modo—
e badate di non leggerle altre lezioni.
Mi comprendete. Oltre e in più
della liberalità del signor Battista,
vi aggiungerò una mancia. Prendete anche la vostra carta,
e fatemeli profumare ben bene,
ché più dolce del profumo stesso è colei
a cui vanno. Che le leggerete?
LUCENTIOQualunque cosa io le legga, perorerò per voi
come per il mio patrono, statene pur certo,
con la stessa fermezza che se voi foste presente—
anzi, e forse con parole più efficaci
delle vostre, a meno che non foste un dotto, signore.
GREMIOOh questa dottrina, che gran cosa è mai!
GRUMIO(a parte)
Oh questa beccaccia, che gran asino è mai!
PETRUCCIOZitto, messere.
ORTENSIOGrumio, muto. (Facendosi avanti) Dio vi salvi, signor Gremio.
GREMIOE voi siate il ben trovato, signor Ortensio.
Indovinate dove sto andando?
Da Battista Minola.
Promisi d’informarmi con cura
d’un maestro per la bella Bianca,
e per buona fortuna mi son bene imbattuto
in questo giovane, che per dottrina e contegno
fa al caso suo, ben versato in poesia
e in altri libri—buoni, ve lo garantisco.
ORTENSIOSta bene, e io ho incontrato un gentiluomo
che m’ha promesso di procurarmene un altro,
un fine musicista, per istruire la nostra signora.
Così non resterò punto indietro nel dovere
verso la bella Bianca, da me tanto amata.
GREMIOAmata da me, e i miei atti lo proveranno.
GRUMIO(a parte) E i suoi sacchi lo proveranno.
ORTENSIOGremio, non è ora tempo di sfogare il nostro amore.
Ascoltatemi, e se mi parlerete cortese
vi dirò novelle egualmente buone per entrambi.
Ecco qui un gentiluomo che per caso ho incontrato,
il quale, su patti da noi a lui graditi,
s’impegnerà a corteggiare l’acida Caterina,
anzi, e a sposarla, se la dote gli piaccia.
GREMIODetto e fatto sta bene.
Ortensio, gli avete detto tutti i suoi difetti?
PETRUCCIOSo ch’ella è una brontolona molesta e rissosa.
Se è tutto qui, signori, non odo nulla di male.
GREMIONo? Mi dite così, amico? Di qual paese siete?
PETRUCCIONato a Verona, figlio del vecchio Antonio.
Morto mio padre, la sua fortuna vive per me,
e spero di veder giorni buoni e lunghi.
GREMIOOh signore, tal vita con tal moglie sarebbe strana.
Ma se ne avete lo stomaco, all’opera, in nome di Dio.
Mi avrete ad assistervi in tutto.
Ma davvero corteggerete questa gatta selvatica?
PETRUCCIOCom’è vero che vivo!
GRUMIOSe la corteggerà? Sì, o l’impicco io.
PETRUCCIOPerché son venuto qua se non a quel fine?
Credete che un piccolo strepito possa atterrire i miei orecchi?
Non ho udito ai miei tempi ruggire i leoni?
Non ho udito il mare, gonfiato dai venti,
infuriare come un cinghiale irato e madido di sudore?
Non ho udito le grosse artiglierie in campo,
e i cannoni del cielo tuonare nell’aria?
Non ho udito in una battaglia campale
alti allarmi, destrieri nitrenti e squilli di trombe?
E mi venite a parlare della lingua d’una donna,
che a udirla non dà colpo neppur la metà
di quel che dà una castagna nel fuoco d’un contadino?
Via, via—spaventate i fanciulli con gli spauracchi.
GRUMIOChé egli non ne teme alcuno.
GREMIOOrtensio, udite.
Questo gentiluomo è giunto a proposito,
il mio animo presume, per il suo bene e per il nostro.
ORTENSIOHo promesso che saremmo stati contribuenti,
e che avremmo sostenuto le sue spese di corteggiamento, quali che siano.
GREMIOE così faremo, purché egli la conquisti.
GRUMIOVorrei esser altrettanto sicuro d’un buon pranzo.
(didascalia)Entrano Tranio, in abito sfarzoso, come Lucentio, e Biondello
TRANIOSignori, Dio vi salvi. Se posso esser ardito, ditemi, ve ne scongiuro, qual è la via più spedita per la casa del signor Battista Minola?
BIONDELLOQuello che ha le due belle figlie—è lui che intendete?
TRANIOProprio lui, Biondello.
GREMIOUdite, signore, non vorrete mica lei per—
TRANIOForse lui e lei, signore. Che ve ne importa?
PETRUCCIONon quella che sgrida, signore, in nessun modo, vi prego.
TRANIONon amo le brontolone, signore. Biondello, andiamocene.
LUCENTIO(a parte)
Ben cominciato, Tranio.
ORTENSIOSignore, una parola prima che andiate.
Siete pretendente della fanciulla di cui parlate—sì o no?
TRANIOE se lo fossi, signore, sarebbe forse un’offesa?
GREMIONo, se senza altre parole ve n’andrete di qua.
TRANIOMa come, signore, di grazia, le strade non sono libere
per me quanto per voi?
GREMIOMa non lo è lei.
TRANIOPer qual ragione, ve ne scongiuro?
GREMIOPer questa ragione, se volete saperlo—
ch’ella è l’amore eletto del signor Gremio.
ORTENSIOCh’ella è la prescelta del signor Ortensio.
TRANIOPiano, signori miei. Se siete gentiluomini,
fatemi questa giustizia, ascoltatemi con pazienza.
Battista è un nobile gentiluomo
al quale mio padre non è del tutto ignoto,
e fosse sua figlia più bella di quel ch’è,
potrebbe aver più pretendenti, e me fra gli altri.
La bella figlia di Leda ebbe mille corteggiatori;
dunque ben uno di più può averne la bella Bianca,
e così sarà. Lucentio sarà uno di quelli,
venisse pur Paride, in speranza di riuscire solo.
GREMIOCome, questo gentiluomo ci supererà tutti nel parlare!
LUCENTIOSignore, lasciategli la briglia sul collo, so che si rivelerà un ronzino.
PETRUCCIOOrtensio, a che fine tutte queste parole?
ORTENSIOSignore, permettetemi d’esser tanto ardito da chiedervi:
avete mai veduto la figlia di Battista?
TRANIONo, signore, ma odo ben dire ch’egli ne ha due,
l’una tanto famosa per la lingua che sgrida
quanto l’altra per la bella modestia.
PETRUCCIOSignore, signore, la prima è per me. Lasciatela stare.
GREMIOSì, lasciate quella fatica al grande Ercole,
e sia essa più che le dodici d’Alcide.
PETRUCCIOSignore, intendete questo da me in verità:
la figlia minore per cui tendete l’orecchio
suo padre la tiene fuori d’ogni accesso di pretendenti,
e non la prometterà ad alcun uomo
finché la sorella maggiore non sia prima maritata.
Allora la minore è libera, e non prima.
TRANIOSe è così, signore, che voi siete l’uomo
che deve giovare a tutti noi, e a me fra gli altri,
e se romperete il ghiaccio e compirete quest’impresa,
conquistando la maggiore, e liberando la minore
al nostro accesso, colui cui toccherà la sorte d’averla
non sarà così privo di grazia da esser ingrato.
ORTENSIOSignore, dite bene, e bene concepite;
e poiché vi professate pretendente,
dovete, come noi facciamo, gratificare questo gentiluomo,
al quale tutti restiamo generalmente obbligati.
TRANIOSignore, non sarò tardo. In segno di ciò,
se vi piace, passiamo insieme questo pomeriggio,
e tracanniamo brindisi alla salute della nostra signora,
e facciamo come gli avversari in tribunale—
lottare con vigore, ma mangiare e bere da amici.
GRUMIOe BIONDELLO
Oh eccellente proposta! Compagni, andiamo.
ORTENSIOLa proposta è davvero buona, e così sia.
Petruccio, io sarò il vostro ben venuto.
(didascalia)Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Katherina and Bianca, her hands bound
BIANCAGood sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me.
That I disdain, but for these other goods,
Unbind my hands, I’ll pull them off myself,
Yea, all my raiment to my petticoat,
Or what you will command me will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.
KATHERINEOf all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
Whom thou lov’st best. See thou dissemble not.
BIANCABelieve me, sister, of all the men alive
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
KATHERINEMinion, thou liest. Is’t not Hortensio?
BIANCAIf you affect him, sister, here I swear
I’ll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
KATHERINEO then, belike you fancy riches more.
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
BIANCAIs it for him you do envy me so?
Nay, then, you jest, and now I well perceive
You have but jested with me all this while.
I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
KATHERINE(strikes her)
If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
(didascalia)Enter
KATHERINEBaptista
BAPTISTAWhy, how now, dame, whence grows this insolence?
Bianca, stand aside.—Poor girl, she weeps.—
Go ply thy needle, meddle not with her.
(To Katherine) For shame, thou hilding of a devilish
spirit,
Why dost thou wrong her that did ne’er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
KATHERINEHer silence flouts me, and I’ll be revenged.
She flies after Bianca
BAPTISTAWhat, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca
KATHERINEWhat, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband.
I must dance barefoot on her wedding day,
And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
Talk not to me. I will go sit and weep
Till I can find occasion of revenge.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTAWas ever gentleman thus grieved as I?
But who comes here?
(didascalia)Enter Gremio, Lucentio as a schoolmaster in the
BAPTISTAhabit of a mean man, Petruccio with Hortensio as a

musician, Tranio as Lucentio, with Biondello his
boy bearing a lute and books
GREMIOGood morrow, neighbour Baptista.
BAPTISTAGood morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen.
PETRUCCIOAnd you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter
Called Katherina, fair and virtuous?
BAPTISTAI have a daughter, sir, called Katherina.
GREMIOYou are too blunt. Go to it orderly.
PETRUCCIOYou wrong me, Signor Gremio. Give me leave.
(To Baptista) I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
(didascalia)Within your house to make mine eye the witness
PETRUCCIOOf 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.
BAPTISTAYou’re welcome, sir, and he for your good sake.
But for my daughter, Katherine, this I know:
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
PETRUCCIOI see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my company.
BAPTISTAMistake me not, I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
PETRUCCIOPetruccio is my name, Antonio’s son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.
BAPTISTAI know him well. You are welcome for his sake.
GREMIOSaving your tale, Petruccio, I pray
Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
Baccare, you are marvellous forward.
PETRUCCIOO pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain be doing.
GREMIOI doubt it not, sir. But you will curse your wooing. (To Baptista) 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, 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.
BAPTISTAA thousand thanks, Signor Gremio. Welcome, good Cambio. (To Tranio) But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger. May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
TRANIOPardon 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
I 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.
BAPTISTALucentio is your name—of whence, I pray?
TRANIOOf Pisa, sir, son to Vincentio.
BAPTISTAA mighty man of Pisa. By report
I know him well. You are very welcome, sir.
(To Hortensio) Take you the lute, (to Lucentio) and you
the set of books.
You shall go see your pupils presently.
Holla, within!
(didascalia)Enter a Servant
BAPTISTASirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my daughters, and tell them both
These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.
(didascalia)Exit Servant with Lucentio and Hortensio,
BAPTISTA[Biondello following]
(To Petruccio) We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner. You are passing welcome—
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
PETRUCCIOSignor Baptista, my business asketh haste,
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 bettered rather than decreased.
Then tell me, if I get your daughter’s love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
BAPTISTAAfter my death the one half of my lands,
And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
PETRUCCIOAnd 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.
BAPTISTAAy, when the special thing is well obtained—
That is her love, for that is all in all.
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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.
BAPTISTAWell mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed.
But be thou armed for some unhappy words.
PETRUCCIOAy, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
That shakes not though they blow perpetually.
(didascalia)Enter Hortensio with his head broke
BAPTISTAHow now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?
HORTENSIOFor fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
BAPTISTAWhat, will my daughter prove a good musician?
HORTENSIOI think she’ll sooner prove a soldier.
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
BAPTISTAWhy then, thou canst not break her to the lute?
HORTENSIOWhy no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bowed 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 had she studied to misuse me so.
PETRUCCIONow, 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!
BAPTISTA(to Hortensio)
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.
Signor Petruccio, will you go with us,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you ?
PETRUCCIOI pray you, do.
(didascalia)Exeunt all but Petruccio
PETRUCCIOI’ll attend her here,
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 that she frown, I’ll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly washed 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 wed, I’ll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
But here she comes, and now, Petruccio, speak.
(didascalia)Enter Katherina
PETRUCCIOGood morrow, Kate, for that’s your name, I hear.
KATHERINEWell have you heard, but something hard of hearing.
They call me Katherine that do talk of me.
PETRUCCIOYou lie, in faith, for you are called 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 praised in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded—
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs—
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
KATHERINEMoved? In good time. Let him that moved you hither
Re-move you hence. I knew you at the first
You were a movable.
PETRUCCIOWhy, what’s a movable?
KATHERINEA joint-stool.
PETRUCCIOThou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
KATHERINEAsses are made to bear, and so are you.
PETRUCCIOWomen are made to bear, and so are you.
KATHERINENo such jade as you, if me you mean.
PETRUCCIOAlas, good Kate, I will not burden thee,
For knowing thee to be but young and light.
KATHERINEToo light for such a swain as you to catch,
And yet as heavy as my weight should be. 205
PETRUCCIOShould be?—should buzz.
KATHERINEWell ta’en, and like a buzzard.
PETRUCCIOO slow-winged turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
KATHERINEAy, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
PETRUCCIOCome, come, you wasp, i’faith you are too angry.
KATHERINEIf I be waspish, best beware my sting.
PETRUCCIOMy remedy is then to pluck it out.
KATHERINEAy, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PETRUCCIOWho knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
KATHERINEIn his tongue.
PETRUCCIOWhose tongue?
KATHERINEYours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
PETRUCCIOWhat, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
KATHERINEThat I’ll try.
She strikes him
PETRUCCIOI swear I’ll cuff you if you strike again.
KATHERINESo may you lose your arms.
If you strike me you are no gentleman,
And if no gentleman, why then, no arms.
PETRUCCIOA herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
KATHERINEWhat is your crest—a coxcomb?
PETRUCCIOA combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
KATHERINENo cock of mine. You crow too like a craven.
PETRUCCIONay, come, Kate, come. You must not look so sour.
KATHERINEIt is my fashion when I see a crab.
PETRUCCIOWhy, here’s no crab, and therefore look not sour.
KATHERINEThere is, there is.
PETRUCCIOThen show it me. 230
KATHERINEHad I a glass I would.
PETRUCCIOWhat, you mean my face?
KATHERINEWell aimed, of such a young one.
PETRUCCIONow, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
KATHERINEYet you are withered.
PETRUCCIO‘Tis with cares.
KATHERINEI care not.
PETRUCCIONay, hear you, Kate. In sooth, you scape not so. 235
KATHERINEI chafe you if I tarry. Let me go.
PETRUCCIONo, 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 springtime 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 sland’rous world ! Kate like the hazel twig
Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
As hazelnuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.
KATHERINEGo, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.
PETRUCCIODid 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.
KATHERINEWhere did you study all this goodly speech?
PETRUCCIOIt is extempore, from my mother-wit.
KATHERINEA witty mother, witless else her son.
PETRUCCIOAm I not wise?
KATHERINEYes, keep you warm.
PETRUCCIOMarry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, 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,
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio as
PETRUCCIOLucentio
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Here comes your father. Never make denial.
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
BAPTISTANow, Signor Petruccio, how speed you with my daughter? 276
PETRUCCIOHow but well, sir, how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAPTISTAWhy, how now, daughter Katherine—in your dumps?
KATHERINECall you me daughter? Now I promise you 280
You have showed a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half-lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
PETRUCCIOFather, ‘tis thus: yourself and all the world 285
That talked of her have talked 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, 290
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
And to conclude, we have ’greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding day.
KATHERINEI’ll see thee hanged on Sunday first.
GREMIOHark, Petruccio, she says she’ll see thee hanged first. 296
TRANIOIs this your speeding ? Nay then, goodnight our part.
PETRUCCIOBe patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself.
If she and I be pleased, what’s that to you?
Tis bargained ‘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 I
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 Katherine shall be fine.
BAPTISTAI know not what to say, but give me your hands.
God send you joy, Petruccio! ’Tis a match.
GREMIOand TRANIO
Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
PETRUCCIOFather, 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Petruccio and Katherine, severally
GREMIOWas ever match clapped up so suddenly?
BAPTISTAFaith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
TRANIO‘Twas a commodity lay fretting by you.
’Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
BAPTISTAThe gain I seek is quiet in the match.
GREMIONo 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.
TRANIOAnd I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
GREMIOYoungling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
TRANIOGreybeard, thy love doth freeze.
GREMIOBut thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back. ’Tis age that nourisheth.
TRANIOBut youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
BAPTISTAA
Content you, gentlemen. I will compound this strife.
’Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
That can assure my daughter greatest dower
Shall have my Bianca’s love.
Say, Signor Gremio, what can you assure her?
GREMIOFirst, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry.
In ivory coffers I have stuffed my crowns,
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions bossed with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needlework, 350
Pewter, and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion. 355
Myself am struck in years, I must confess,
And if I die tomorrow this is hers,
If whilst I live she will be only mine.
TRANIOThat ‘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,
(didascalia)Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
TRANIOOld Signor Gremio has in Padua,
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinched you, Signor Gremio?
GREMIOTwo 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 choked you with an argosy?
TRANIOGremio, ‘tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much whate’er thou off’rest next.
GREMIONay, I have offered 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.
TRANIOWhy then, the maid is mine from all the world.
By your firm promise Gremio is out-vied.
BAPTISTAI 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?
TRANIOThat’s but a cavil. He is old, I young.
GREMIOAnd may not young men die as well as old ?
BAPTISTAWell, gentlemen,
I am thus resolved. On Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katherine is to be married.
(To Tranio) Now, on the Sunday following shall
Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to Signor Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIOAdieu, good neighbour.
(didascalia)Exit Baptista
GREMIONow 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 ! I
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
(didascalia)Exit
TRANIOA vengeance on your crafty withered 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 supposed Lucentio
Must get a father called supposed 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Caterina e Bianca, con le mani legate
BIANCABuona sorella, non far torto a me né a te stessa
facendo di me una serva e una schiava.
Questo io sdegno; ma quanto a questi altri ornamenti,
slegami le mani: me li toglierò io stessa,
sì, tutte le mie vesti fino alla sottana,
o farò quel che mi comanderai,
tanto bene conosco il mio dovere verso i maggiori.
CATERINAFra tutti i tuoi pretendenti qui t’ingiungo di dire
chi ami di più. Bada di non fingere.
BIANCACredimi, sorella, fra tutti gli uomini viventi
non ho mai veduto quel volto singolare
che potessi prediligere più d’ogni altro.
CATERINASfacciatella, tu menti. Non è Ortensio?
BIANCASe lo amate, sorella, qui vi giuro
che perorerò io stessa per voi finché lo abbiate.
CATERINAOh, allora forse preferite le ricchezze.
Vorrete Gremio per mantenervi in bellezza.
BIANCAÈ per lui che tanto m’invidiate?
Ma no, voi scherzate, e ora bene m’avvedo
che avete scherzato con me tutto questo tempo.
Ti prego, sorella Cate, sciogli le mie mani.
CATERINA(la colpisce)
Se questo è scherzo, allora scherzo fu tutto il resto.
(didascalia)Entra
CATERINABattista
BATTISTAMa come, signora, donde nasce quest’insolenza?
Bianca, fatti da parte.—Povera figlia, piange.—
Va’ al tuo ago, non t’impacciare di lei.
(A Caterina) Vergogna, tu ronzino d’animo
diabolico,
perché fai torto a chi non ti fece mai torto?
Quando t’ha ella contrariata con una parola amara?
CATERINAIl suo silenzio mi schernisce, e mi vendicherò.
Si lancia dietro a Bianca
BATTISTACome, sotto i miei occhi? Bianca, rientra.
(didascalia)Esce Bianca
CATERINACome, non mi tollererete? Ma no, ora vedo:
ella è il vostro tesoro, ella deve aver marito.
Io dovrò danzare scalza il giorno delle sue nozze,
e per il vostro amore verso lei condur scimmie all’inferno.
Non mi parlate. Andrò a sedermi e a piangere
finché non trovi occasione di vendetta.
(didascalia)Esce
BATTISTAFu mai gentiluomo afflitto come me?
Ma chi viene qui?
(didascalia)Entrano Gremio, Lucentio da maestro nell’
BATTISTAabito d’un uomo umile, Petruccio con Ortensio da

musicista, Tranio come Lucentio, con Biondello suo
ragazzo che porta un liuto e dei libri
GREMIOBuon giorno, vicino Battista.
BATTISTABuon giorno, vicino Gremio. Dio vi salvi, signori.
PETRUCCIOE voi, buon signore. Di grazia, non avete una figlia
chiamata Caterina, bella e virtuosa?
BATTISTAHo una figlia, signore, chiamata Caterina.
GREMIOSiete troppo brusco. Andateci con ordine.
PETRUCCIOMi fate torto, signor Gremio. Lasciatemi dire.
(A Battista) Io sono un gentiluomo di Verona, signore,
il quale, udendo della sua bellezza e del suo ingegno,
della sua affabilità e ritrosa modestia,
delle sue mirabili qualità e del mite contegno,
ardisco mostrarmi ospite ardito
(didascalia)dentro la vostra casa per far del mio occhio il testimone
PETRUCCIOdi quella fama che tanto spesso ho udita,
e per entratura alla mia accoglienza
vi presento un uomo mio (presentando
Ortensio)

esperto in musica e nelle matematiche
per istruirla appieno in quelle scienze,
delle quali so ch’ella non è ignorante.
Accettatelo, o altrimenti mi fate torto.
Il suo nome è Licio, nato a Mantova.
BATTISTASiate il benvenuto, signore, ed egli per amor vostro.
Ma quanto a mia figlia Caterina, questo so:
ella non fa al caso vostro, tanto più il mio dolore.
PETRUCCIOVedo che non intendete separarvi da lei,
o altrimenti non vi aggrada la mia compagnia.
BATTISTANon fraintendetemi, parlo solo come trovo.
Di dove siete, signore? Come posso chiamarvi per nome?
PETRUCCIOPetruccio è il mio nome, figlio d’Antonio,
uomo ben noto per tutta l’Italia.
BATTISTALo conosco bene. Siate il benvenuto per amor suo.
GREMIOSalvo il vostro discorso, Petruccio, vi prego,
lasciate parlare anche noi poveri postulanti.
Baccare! siete mirabilmente sfrontato.
PETRUCCIOOh perdonatemi, signor Gremio, ho gran voglia di fare.
GREMIONon ne dubito, signore. Ma maledirete il vostro corteggiamento. (A Battista) Vicino, questo è un dono assai gradito, ne son certo. Per esprimere pari cortesia, io stesso, che vi sono stato più cortesemente obbligato d’ogni altro, vi dono liberamente questo giovane studioso (presentando Lucentio) che ha lungamente studiato a Reims, tanto esperto in greco, latino e altre lingue quanto l’altro in musica e matematica. Il suo nome è Cambio. Vi prego, accettatene il servizio.
BATTISTAMille grazie, signor Gremio. Benvenuto, buon Cambio. (A Tranio) Ma, gentil signore, mi pare che camminiate da forestiero. Posso esser tanto ardito da conoscer la causa della vostra venuta?
TRANIOPerdonatemi, signore, l’ardire è tutto mio,
che, essendo forestiero qui in questa città,
mi faccio pretendente di vostra figlia,
di Bianca, bella e virtuosa.
Né m’è ignota la vostra ferma risoluzione
quanto alla precedenza della sorella maggiore.
Questa sola libertà io richiedo:
che, conosciuta la mia parentela,
io possa aver benvenuto fra gli altri che corteggiano,
e libero accesso e favore come gli altri.
E per l’educazione delle vostre figlie
qui offro un semplice strumento,
e questo piccolo fardello di libri greci e latini.
Se li accettate, allora grande è il loro valore.
BATTISTALucentio è il vostro nome—di dove, di grazia?
TRANIODi Pisa, signore, figlio di Vincenzio.
BATTISTAUn uomo potente di Pisa. Per fama
lo conosco bene. Siate assai benvenuto, signore.
(A Ortensio) Prendete voi il liuto, (a Lucentio) e voi
la raccolta dei libri.
Andrete subito a veder le vostre allieve.
Olà, di dentro!
(didascalia)Entra un servo
BATTISTAMessere, conduci questi signori
alle mie figlie, e di’ loro a entrambe
che questi sono i loro precettori. Ordina che li trattino bene.
(didascalia)Esce il servo con Lucentio e Ortensio,
BATTISTA[Biondello che li segue]
(A Petruccio) Andremo a passeggiare un poco nel frutteto,
e poi a pranzo. Siete oltremodo benvenuto—
e così prego tutti voi di ritenervi.
PETRUCCIOSignor Battista, il mio affare chiede fretta,
e non posso venire ogni giorno a corteggiare.
Conoscevate bene mio padre, e in lui me,
lasciato unico erede di tutte le sue terre e beni,
che ho piuttosto migliorati che scemati.
Ditemi dunque: se ottengo l’amore di vostra figlia,
qual dote avrò con lei in moglie?
BATTISTADopo la mia morte la metà delle mie terre,
e in possesso immediato ventimila corone.
PETRUCCIOE per quella dote le assicurerò
il suo vedovile, ove ella mi sopravviva,
su tutte le mie terre e i miei affitti, quali si siano.
Si stendano dunque fra noi gli atti,
affinché i patti sian mantenuti d’ambo le parti.
BATTISTASì, quando la cosa speciale sia bene ottenuta—
cioè il suo amore, ché quello è tutto il tutto.
PETRUCCIOEbbene, questo è nulla, ché vi dico, padre,
io son perentorio quanto ella è d’animo superbo,
e dove due fuochi furiosi s’incontrano
consumano ciò che alimenta la loro furia.
Benché un piccolo fuoco cresca con poco vento,
pure raffiche estreme spengono fuoco e tutto.
Così io con lei, e così ella cede a me,
ché sono ruvido, e non corteggio come un bamboccio.
BATTISTABene tu possa corteggiare, e felice sia la tua riuscita.
Ma sii armato contro qualche parola infelice.
PETRUCCIOSì, a tutta prova, come le montagne lo sono contro i venti,
che non si scuotono benché soffino in perpetuo.
(didascalia)Entra Ortensio con la testa rotta
BATTISTAChe c’è, amico mio, perché sei così pallido?
ORTENSIOPer la paura, ve l’assicuro, se son pallido.
BATTISTAEbbene, riuscirà mia figlia una buona musicista?
ORTENSIOCredo che riuscirà piuttosto un soldato.
Il ferro può reggere con lei, ma mai i liuti.
BATTISTACome dunque, non riesci a domarla al liuto?
ORTENSIOMa no, ché è lei che ha rotto il liuto su di me.
Le dissi soltanto che sbagliava i tasti,
e le piegai la mano per insegnarle la diteggiatura,
quando, con animo impazientissimo e diabolico:
«Tasti li chiamate questi?» disse; «io ne farò
smanie»,
e con quella parola mi colpì sulla testa,
e la mia zucca s’aprì un varco per lo strumento,
e là rimasi attonito per un poco,
come alla gogna, guardando attraverso il liuto,
mentr’ella mi chiamava furfante, sonatore
e strimpellatore, con venti simili vili epiteti,
quasi avesse studiato per ingiuriarmi così.
PETRUCCIOOra, per il mondo, è una ragazza gagliarda!
L’amo dieci volte più di quanto mai l’amassi.
Oh, come agogno di far due chiacchiere con lei!
BATTISTA(a Ortensio)
Bene, venite con me, e non siate così sconcertato.
Proseguite le lezioni con la mia figlia minore.
È pronta a imparare, e grata dei buoni uffici.
Signor Petruccio, volete venire con noi,
o debbo mandarvi mia figlia Cate?
PETRUCCIOVe ne prego, fatelo.
(didascalia)Escono tutti tranne Petruccio
PETRUCCIOL’attenderò qui,
e la corteggerò con brio quando verrà.
Poniamo ch’ella inveisca: le dirò schietto
ch’ella canta dolce come un usignolo.
Poniamo che aggrotti le ciglia: dirò che appare limpida
come rose mattutine appena lavate di rugiada.
Poniamo che sia muta e non voglia dir parola:
allora loderò la sua volubilità,
e dirò ch’ella profferisce penetrante eloquenza.
Se mi dice di sgombrare, la ringrazierò
come se m’invitasse a starle accanto una settimana.
Se rifiuta di sposarsi, chiederò il giorno
in cui pubblicherò le bande, e quando ci sposeremo.
Ma ecco che viene, e ora, Petruccio, parla.
(didascalia)Entra Caterina
PETRUCCIOBuon giorno, Cate, ché questo è il vostro nome, odo.
CATERINABene avete udito, ma un po’ duro d’orecchio.
Mi chiamano Caterina quelli che parlan di me.
PETRUCCIOMentite, in fede, ché vi chiamano Cate schietta,
e Cate leggiadra, e talvolta Cate l’acida,
ma Cate, la più graziosa Cate della cristianità,
Cate di Casa Cate, mia Cate delicatissima—
ché le delizie son tutte delicate, e però «Cate»—
prendete questo da me, Cate della mia consolazione:
udendo lodar la tua mitezza in ogni città,
celebrar le tue virtù e cantar la tua bellezza
eppur non tanto a fondo quanto a te si conviene—
io stesso son mosso a chiederti in moglie.
CATERINAMosso? A buon tempo. Chi vi mosse fin qui
vi ri-muova di qua. Capii subito
che eravate un mobile.
PETRUCCIOMa come, cos’è un mobile?
CATERINAUno sgabello a incastro.
PETRUCCIOL’hai indovinata. Vieni, siediti su di me.
CATERINAGli asini son fatti per portare, e così voi.
PETRUCCIOLe donne son fatte per portare, e così voi.
CATERINANon ronzino come voi, se intendete me.
PETRUCCIOAhimè, buona Cate, non voglio gravarti,
sapendoti giovane e leggera.
CATERINATroppo leggera perché un bifolco come voi mi acchiappi,
e pure pesante quanto il mio peso dev’essere. 205
PETRUCCIODev’essere?—dev’esser ronzìo.
CATERINABen colto, e da vera poiana.
PETRUCCIOO tortora dall’ala lenta, ti prenderà una poiana?
CATERINASì, come tortora, come lui prende una poiana.
PETRUCCIOSuvvia, suvvia, vespa, in fede mia siete troppo irata.
CATERINASe son vespa, badate al mio pungiglione.
PETRUCCIOIl mio rimedio è dunque strapparlo via.
CATERINASì, se lo sciocco sapesse trovarlo dove sta.
PETRUCCIOChi non sa dove una vespa porta il pungiglione? Nella coda.
CATERINANella lingua.
PETRUCCIOLa lingua di chi?
CATERINALa vostra, se parlate di favole; e con ciò addio.
PETRUCCIOCome, con la mia lingua nella vostra coda? Ma no, tornate, buona Cate, sono un gentiluomo.
CATERINAQuesto lo proverò.
Lo colpisce
PETRUCCIOGiuro che vi schiaffeggerò se colpite ancora.
CATERINACosì potreste perdere le vostre armi.
Se mi colpite non siete un gentiluomo,
e se non gentiluomo, ebbene, niente armi.
PETRUCCIOUn araldo, Cate? Oh, iscrivimi nei tuoi registri.
CATERINAQual è il vostro cimiero—una cresta di gallo?
PETRUCCIOUn gallo senza cresta, purché Cate sia la mia gallina.
CATERINANon gallo mio. Cantate troppo da gallo codardo.
PETRUCCIOSuvvia, Cate, suvvia. Non dovete far viso così acido.
CATERINAÈ mia usanza quando vedo una mela selvatica.
PETRUCCIOMa qui non c’è mela selvatica, e però non fate viso acido.
CATERINAC’è, c’è.
PETRUCCIOAllora mostratemela. 230
CATERINAAvessi uno specchio, lo farei.
PETRUCCIOCome, intendete il mio viso?
CATERINABen mirato, per uno così giovane.
PETRUCCIOOra, per San Giorgio, son troppo giovane per voi.
CATERINAEppure siete avvizzito.
PETRUCCIOÈ per gli affanni.
CATERINANon me ne affanno.
PETRUCCIOMa no, udite, Cate. In verità, non la scampate così. 235
CATERINAV’irrito se mi trattengo. Lasciatemi andare.
PETRUCCIONo, niente affatto. Vi trovo oltremodo gentile.
Mi si disse che eravate ruvida, schiva e imbronciata,
e ora trovo che la fama è gran bugiarda,
ché tu sei piacevole, festosa, oltremodo cortese,
ma lenta nel parlare, e dolce come fiori di primavera.
Non sai aggrottar le ciglia. Non sai guardar di traverso,
né morderti il labbro, come fanno le ragazze adirate,
né provi piacere a esser contraria nel discorso,
ma con mitezza intrattieni i tuoi pretendenti,
con gentile conversare, dolce e affabile.
Perché il mondo racconta che Cate zoppica?
O mondo calunnioso! Cate, come il ramo di nocciolo,
è dritta e sottile, e bruna di colore
come le nocciole, e più dolce dei loro gherigli.
Oh lascia ch’io ti veda camminare. Tu non zoppichi.
CATERINAVa’, sciocco, e comanda a chi tieni al tuo servizio.
PETRUCCIOAdornò mai Diana un boschetto
come Cate questa camera col suo passo regale?
Oh, sii tu Diana, e sia lei Cate,
e allora sia Cate casta e Diana giocosa.
CATERINADove studiaste tutto questo bel discorso?
PETRUCCIOÈ improvvisato, dal mio ingegno naturale.
CATERINAIngegnosa la madre, altrimenti scemo il figlio.
PETRUCCIONon son forse savio?
CATERINASì, quanto basta a tenervi caldo.
PETRUCCIOPerbacco, tale è il mio intento, dolce Caterina, nel tuo letto.
E però, messa da parte tutta questa ciarla,
in termini chiari: vostro padre ha consentito
che voi siate mia moglie, la dote concordata,
e vogliate o non vogliate, io vi sposerò.
Ora, Cate, io son marito che fa al caso vostro,
ché per questa luce, per cui vedo la tua bellezza
la tua bellezza che mi fa amarti bene
tu non devi sposare uomo alcuno se non me,
(didascalia)Entrano Battista, Gremio e Tranio come
PETRUCCIOLucentio
ché io son quegli che è nato per domarti, Cate,
e ridurti da Cate selvatica a una Cate
docile come le altre Cate domestiche.
Ecco che viene vostro padre. Non negate mai.
Debbo e voglio aver Caterina in moglie.
BATTISTAEbbene, signor Petruccio, come riuscite con mia figlia? 276
PETRUCCIOCome se non bene, signore, come se non bene?
Sarebbe impossibile ch’io riuscissi male.
BATTISTAMa come, figlia Caterina—così cupa?
CATERINAMi chiamate figlia? Ora vi assicuro 280
che avete mostrato tenera cura paterna,
volendomi maritata a un mezzo pazzo,
un ribaldo scervellato e un bestemmiatore,
che pensa con giuramenti di cavarsela.
PETRUCCIOPadre, la cosa sta così: voi e tutto il mondo 285
che avete parlato di lei, ne avete parlato a torto.
Se è acida, è per accortezza,
ché non è ritrosa, ma modesta come la colomba.
Non è focosa, ma temperata come il mattino.
Per pazienza si mostrerà una seconda Griselda, 290
e una Lucrezia romana per castità.
E per concludere, ci siamo così bene accordati
che domenica sarà il giorno delle nozze.
CATERINATi vedrò impiccato domenica, piuttosto.
GREMIOUdite, Petruccio, dice che prima vi vedrà impiccato. 296
TRANIOÈ questa la vostra riuscita? Ma allora, buonanotte alla nostra parte.
PETRUCCIOPazienza, signori. La scelgo per me.
Se lei e io siamo contenti, che v’importa?
È pattuito fra noi due, quando siamo soli,
ch’ella si mostri pur sempre acida in compagnia.
Vi dico, è incredibile a credersi
quanto ella mi ami. Oh, la più dolce Cate!
Mi si appese al collo, e bacio su bacio
ne prodigò così fitti, giurando giuramento su giuramento,
che in un baleno mi conquistò al suo amore.
Oh, siete novizi. È uno spasso vedere
quanto mansueta, quando uomini e donne sono soli,
un povero rammollito possa render la più acida bisbetica.
Dammi la mano, Cate. Andrò a Venezia
a comprar vesti per il giorno delle nozze.
Provvedete al banchetto, padre, e invitate gli ospiti.
Farò sì che la mia Caterina sia elegante.
BATTISTANon so che dire, ma datemi le vostre mani.
Dio vi mandi gioia, Petruccio! È fatta.
GREMIOe TRANIO
Amen, diciamo noi. Saremo testimoni.
PETRUCCIOPadre, e moglie, e signori, addio.
Vado a Venezia. Domenica s’avvicina in fretta.
Avremo anelli, e cose, e begli abiti;
e baciami, Cate. Ci sposeremo domenica.
(didascalia)Escono Petruccio e Caterina, separatamente
GREMIOFu mai combinato un matrimonio così di botto?
BATTISTAIn fede, signori, ora faccio la parte del mercante,
e arrischio follemente in un mercato disperato.
TRANIOEra una merce che vi giaceva accanto a guastarsi.
Vi porterà guadagno, o perirà sui mari.
BATTISTAIl guadagno che cerco è la quiete nel partito.
GREMIONon c’è dubbio ch’egli abbia fatto una preda quieta.
Ma ora, Battista, veniamo alla vostra figlia minore.
Ora è il giorno che a lungo abbiamo atteso.
Io sono il vostro vicino, e fui il primo pretendente.
TRANIOE io son uno che ama Bianca più
di quanto parole possan testimoniare, o i vostri pensieri indovinare.
GREMIOGiovincello, non puoi amare così caramente come me.
TRANIOBarbagrigia, il tuo amore gela.
GREMIOMa il tuo frigge.
Saltimbanco, indietro. È l’età che nutre.
TRANIOMa è la gioventù che fiorisce agli occhi delle dame.
BATTISTAA
Acquietatevi, signori. Comporrò io questa contesa.
Sono i fatti che devono vincere il premio, e quello dei due
che possa assicurare a mia figlia la dote maggiore
avrà l’amore della mia Bianca.
Dite, signor Gremio, che potete assicurarle?
GREMIOPrimo, come sapete, la mia casa dentro la città
è riccamente fornita d’argenteria e d’oro,
bacini e brocche per lavarle le delicate mani;
i miei arazzi tutti di tappezzeria di Tiro.
In forzieri d’avorio ho stipato le mie corone,
in casse di cipresso le mie coperte d’arazzo,
vesti costose, padiglioni e baldacchini,
fine biancheria, cuscini turchi borchiati di perle,
frange d’oro di Venezia ricamate ad ago, 350
peltro, e ottone, e tutte le cose che appartengono
a casa o a governo di casa. Poi alla mia fattoria
ho cento vacche da latte al secchio,
centoventi grassi buoi ritti nelle mie stalle,
e ogni cosa corrispondente a questa dotazione. 355
Io stesso son carico d’anni, debbo confessarlo,
e se muoio domani questo è suo,
purché finché vivo ella sia soltanto mia.
TRANIOQuel «soltanto» è venuto bene a proposito. Signore, ascoltatemi.
Io sono l’erede e unico figlio di mio padre.
Se posso avere vostra figlia in moglie
le lascerò tre o quattro case buone quanto,
(didascalia)dentro le ricche mura di Pisa, quante mai
TRANIOil vecchio signor Gremio ne ha in Padova,
oltre a duemila ducati all’anno
di terra feconda, e tutto ciò sarà il suo vedovile.
Come, v’ho punto, signor Gremio?
GREMIODuemila ducati all’anno di terra—
la mia terra non ammonta a tanto in tutto.
Quello ella avrà; e inoltre una nave da carico
che ora giace nella rada di Marsiglia.
Come, v’ho soffocato con una nave da carico?
TRANIOGremio, si sa che mio padre non ha meno
di tre grandi navi da carico, oltre a due galeazze
e dodici galee ben salde. Queste le assicurerò,
e il doppio di qualunque cosa offrirai poi.
GREMIONo, ho offerto tutto. Non ho di più,
ed ella non può avere più di tutto ciò che ho.
Se vi aggrado, avrà me e il mio.
TRANIOEbbene allora la fanciulla è mia contro tutto il mondo.
Per vostra ferma promessa Gremio è superato nell’offerta.
BATTISTADebbo confessare che la vostra offerta è la migliore,
e purché vostro padre le faccia l’assicurazione,
ella è vostra. Altrimenti, dovete perdonarmi:
se voi moriste prima di lui, dov’è la sua dote?
TRANIOQuesto è un mero cavillo. Egli è vecchio, io giovane.
GREMIOE non possono i giovani morire bene quanto i vecchi?
BATTISTAEbbene, signori,
così son risoluto. Domenica prossima, lo sapete,
mia figlia Caterina si deve maritare.
(A Tranio) Ora, la domenica seguente
Bianca
sarà sposa a voi, se farete quest’assicurazione;
se no, al signor Gremio.
E così prendo congedo, e ringrazio entrambi.
GREMIOAddio, buon vicino.
(didascalia)Esce Battista
GREMIOOra non ti temo.
Messere, giovane giocatore, vostro padre sarebbe uno sciocco
a darti tutto, e nella sua età declinante
a metter piede sotto la tua tavola. Bah, una fandonia!
Una vecchia volpe italiana non è così cortese, ragazzo mio.
(didascalia)Esce
TRANIOUn accidente alla vostra astuta pelle avvizzita!
Pure l’ho affrontata con una carta da dieci.
Ho in capo di far del bene al mio padrone.
Non vedo ragione perché il preteso Lucentio
non debba procurarsi un padre detto il preteso Vincenzio—
e questa è una meraviglia; i padri comunemente
generano i loro figli, ma in questo caso di corteggiamento
un figlio genererà un padre, se non mi manca l’astuzia.
(didascalia)Esce

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Lucentio with books, as Cambio, Hortensio with a lute, as Licio, and Bianca
LUCENTIOFiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcomed you withal?
HORTENSIOBut, wrangling pedant, this Bianca 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.
LUCENTIOPreposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordained!
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.
HORTENSIOSirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCAWhy, 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.
(To Hortensio) Take you your instrument, play you the
whiles.
His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
HORTENSIOYou’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIOThat will be never. Tune your instrument.
Hortensio tunes his lute. Lucentio opens a book
BIANCAWhere left we last?
LUCENTIOHere, madam.
(Reads) ‘Hie ibat Simois, hie est Sigeia tellus, Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.’
BIANCAConstrue them.
LUCENTIO‘Hie 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.
HORTENSIOMadam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCALet’s hear. (Hortensio plays) O fie, the treble jars.
LUCENTIOSpit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Hortensio tunes his lute again
BIANCANow let me see if I can construe it. ‘Hic 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.
HORTENSIOMadam, ’tis now in tune.
LUCENTIOAll but the bass.
HORTENSIOThe bass is right, ’tis the base knave that jars.
(Aside) How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
Pedascule, I’ll watch you better yet.
BIANCA(to Lucentio)
In time I may believe; yet, I mistrust.
LUCENTIOMistrust it not, for sure Aeacides
Was Ajax, called so from his grandfather.
BIANCAI 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 master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO(to Lucentio)
You may go walk and give me leave awhile.
My lessons make no music in three parts.
LUCENTIOAre you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait.
(Aside) And watch withal, for but I be deceived
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIOMadam, before you touch the instrument
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.
He gives a paper
BIANCAWhy, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIOYet read the gamut of Hortensio.
BIANCA(reads)
‘Gam-ut I am, the ground of all accord, A—re—to plead Hortensio’s passion.
B—mi—Bianca, take him for thy lord, C—fa, ut—that loves with all affection.
D—so), re—one clef, two notes have I,
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.
(didascalia)Enter a Messenger
MESSENGERMistress, your father prays you leave your books
And help to dress your sister’s chamber up.
You know tomorrow is the wedding day.
BIANCAFarewell, sweet masters both. I must be gone.
LUCENTIOFaith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
(didascalia)Exeunt Bianca, Messenger, and Lucentio
HORTENSIOBut 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Lucentio con dei libri, come Cambio, Ortensio con un liuto, come Licio, e Bianca
LUCENTIOSonatore, trattenetevi. Diventate troppo ardito, signore.
Avete già dimenticato l’accoglienza
con cui sua sorella Caterina vi diede il benvenuto?
ORTENSIOMa, pedante rissoso, questa è Bianca,
la patrona della celeste armonia.
Concedetemi dunque d’aver la precedenza,
e quando avremo speso un’ora nella musica
la vostra lezione avrà agio d’altrettanto.
LUCENTIOAsino sconsiderato, che non leggesti mai tanto oltre
da saper la causa per cui la musica fu istituita!
Non fu forse per ristorare la mente dell’uomo
dopo i suoi studi o la sua consueta fatica?
Lasciatemi dunque leggere la filosofia,
e mentre io faccio pausa, servite la vostra armonia.
ORTENSIOMessere, non sopporterò queste tue bravate.
BIANCAMa signori, mi fate doppio torto
contendendovi ciò che sta nella mia scelta.
Non sono uno scolaretto da frusta nelle scuole.
Non sarò legata a ore né a tempi prefissi,
ma imparerò le mie lezioni come a me piace;
e per troncare ogni contesa, sediamoci qui.
(A Ortensio) Prendete voi il vostro strumento, sonate
frattanto.
La sua lezione sarà finita prima che abbiate accordato.
ORTENSIOLascerete la sua lezione quando sarò accordato?
LUCENTIOIl che non sarà mai. Accordate il vostro strumento.
Ortensio accorda il suo liuto. Lucentio apre un libro
BIANCADove ci fermammo l’ultima volta?
LUCENTIOQui, madonna.
(Legge) «Hie ibat Simois, hie est Sigeia tellus, Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.»
BIANCACostruitele.
LUCENTIO«Hie ibat», come vi dissi prima—«Simois», io sono Lucentio—«hic est», figlio di Vincenzio di Pisa—«Sigeia tellus», travestito così per ottenere il vostro amore—«hic steterat», e quel Lucentio che viene a corteggiare—«Priami», è il mio servo Tranio—«regia», che ne porta il contegno—«celsa senis», affinché possiamo ingannare il vecchio pantalone.
ORTENSIOMadonna, il mio strumento è accordato.
BIANCASentiamo. (Ortensio suona) Oh via, il cantino stona.
LUCENTIOSputate nel buco, amico, e accordate di nuovo.
Ortensio riaccorda il suo liuto
BIANCAOra vediamo se so costruirla io. «Hic ibat Simois», non vi conosco—«hic est Sigeia tellus», non mi fido di voi—«hic steterat Priami», badate che non ci oda—«regia», non presumete—«celsa senis», non disperate.
ORTENSIOMadonna, ora è accordato.
LUCENTIOTutto tranne il basso.
ORTENSIOIl basso è giusto, è il basso furfante che stona.
(A parte) Com’è focoso e ardito il nostro pedante!
Ora, sulla mia vita, il furfante corteggia il mio amore.
Pedascule, ti sorveglierò meglio ancora.
BIANCA(a Lucentio)
Col tempo potrò credere; pure, diffido.
LUCENTIONon ne diffidate, ché certo Eacide
era Aiace, così chiamato dal suo avo.
BIANCADebbo credere al mio maestro, altrimenti, ve l’assicuro,
starei ancora a disputare su quel dubbio.
Ma lasciamo stare. Ora, Licio, a voi.
Buon maestro, non ve n’abbiate a male, vi prego,
ch’io sia stata così scherzosa con voi entrambi.
ORTENSIO(a Lucentio)
Potete andare a passeggio e lasciarmi libero per un poco.
Le mie lezioni non fanno musica a tre parti.
LUCENTIOSiete così cerimonioso, signore? Bene, dovrò attendere.
(A parte) E sorvegliare per giunta, ché se non m’inganno
il nostro fine musicista si fa innamorato.
ORTENSIOMadonna, prima che tocchiate lo strumento
per apprendere l’ordine della mia diteggiatura,
debbo cominciare dai rudimenti dell’arte,
per insegnarvi la scala in modo più breve,
più piacevole, succoso ed efficace
di quanto sia stato insegnato da alcuno del mio mestiere;
ed eccola qui per iscritto, ben tracciata.
Le porge un foglio
BIANCAMa io ho superato la mia scala da un pezzo.
ORTENSIOLeggete tuttavia la scala di Ortensio.
BIANCA(legge)
«Gam-ut io sono, il fondamento d’ogni accordo, A—re—per perorare la passione di Ortensio.
B—mi—Bianca, prendilo per tuo signore, C—fa, ut—colui che ama con tutto l’affetto.
D—sol, re—una chiave, due note ho io,
E—la, mi—abbi pietà, o muoio.»
Chiamate questa una scala? Bah, non mi piace.
Le fogge antiche mi piacciono di più. Non son così schifiltosa
da cambiare regole vere per bizzarre invenzioni.
(didascalia)Entra un messaggero
MESSAGGEROSignora, vostro padre vi prega di lasciare i libri
e d’aiutare ad addobbare la camera di vostra sorella.
Sapete che domani è il giorno delle nozze.
BIANCAAddio, dolci maestri entrambi. Debbo andare.
LUCENTIOIn fede, signora, allora non ho motivo di restare.
(didascalia)Escono Bianca, il messaggero e Lucentio
ORTENSIOMa io ho motivo di spiare questo pedante.
Mi pare che abbia l’aria d’essere in amore.
Pure, se i tuoi pensieri, Bianca, son tanto vili
da gettare i tuoi occhi vaganti su ogni richiamo,
ti prenda chi vuole. Se una volta ti scopro errabonda,
Ortensio sarà pari con te cambiando.
(didascalia)Esce

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio as Lucentio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants
BAPTISTA(to Tranio)
Signor Lucentio, this is the ‘pointed day
That Katherine and Petruccio 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?
KATHERINENo shame but mine. I must forsooth be forced
To give my hand opposed against my heart
Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen, 10
Who wooed 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 them, and proclaim the banns,
Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed.
Now must the world point at poor Katherine
And say ‘Lo, there is mad Petruccio’s wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.’
TRANIOPatience, good Katherine, and Baptista, too.
Upon my life, Petruccio 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.
KATHERINEWould Katherine had never seen him, though.
(didascalia)Exit weeping
BAPTISTAGo, girl. I cannot blame thee now to weep.
For such an injury would vex a very saint,
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLOMaster, master, news—old news, and such news as you never heard of. 31
BAPTISTAIs it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLOWhy, is it not news to hear of Petruccio’s coming?
BAPTISTAIs he come? 35
BIONDELLOWhy, no, sir.
BAPTISTAWhat then?
BIONDELLOHe is coming.
BAPTISTAWhen will he be here?
BIONDELLOWhen he stands where I am and sees you there. 41
TRANIOBut say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLOWhy, Petruccio 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 armoury with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points, his horse hipped, with an old mothy saddle and 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, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, weighed in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legged before and with a half-cheeked bit and a headstall of sheep’s leather which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst and now repaired with knots, one girth six times pieced, and a woman’s crupper of velour which hath two letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.
BAPTISTAWho comes with him?
BIONDELLOO 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.
TRANIO’Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparelled.
BAPTISTAI am glad he’s come, howsoe’er he comes.
BIONDELLOWhy, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTADidst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLOWho? That Petruccio came? 75
BAPTISTAAy, that Petruccio came.
BIONDELLONo, sir. I say his horse comes with him on his back.
BAPTISTAWhy, that’s all one.
BIONDELLONay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man
Is more than one,
And yet not many.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Grumio, fantastically dressed
PETRUCCIOCome, where be these gallants? Who’s at home?
BAPTISTAYou are welcome, sir.
PETRUCCIOAnd yet I come not well.
BAPTISTAAnd yet you halt not.
TRANIONot so well apparelled as I wish you were.
PETRUCCIOWere it not 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?
BAPTISTAWhy, 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 eyesore to our solemn festival.
TRANIOAnd tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detained you from your wife
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCCIOTedious 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.
TRANIOSee not your bride in these unreverent robes.
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCCIONot I, believe me. Thus I’ll visit her.
BAPTISTABut thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCCIOGood sooth, even thus. Therefore ha’ 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!
(didascalia)Exit With Grumiol
TRANIOHe hath some meaning in his mad attire.
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
[Exit with Gremio]
BAPTISTAI’ll after him, and see the event of this.
[Exeunt]

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Battista, Gremio, Tranio come Lucentio, Caterina, Bianca e altri, servitori
BATTISTA(a Tranio)
Signor Lucentio, questo è il giorno stabilito
in cui Caterina e Petruccio dovrebbero sposarsi,
eppure non udiamo nulla del nostro genero.
Che si dirà, che beffa sarà,
mancare lo sposo mentre il prete attende
di pronunciare i riti solenni del matrimonio?
Che dice Lucentio di questa nostra onta?
CATERINANessuna onta se non la mia. Devo, per forza,
dare la mia mano contro il mio cuore
a un pazzo screanzato pieno di bile, 10
che corteggiò in fretta e intende sposare con comodo.
Ve l’avevo detto, io, ch’era un frenetico folle,
che nasconde i suoi amari scherzi in rozzi modi;
e per essere segnalato come uomo allegro
ne corteggerà mille, fisserà il giorno delle nozze,
si farà amici, li inviterà, e proclamerà i bandi,
eppure non intende mai sposare là dove ha corteggiato.
Ora il mondo additerà la povera Caterina
e dirà: «Ecco, quella è la moglie del pazzo Petruccio,
se a lui piacesse venire e sposarla.»
TRANIOPazienza, buona Caterina, e anche voi, Battista.
Sulla mia vita, Petruccio non intende che il bene.
Qualunque sorte lo trattenga dalla sua parola,
benché sia rozzo, io lo so oltremodo saggio;
benché sia allegro, è pur tuttavia onesto.
CATERINAVorrei però che Caterina non l’avesse mai visto.
(didascalia)Esce piangendo
BATTISTAVa’, figliola. Non posso biasimarti ora se piangi.
Ché una tale offesa irriterebbe perfino un santo,
e molto più una bisbetica del tuo impaziente umore.
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
BIONDELLOPadrone, padrone, notizie—vecchie notizie, e notizie tali quali non ne udiste mai. 31
BATTISTASono nuove e insieme vecchie? Come può essere?
BIONDELLOEbbene, non è forse una notizia udire dell’arrivo di Petruccio?
BATTISTAÈ arrivato? 35
BIONDELLOMa no, signore.
BATTISTAE allora che cosa?
BIONDELLOSta arrivando.
BATTISTAQuando sarà qui?
BIONDELLOQuando starà dove sto io e vi vedrà là. 41
TRANIOMa dimmi, che ne è delle tue vecchie notizie?
BIONDELLOEbbene, Petruccio viene con un cappello nuovo e un giubbetto vecchio, un paio di brache vecchie rivoltate tre volte, un paio di stivali che son serviti da portacandele, uno affibbiato, l’altro allacciato, una vecchia spada arrugginita presa dall’armeria della città con l’elsa rotta e senza puntale, con due cinghie spezzate; il suo cavallo sciancato, con una vecchia sella tarlata e staffe che non son parenti tra loro; per giunta preso dal moccio e prossimo a imputridire nella spina, travagliato dal barbone, infetto dai bolsi, pieno di gonfiori ai garretti, rovinato dagli spavani, sfregiato dall’itterizia, inguaribile dalle glandole, del tutto guasto dal capostorno, roso dai vermi, sbilenco nella schiena e spallato, storto di gambe davanti, e con un morso a mezza guancia e una testiera di cuoio di pecora che, essendo tirata per impedirgli d’inciampare, s’è rotta spesso e ora è riparata con dei nodi; un sottopancia rappezzato sei volte, e una groppiera da donna di velluto che porta due lettere del suo nome ben disposte in borchie, e qua e là rattoppata con dello spago.
BATTISTAChi viene con lui?
BIONDELLOOh signore, il suo lacchè, bardato in tutto e per tutto come il cavallo, con una calza di lino a una gamba e un gambale di rascia all’altra, legati con una giarrettiera a liste rosse e turchine; un vecchio cappello, e l’umore delle quaranta fantasie infilzato dentro a mo’ di piuma—un mostro, un vero mostro nell’abbigliamento, e non già un paggio cristiano o il lacchè d’un gentiluomo.
TRANIOÈ qualche strano umore che lo punge a questa foggia;
eppure spesso egli va vestito assai dimesso.
BATTISTASon lieto ch’egli sia venuto, comunque venga.
BIONDELLOMa signore, egli non viene.
BATTISTANon hai detto tu che viene?
BIONDELLOChi? Che Petruccio è venuto? 75
BATTISTASì, che Petruccio è venuto.
BIONDELLONo, signore. Io dico che il suo cavallo viene con lui sulla schiena.
BATTISTAMa è tutt’uno.
BIONDELLONossignore, per San Giacomino, vi scommetto un soldo,
un cavallo e un uomo
son più d’uno,
e tuttavia non molti.
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio e Grumio, vestiti in modo stravagante
PETRUCCIOSu, dove sono questi galanti? Chi c’è in casa?
BATTISTASiate il benvenuto, signore.
PETRUCCIOEppure non vengo bene.
BATTISTAEppure non zoppicate.
TRANIONon così ben vestito come vorrei che foste.
PETRUCCIONon sarebbe meglio ch’io irrompessi così—
Ma dov’è Cate? Dov’è la mia leggiadra sposa?
Come sta mio padre? Signori, mi par che aggrottiate le ciglia.
E perché questa nobile compagnia mi fissa
come se vedesse un qualche prodigioso monumento,
una cometa o un insolito portento?
BATTISTAMa, signore, sapete che questo è il giorno delle vostre nozze.
Prima fummo tristi, temendo che non veniste;
ora più tristi che veniate così sprovvisto.
Via, spogliatevi di quest’abito, vergogna del vostro stato,
obbrobrio alla nostra solenne festa.
TRANIOE diteci quale occasione d’importanza
vi ha trattenuto così a lungo dalla vostra sposa
e vi ha mandato qui così diverso da voi stesso.
PETRUCCIOTedioso sarebbe raccontarlo, e aspro udirlo.
Basti ch’io sia venuto a mantenere la mia parola,
benché in qualche parte costretto a deviarne,
di che, con più agio, mi scuserò in modo
che ne sarete ben soddisfatti.
Ma dov’è Cate? Sto troppo a lungo lontano da lei.
Il mattino trascorre, è tempo che siamo in chiesa.
TRANIONon vedete la vostra sposa in queste vesti irriverenti.
Andate nella mia camera, indossate abiti miei.
PETRUCCIONon io, credetemi. Così andrò a trovarla.
BATTISTAMa così, confido, non la sposerete.
PETRUCCIOIn verità, proprio così. Perciò finiamola con le
parole.
A me ella è sposata, non ai miei abiti.
Potessi io riparare ciò ch’ella logorerà in me
come posso cambiare questi poveri arnesi,
sarebbe bene per Cate e meglio per me stesso.
Ma che sciocco son io a chiacchierare con voi
quando dovrei dare il buon giorno alla mia sposa
e sigillare il titolo con un amoroso bacio!
(didascalia)Esce con Grumio
TRANIOC’è qualche intenzione nel suo folle abbigliamento.
Lo persuaderemo, se sarà possibile,
a mettersene uno migliore prima d’andare in chiesa.
[Esce con Gremio]
BATTISTAGli andrò dietro, e vedrò l’esito di questo.
[Escono]

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)[Enter Lucentio as Cambio, and Tranio as Lucentio]
TRANIOBut, sir, to 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.
LUCENTIOWere it not that my fellow schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca’s steps so narrowly,
‘Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage,
Which once performed, let all the world say no,
I’ll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
TRANIOThat by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business.
We’ll overreach the greybeard Gremio,
The narrow-prying father Minola,
The quaint musician, amorous Licio,
All for my master’s sake, Lucentio.
(didascalia)Enter Gremio
TRANIOSignor Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIOAs willingly as e’er I came from school.
TRANIOAnd is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIOA bridegroom, say you? ’Tis a groom indeed—
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIOCurster than she? Why, ’tis impossible.
GREMIOWhy, he’s a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIOWhy, she’s a devil, a devil, the devil’s dam.
GREMIOTut, she’s a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I’ll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
‘Ay, by Gog’s woun’s,’ quoth he, and swore so loud
That all amazed the priest let fall the book,
And as he stooped again to take it up
This mad-brained 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.’
TRANIOWhat said the vicar when he rose again?
GREMIOTrembled and shook, forwhy he stamped 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; quaffed off the muscatel
And threw the sops all in the sexton’s face,
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seemed to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck
And kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the church did echo,
And I seeing this came thence for very shame,
And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
Such a mad marriage never was before.
(didascalia)Music plays
GREMIOHark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio as
GREMIOLicio, Baptista, Grumio, and others, attendants
PETRUCCIOGentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me today,
And have prepared great store of wedding cheer.
But so it is my haste doth call me hence,
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
BAPTISTAIs’t possible you will away tonight?
PETRUCCIOI must away today, 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.
TRANIOLet us entreat you stay till after dinner.
PETRUCCIOIt may not be.
GREMIOLet me entreat you.
PETRUCCIOIt cannot be.
KATHERINELet me entreat you.
PETRUCCIOI am content.
KATHERINEAre you content to stay?
PETRUCCIOI am content you shall entreat me stay,
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
KATHERINENow, if you love me, stay.
PETRUCCIOGrumio, my horse.
GRUMIOAy, sir, they be ready. The oats have eaten the horses.
KATHERINENay, then, do what thou canst, I will not go today,
No, nor tomorrow—not 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.
PETRUCCIOO Kate, content thee. Prithee, be not angry.
KATHERINEI will be angry. What hast thou to do?
Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure.
GREMIOAy, marry, sir. Now it begins to work.
KATHERINEGentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
I see a woman may be made a fool
If she had not a spirit to resist.
PETRUCCIOThey 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 anything,
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare.
I’ll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon, we are 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Petruccio, Katherine, and Grumio
BAPTISTANay, let them go-a couple of quiet ones!
GREMIOWent they not quickly I should die with laughing.
TRANIOOf all mad matches never was the like.
LUCENTIOMistress, what’s your opinion of your sister?
BIANCAThat being mad herself she’s madly mated.
GREMIOI warrant him, Petruccio is Kated.
BAPTISTANeighbours 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.
TRANIOShall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
BAPTISTAShe shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let’s go.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)[Entrano Lucentio come Cambio, e Tranio come Lucentio]
TRANIOMa, signore, all’amore ci conviene aggiungere
il gradimento di suo padre; e per ottenerlo,
come già esposi a Vostra Signoria,
debbo procurarmi un uomo—chiunque egli sia
poco importa, lo adatteremo al nostro scopo—
ed egli sarà Vincenzio di Pisa,
e darà qui in Padova garanzia
di somme maggiori di quelle ch’io ho promesso.
Così godrete tranquillamente la vostra speranza,
e sposerete la dolce Bianca col consenso.
LUCENTIOSe non fosse che il mio collega maestro
sorveglia i passi di Bianca così da presso,
sarebbe bene, mi pare, rubarci le nozze;
le quali, una volta celebrate, dica pure no tutto il mondo,
io terrò il mio, a dispetto di tutto il mondo.
TRANIOQuesto intendiamo esaminarlo a poco a poco,
e spiare il nostro vantaggio in questa faccenda.
Gabberemo il barbagrigia Gremio,
il ficcanaso padre Minola,
il lezioso musicista, l’amoroso Licio,
e tutto per amore del mio padrone, Lucentio.
(didascalia)Entra Gremio
TRANIOSignor Gremio, venite dalla chiesa?
GREMIOTanto volentieri quanto mai venni da scuola.
TRANIOE la sposa e lo sposo vengono a casa?
GREMIOUno sposo, dite? È davvero uno staffiere—
uno staffiere brontolone, e la ragazza se ne accorgerà.
TRANIOPiù bisbetico di lei? Ma è impossibile.
GREMIOMa via, è un diavolo, un diavolo, un vero demonio.
TRANIOMa via, lei è un diavolo, un diavolo, la madre del diavolo.
GREMIOBah, in confronto a lui ella è un agnello, una colomba, una stupidella.
Ve lo dirò, signor Lucentio: quando il prete
dovette chiedere se Caterina sarebbe stata sua moglie,
«Sì, per le piaghe di Dio!» diss’egli, e bestemmiò così forte
che il prete, tutto sbigottito, lasciò cadere il libro,
e mentre si chinava di nuovo a raccoglierlo
questo sposo scervellato gli diede un tale ceffone
che giù caddero prete e libro, e libro e prete.
«Ora raccoglieteli,» diss’egli, «chi ne ha voglia.»
TRANIOChe disse il vicario quando si rialzò?
GREMIOTremò e sussultò, ché quello pestava i piedi e bestemmiava
come se il vicario volesse gabbarlo.
Ma dopo compiute molte cerimonie
egli chiede del vino. «Un brindisi!» dice, come se
fosse stato a bordo, a gozzovigliare coi compagni
dopo una tempesta; tracannò il moscatello
e gettò tutte le zuppette in faccia al sagrestano,
non avendo altra ragione
se non che la sua barba cresceva rada e affamata
e pareva chiedergli le zuppette mentre beveva.
Fatto questo, prese la sposa per il collo
e le baciò le labbra con uno schiocco così clamoroso
che al distacco tutta la chiesa echeggiò;
e io, vedendo ciò, me ne venni via per pura vergogna,
e dietro a me, lo so, viene la brigata.
Non ci fu mai prima d’ora un matrimonio così folle.
(didascalia)Suona la musica
GREMIOUdite, udite, sento suonare i menestrelli.
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio, Caterina, Bianca, Ortensio come
GREMIOLicio, Battista, Grumio e altri, servitori
PETRUCCIOSignori e amici, vi ringrazio delle vostre cure.
So che pensate di pranzare oggi con me,
e avete preparato gran copia di leccornie nuziali.
Ma è tale la mia fretta che mi chiama via di qui,
e perciò intendo prender qui congedo.
BATTISTAÈ possibile che vogliate partire stasera?
PETRUCCIODebbo partire oggi, prima che venga la notte.
Non ve ne fate meraviglia. Se conosceste i miei affari,
mi preghereste piuttosto d’andare che di restare.
E, onesta compagnia, ringrazio tutti voi
che m’avete veduto donare me stesso
a questa pazientissima, dolce e virtuosa moglie.
Pranzate con mio padre, bevete alla mia salute,
ché io debbo andarmene; e addio a voi tutti.
TRANIOLasciate che vi preghiamo di restare fino a dopo il pranzo.
PETRUCCIONon può essere.
GREMIOLasciate che ve ne preghi io.
PETRUCCIONon si può.
CATERINALasciate che ve ne preghi io.
PETRUCCIOSon contento.
CATERINASiete contento di restare?
PETRUCCIOSon contento che mi preghiate di restare,
ma non già di restare, per quanto mi preghiate.
CATERINAOra, se mi amate, restate.
PETRUCCIOGrumio, il mio cavallo.
GRUMIOSì, signore, sono pronti. L’avena ha mangiato i cavalli.
CATERINAE allora fa’ quel che puoi, io non partirò oggi,
no, e neppure domani—non prima che a me piaccia.
La porta è aperta, signore, ecco la vostra strada.
Potete trottarvene finché i vostri stivali son freschi.
Quanto a me, non me n’andrò prima che a me piaccia.
Si direbbe che sarete un bello sposo scontroso,
voi che sin dal principio ve la prendete così di petto.
PETRUCCIOOh Cate, calmati. Ti prego, non t’adirare.
CATERINAVoglio adirarmi. Che hai tu da farci?
Padre, state quieto. Egli resterà a mio comodo.
GREMIOSì, per la Madonna, signore. Ora comincia a far effetto.
CATERINASignori, avanti, al pranzo di nozze.
Vedo che d’una donna si può fare una sciocca
se non avesse animo di resistere.
PETRUCCIOAndranno avanti, Cate, al tuo comando.
Obbedite alla sposa, voi che le fate corteo.
Andate al banchetto, gozzovigliate e spadroneggiate,
brindate a misura piena alla sua verginità.
Siate pazzi e allegri, o andate a impiccarvi.
Ma quanto alla mia bella Cate, ella deve venire con me.
No, non vi gonfiate, non pestate i piedi, non fissate, non v’inquietate.
Io sarò padrone di ciò che è mio.
Ella è la mia roba, la mia masserizia. Ella è la mia casa,
le mie suppellettili, il mio campo, il mio granaio,
il mio cavallo, il mio bue, il mio asino, il mio qualunque cosa,
ed eccola qui, la tocchi chi osa.
Intenterò la mia causa contro il più superbo
che mi sbarri la via in Padova. Grumio,
sfodera la tua arma, siamo assaliti dai ladri.
Soccorri la tua padrona, se sei un uomo.
Non temere, dolce fanciulla. Non ti toccheranno,
Cate.
Ti farò scudo contro un milione.
(didascalia)Escono Petruccio, Caterina e Grumio
BATTISTAMa sì, lasciateli andare—una bella coppia di quieti!
GREMIOSe non se ne fossero andati presto, sarei morto dal ridere.
TRANIODi tutti i folli connubi non ci fu mai il simile.
LUCENTIOSignora, qual è la vostra opinione su vostra sorella?
BIANCAChe, essendo pazza lei stessa, è pazzamente accoppiata.
GREMIOVe lo garantisco io, Petruccio è accaterinato.
BATTISTAVicini e amici, benché sposa e sposo
manchino
a occupare i posti a tavola,
sapete che non mancano leccornie al banchetto.
Lucentio, voi occuperete il posto dello sposo,
e Bianca prenda quello di sua sorella.
TRANIOLa dolce Bianca si eserciterà a far la sposa?
BATTISTALo farà, Lucentio. Venite, signori, andiamo.
(didascalia)Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Grumio
GRUMIOFie, 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! Hoa, Curtis!
(didascalia)Enter Curtis
CURTISWho is that calls so coldly?
GRUMlO 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!
CURTISIs my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
GRUMlO O ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire! Cast on no water.
CURTISIs she so hot a shrew as she’s reported?
GRUMlO 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.
CURTISAway, you three-inch fool. I am no beast.
GRUMIOAm 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.
CURTISI prithee, good Grumio, tell me—how goes the world?
GRUMIOA 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.
CURTISThere’s fire ready, and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
GRUMIOWhy, ‘Jack boy, ho boy!’, and as much news as wilt thou.
CURTISCome, you are so full of cony-catching.
GRUMIOWhy, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, the white stockings, and every officer his wedding garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, the carpets laid, and everything in order?
CURTISAll ready, and therefore, I pray thee, news.
GRUMIOFirst, know my horse is tired, my master and mistress fallen out.
CURTISHow?
GRUMIOOut of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby hangs a tale.
CURTISLet’s ha’t, good Grumio.
GRUMIOLend thine ear.
CURTISHere.
GRUMTO(cuffing him) There.
CURTISThis ’tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
GRUMlO And therefore ’tis called a sensible tale, and this cuff was but to knock at your ear and beseech listening. Now I begin. Inprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress.
CURTISBoth of one horse?
GRUMIOWhat’s that to thee?
CURTISWhy, a horse.
GRUMlO 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.
CURTISBy this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
GRUMIOAy, 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?
CURTISThey are.
GRUMIOCall them forth.
CURTIS(calling) Do you hear, ho? You must meet my master to countenance my mistress.
GRUMIOWhy, she hath a face of her own.
CURTISWho knows not that?
GRUMIOThou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
CURTISI call them forth to credit her.
(didascalia)Enter four or five servingmen
GRUMIOWhy, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
NATHANIELWelcome home, Grumio!
PHILIPHow now, Grumio?
JOSEPHWhat, Grumio?
NICHOLASFellow Grumio!
NATHANIELHow now, old lad!
GRUMIOWelcome you, how now you, what you, fellow you, and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready and all things neat?
NATHANIELAll things is ready. How near is our master?
GRUMIOE’en at hand, alighted by this, and therefore be not—Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Katherine
PETRUCCIOWhere be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
ALL SERVANTSHere, here sir, here sir.
PETRUCCIOHere sir, here sir, here sir, here sir!
You logger-headed and unpolished grooms,
What! No attendance! No regard! No duty!
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
GRUMIOHere, sir, as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCCIOYou peasant swain, you whoreson, malthorse drudge,
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRUMIONathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel’s pumps were all unpinked i‘th’ 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.
PETRUCCIOGo, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
(didascalia)Exeunt servants
PETRUCCIO(Sings)
‘Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those—’
Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud.
(didascalia)Enter servants with supper
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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 gray,
As he forth walked on his way.’
Out, you rogue, you pluck my foot awry.
(Kicking a servant) Take that, and mend the plucking of the other.
Be merry, Kate. (Calling) Some water, here. What, hoa!
(didascalia)Enter one with water
PETRUCCIOWhere’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.
(Calling) Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
[A servant drops water]
You whoreson villain, will you let it fall?
KATHERINEPatience, I pray you, ‘twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCCIOA whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-eared knave. Come, Kate, sit down, I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I? 145 What’s this—mutton?
FIRST SERVINGMANAy.
PETRUCCIOWho brought it?
PETERI.
PETRUCCIO’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, (throwing food) take it to you, trenchers, cups,
and all,
You heedless jolt-heads and unmannered slaves.
What, do you grumble? I’ll be with you straight.
He chases the servants away
KATHERINEI pray you, husband, be not so disquiet.
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCCIOI 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 overroasted flesh.
Be patient, tomorrow’t shall be mended,
And for this night we’ll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt
(didascalia)Enter servants severally
NATHANIELPeter, didst ever see the like?
PETERHe kills her in her own humour.
(didascalia)Enter Curtis, a servant
GRUMIOWhere is he?
CURTISIn 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio
PETRUCCIOThus 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 ate no meat today, nor none shall eat.
Last night she slept not, nor tonight 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 reverent 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entra Grumio
GRUMIOMalanno, malanno a tutti i ronzini stanchi, a tutti i padroni pazzi e a tutte le strade fangose. Fu mai uomo così bastonato? Fu mai uomo così inzaccherato? Fu mai uomo così stanco? Sono mandato avanti a fare il fuoco, e loro vengono dietro a scaldarsi. Ora, se non fossi una pentola piccola e presto calda, le labbra mi si gelerebbero ai denti, la lingua al palato, il cuore nel ventre prima ch’io trovassi un fuoco per sgelarmi. Ma io, soffiando sul fuoco, mi scalderò, ché, visto il tempo, un uomo più alto di me prenderebbe freddo. Ehilà! Ohé, Curtis!
(didascalia)Entra Curtis
CURTISChi è che chiama così freddamente?
GRUMIO Un pezzo di ghiaccio. Se ne dubiti, puoi scivolare dalla mia spalla al mio tallone senz’altra rincorsa che la mia testa e il mio collo. Un fuoco, buon Curtis!
CURTISVengono il mio padrone e sua moglie, Grumio?
GRUMIO Oh sì, Curtis, sì, e perciò fuoco, fuoco! Non gettarci acqua.
CURTISÈ una bisbetica tanto focosa quanto la si dice?
GRUMIO Lo era, buon Curtis, prima di questo gelo; ma tu sai che l’inverno doma l’uomo, la donna e la bestia, ché ha domato il mio vecchio padrone, e la mia nuova padrona, e me stesso, compagno Curtis.
CURTISVa’ via, sciocco alto tre pollici. Io non sono una bestia.
GRUMIOSono io alto solo tre pollici? Ma il tuo corno è lungo un piede, e tanto son lungo io, per lo meno. Ma vuoi farlo il fuoco, o dovrò lagnarmi di te con la nostra padrona, la cui mano—essendo ella ormai a portata di mano—sentirai presto a tuo freddo conforto, per essere stato lento nel tuo caldo ufficio.
CURTISTi prego, buon Grumio, dimmi—come va il mondo?
GRUMIOUn mondo freddo, Curtis, in ogni ufficio tranne il tuo. E perciò fuoco: fa’ il tuo dovere e avrai il tuo dovuto, ché il mio padrone e la mia padrona son quasi gelati a morte.
CURTISIl fuoco è pronto, e perciò, buon Grumio, le notizie.
GRUMIOEbbene, «Jack, ragazzo, ohé ragazzo!», e notizie quante ne vuoi.
CURTISAndiamo, sei tutto pieno di furberie da acchiappaconigli.
GRUMIOEbbene, e perciò fuoco, ché ho preso un freddo estremo. Dov’è il cuoco? È pronta la cena, la casa adorna, sparsi i giunchi, spazzate le ragnatele, i servitori nel loro fustagno nuovo e con le calze bianche, e ogni addetto col suo abito di nozze? Sono i boccali puliti dentro e le ragazze pulite fuori, stesi i tappeti, e ogni cosa in ordine?
CURTISTutto pronto, e perciò, ti prego, le notizie.
GRUMIOPrimo, sappi che il mio cavallo è stanco, e che il mio padrone e la mia padrona hanno litigato.
CURTISCome?
GRUMIOGiù dalle loro selle nel fango, e da ciò pende una storia.
CURTISFacci sentire, buon Grumio.
GRUMIOPorgi l’orecchio.
CURTISEccolo.
GRUMTO(dandogli uno scapaccione) Ecco.
CURTISQuesto è sentire una storia, non udire una storia.
GRUMIO E perciò si chiama una storia sensibile; e questo scapaccione non era che per bussare al tuo orecchio e implorare ascolto. Ora comincio. Inprimis, scendevamo per una brutta collina, il mio padrone in sella dietro la mia padrona.
CURTISTutt’e due su un solo cavallo?
GRUMIOChe te ne importa?
CURTISEbbene, un cavallo.
GRUMIO Raccontala tu la storia. Ma se non m’avessi interrotto avresti udito come il suo cavallo cadde e lei sotto il suo cavallo; avresti udito in che luogo fangoso, come fu inzaccherata, come lui la lasciò col cavallo addosso, come bastonò me perché il suo cavallo era inciampato, come lei guadò il fango per strapparmelo di dosso, come lui bestemmiò, come lei pregò, lei che non aveva mai pregato prima, come io gridai, come i cavalli scapparono, come la sua briglia si ruppe, come io persi la groppiera, con molte cose degne di memoria che ora morranno nell’oblio, e tu tornerai inesperto alla tua tomba.
CURTISA questo conto egli è più bisbetico di lei.
GRUMIOSì, e questo lo scoprirete tu e il più superbo di voi tutti quando egli tornerà a casa. Ma che sto a parlarne? Chiama fuori Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop e gli altri. Che abbiano le teste ben lisciate e pettinate, le casacche azzurre spazzolate e le giarrettiere d’una maglia decente. Che facciano la riverenza con la gamba sinistra e non osino toccare un pelo della coda del cavallo del mio padrone prima d’essersi baciate le mani. Sono tutti pronti?
CURTISLo sono.
GRUMIOChiamali fuori.
CURTIS(chiamando) Ehi, mi sentite? Dovete andare incontro al mio padrone per far volto alla mia padrona.
GRUMIOMa via, ella ha un volto suo.
CURTISChi non lo sa?
GRUMIOTu, a quanto pare, che chiami gente per farle da volto.
CURTISIo li chiamo fuori per farle credito.
(didascalia)Entrano quattro o cinque servitori
GRUMIOMa via, ella non viene a farsi prestare nulla da loro.
NATHANIELBentornato a casa, Grumio!
PHILIPEbbene, Grumio?
JOSEPHCome, Grumio?
NICHOLASCompagno Grumio!
NATHANIELEbbene, vecchio mio!
GRUMIOBenvenuto a te, ebbene a te, come a te, compagno a te, e basta così per i saluti. Ora, miei attillati compagni, è tutto pronto e ogni cosa in ordine?
NATHANIELOgni cosa è pronta. Quanto è vicino il nostro padrone?
GRUMIOProprio a portata di mano, ormai smontato, e perciò non state—per la passione di Dio, silenzio! Sento il mio padrone.
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio e Caterina
PETRUCCIODove sono questi furfanti? Come, nessuno alla porta
a reggermi la staffa o a prendere il mio cavallo?
Dov’è Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
TUTTI I SERVIQui, qui signore, qui signore.
PETRUCCIOQui signore, qui signore, qui signore, qui signore!
Voi stallieri zucconi e sgrossati,
Come! Nessun servizio! Nessun riguardo! Nessun dovere!
Dov’è quello sciocco furfante che ho mandato avanti?
GRUMIOQui, signore, sciocco come lo ero prima.
PETRUCCIOVillano zoticone, figlio di puttana, bestia da malto,
non ti dissi d’incontrarmi nel parco
e di condurre con te questi furfanti mascalzoni?
GRUMIOLa casacca di Nathaniel, signore, non era finita del tutto,
e le scarpe di Gabriel erano senza traforo al tacco.
Non c’era torcia per annerire il cappello di Peter,
e il pugnale di Walter non era tornato dal guainaio.
Nessuno era in ordine se non Adam, Ralph e Gregory.
Gli altri erano cenciosi, vecchi e pezzenti.
Pure, tali quali sono, eccoli venuti a incontrarvi.
PETRUCCIOAndate, mascalzoni, andate a portar dentro la mia cena.
(didascalia)Escono i servi
PETRUCCIO(Canta)
«Dov’è la vita che poc’anzi menavo?
Dove son quelli—»
Siedi, Cate, e benvenuta. Sud, sud, sud, sud.
(didascalia)Entrano i servi con la cena
PETRUCCIOEbbene, quando, dico?—Ma no, buona dolce Cate, sii allegra.—
Via i miei stivali, canaglie, furfanti. Quando?
(Canta)
«Era il frate dell’ordine grigio,
mentre se n’andava per la sua via.»
Via, canaglia, mi storci il piede.
(Dando un calcio a un servo) Prendi questo, e sfila meglio l’altro.
Sii allegra, Cate. (Chiamando) Dell’acqua, qui. Ehi, ohé!
(didascalia)Entra uno con dell’acqua
PETRUCCIODov’è il mio spaniel Troilus? Messere, andatevene,
e dite a mio cugino Ferdinando di venir qua—
uno, Cate, che dovrai baciare e conoscere.
(Chiamando) Dove sono le mie pantofole? L’avrò un po’ d’acqua?
Vieni, Cate, e lavati, e sii di cuore benvenuta.
[Un servo lascia cadere l’acqua]
Furfante figlio di puttana, la lasci cadere?
CATERINAPazienza, vi prego, è stato un fallo involontario.
PETRUCCIOUn furfante figlio di puttana, testa di scarafaggio, orecchie a sventola. Vieni, Cate, siediti, so che hai appetito. Vuoi render grazie tu, dolce Cate, o le renderò io? 145 Che è questo—montone?
PRIMO SERVITORESì.
PETRUCCIOChi l’ha portato?
PETERIo.
PETRUCCIOÈ bruciato, e così tutta la carne.
Che cani son questi? Dov’è quel cuoco mascalzone?
Come osaste, furfanti, portarlo dalla credenza
e servirlo così a me che non l’amo?
Ecco, (scagliando il cibo) prendetevelo, taglieri, coppe
e tutto,
sconsiderati zucconi e schiavi screanzati.
Come, brontolate? Sarò subito da voi.
Scaccia via i servi
CATERINAVi prego, marito, non siate così inquieto.
La carne andava bene, se voleste contentarvene.
PETRUCCIOTi dico, Cate, ch’era bruciata e riarsa,
e a me è espressamente vietato toccarla,
ché genera collera e pianta l’ira;
e meglio sarebbe che digiunassimo entrambi,
giacché di per noi stessi siamo collerici,
che nutrirla con carne così arrostita.
Sii paziente, domani vi si porrà rimedio,
e per questa notte digiuneremo in compagnia.
Vieni, ti condurrò alla tua camera nuziale. Escono
(didascalia)Entrano i servi separatamente
NATHANIELPeter, hai mai visto cosa simile?
PETERLa uccide col suo stesso umore.
(didascalia)Entra Curtis, un servo
GRUMIODov’è?
CURTISNella camera di lei,
a farle un sermone sulla continenza,
e inveisce, e bestemmia, e sgrida, sì che ella, povera anima,
non sa da che parte stare, guardare, parlare,
e siede come una appena destata da un sogno.
Via, via, ché sta venendo qua.
(didascalia)Escono
(didascalia)Entra Petruccio
PETRUCCIOCosì ho astutamente cominciato il mio regno,
ed è mia speranza di finire con successo.
Il mio falcone ora è aguzzo e affatto digiuno,
e finché non cali non dev’essere rimpinzato,
ché allora non guarderebbe più il suo logoro.
Ho un altro modo per ammansire la mia selvatica,
per farla venire e conoscere il richiamo del suo guardiano—
e cioè vegliarla come si vegliano quei nibbi
che sbattono le ali e si dibattono e non vogliono obbedire.
Oggi non ha mangiato carne, né ne mangerà.
La scorsa notte non ha dormito, né dormirà stanotte.
Come per la carne, troverò qualche fallo immeritato
nel modo in cui è fatto il letto;
e qui scaglierò il guanciale, là il capezzale,
di qua la coperta, di là le lenzuola;
sì, e in mezzo a questo trambusto pretenderò
che tutto sia fatto per riverente cura di lei.
E in conclusione ella veglierà tutta la notte,
e se per caso s’assopisce inveirò e strepiterò
e col clamore la terrò sempre desta.
Questo è un modo di uccidere una moglie con la gentilezza,
e così frenerò il suo folle e caparbio umore.
Chi sa meglio come domare una bisbetica,
parli ora. È carità insegnarlo.
(didascalia)Esce

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and Hortensio as Licio
TRANIOIs’t possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
HORTENSIOSir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. 5
They stand aside.
(didascalia)Enter Bianca, and Lucentio as Cambio
LUCENTIONow, mistress, profit you in what you read?
BIANCAWhat, master, read you? First resolve me that.
LUCENTIOI read that I profess, The Art to Love.
BIANCAAnd may you prove, sir, master of your art.
LUCENTIOWhile you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart. They stand aside
HORTENSIOQuick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray,
You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca
Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
TRANIOO despiteful love, unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
HORTENSIOMistake 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 called Hortensio.
TRANIOSignor 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.
HORTENSIOSee how they kiss and court. Signor Lucentio,
Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
Never to woo her more, but do forswear her
As one unworthy all the former favours
That I have fondly flattered her withal.
TRANIOAnd here I take the like unfeigned oath
Never to marry with her, though she would entreat.
Fie on her, see how beastly she doth court him!
HORTENSIOWould 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, Signor 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
TRANIOMistress 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.
BIANCATranio, you jest. But have you both forsworn me?
TRANIOMistress, we have.
LUCENTIOThen we are rid of Licio.
TRANIOI’faith, he’ll have a lusty widow now,
That shall be wooed and wedded in a day.
BIANCAGod give him joy.
TRANIOAy, and he’ll tame her.
BIANCAHe says so, Tranio.
TRANIOFaith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCAThe taming-school—what, is there such a place?
TRANIOAy, mistress, and Petruccio is the master,
That teacheth tricks eleven-and-twenty long
To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLOO, master, master, I have watched so long
That I am dog-weary, but at last I spied
An ancient angel coming down the hill
Will serve the turn.
TRANIOWhat is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLOMaster, a marcantant or a pedant,
I know not what, but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIOAnd what of him, Tranio?
TRANIOIf 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.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
(didascalia)Enter a Pedant
PEDANTGod save you, sir.
TRANIOAnd you, sir. You are welcome.
Travel you farre on, or are you at the farthest?
PEDANTSir, at the farthest for a week or two,
But then up farther and as far as Rome,
And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
TRANIOWhat countryman, I pray?
PEDANTOf Mantua.
TRANIOOf Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid,
And come to Padua careless of your life!
PEDANTMy life, sir? How, I pray? For that goes hard.
TRANIO‘Tis death for anyone in Mantua
To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stayed at Venice, and the Duke,
For private quarrel ’twixt your Duke and him,
Hath published and proclaimed it openly.
’Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaimed about.
PEDANTAlas, sir, it is worse for me than so,
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.
TRANIOWell, sir, to do you courtesy
This will I do, and this I will advise you.
First tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
PEDANTAy, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIOAmong them know you one Vincentio?
PEDANTI know him not, but I have heard of him,
A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIOHe is my father, sir, and sooth to say,
In count’nance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO(aside) As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
TRANIOTo 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 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.
PEDANTO sir, I do, and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIOThen go with me to make the matter good.
This, by the way, I let you understand—
My father is here looked 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

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Tranio come Lucentio, e Ortensio come Licio
TRANIOÈ possibile, amico Licio, che madamigella Bianca
prediliga altri che Lucentio?
Vi dico, signore, ch’ella mi tiene bellamente a bada.
ORTENSIOSignore, per convincervi di quel che ho detto,
state qui in disparte e osservate il modo del suo insegnare. 5
Si tirano da parte.
(didascalia)Entrano Bianca e Lucentio come Cambio
LUCENTIOOra, signora, traete profitto da ciò che leggete?
BIANCAChe cosa leggete, maestro? Prima risolvetemi questo.
LUCENTIOLeggo ciò che professo: L’Arte d’Amare.
BIANCAE possiate voi, signore, provarvi maestro nella vostra arte.
LUCENTIOMentre voi, dolce cara, vi provate padrona del mio cuore. Si tirano da parte
ORTENSIORapidi progressi, per la Madonna! Ora ditemi, di grazia,
voi che osavate giurare che la vostra signora Bianca
non amava nessuno al mondo tanto bene quanto Lucentio.
TRANIOOh dispettoso amore, incostante genere femminile!
Ti dico, Licio, questo è portentoso.
ORTENSIONon v’ingannate più, io non sono Licio,
né un musicista come sembro d’essere,
ma uno che sdegna di vivere in questo travestimento
per una che abbandona un gentiluomo
e fa un dio d’un tale pezzente.
Sappiate, signore, ch’io mi chiamo Ortensio.
TRANIOSignor Ortensio, ho spesso sentito parlare
del vostro intero affetto per Bianca;
e poiché i miei occhi son testimoni della sua leggerezza,
io con voi, se ne siete contento,
abiurerò Bianca e il suo amore per sempre.
ORTENSIOGuardate come si baciano e si corteggiano. Signor Lucentio,
ecco la mia mano, e qui fermamente giuro
di non corteggiarla mai più, anzi l’abiuro
come indegna di tutti i favori d’un tempo
coi quali follemente l’ho lusingata.
TRANIOE qui io faccio il medesimo giuramento non finto
di non sposarla mai, quand’anche me ne pregasse.
Vergogna su di lei, guardate come bestialmente lo corteggia!
ORTENSIOVolesse il cielo che tutto il mondo, salvo lui, l’avesse abiurata.
Quanto a me, perché io tenga sicuramente il mio giuramento,
sposerò una ricca vedova
prima che passino tre giorni, la quale m’ha amato tanto a lungo
quanto io ho amato questa superba, sdegnosa selvatica.
E così addio, signor Lucentio.
La gentilezza nelle donne, non i loro bei sembianti,
conquisterà il mio amore; e così prendo congedo,
fermo nel proposito come giurai poc’anzi. Esce
TRANIOMadamigella Bianca, vi benedica quella grazia
che s’addice al beato stato d’un amante.
Ma sì, v’ho colta sul fatto, gentile amore,
e insieme a Ortensio vi ho abiurata.
BIANCATranio, voi scherzate. Ma davvero m’avete abiurata entrambi?
TRANIOSì, signora, l’abbiamo fatto.
LUCENTIOAllora siamo liberi di Licio.
TRANIOIn fede mia, ora avrà una vedova gagliarda,
che sarà corteggiata e sposata in un solo giorno.
BIANCADio gliene dia gioia.
TRANIOSì, e la domerà.
BIANCACosì dice lui, Tranio.
TRANIOIn fede, è andato alla scuola del domare.
BIANCALa scuola del domare—come, esiste un luogo simile?
TRANIOSì, signora, e Petruccio ne è il maestro,
che insegna trucchi lunghi ventun punti
per domare una bisbetica e ammaliarle la lingua ciarliera.
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
BIONDELLOOh padrone, padrone, ho spiato così a lungo
che son stanco come un cane; ma alfine ho adocchiato
un vecchio galantuomo che scende dalla collina
e farà al caso nostro.
TRANIOChi è, Biondello?
BIONDELLOPadrone, un mercatante o un pedante,
non so bene che cosa, ma compassato nel vestire,
e nell’andatura e nel volto proprio simile a un padre.
LUCENTIOE che ne farai, Tranio?
TRANIOSe è credulo e presta fede al mio racconto,
lo farò contento di parere Vincenzio
e di dare garanzia a Battista Minola
come se fosse il vero Vincenzio.
Portate dentro il vostro amore, e poi lasciatemi solo.
(didascalia)Escono Lucentio e Bianca
(didascalia)Entra un Pedante
PEDANTEDio vi salvi, signore.
TRANIOE voi, signore. Siate il benvenuto.
Viaggiate ancora lontano, o siete al termine?
PEDANTESignore, al termine per una settimana o due,
ma poi più oltre, e fino a Roma,
e quindi a Tripoli, se Dio mi presta vita.
TRANIODi che paese, di grazia?
PEDANTEDi Mantova.
TRANIODi Mantova, signore? Per la Madonna, Dio non voglia,
e venire a Padova incurante della vostra vita!
PEDANTELa mia vita, signore? Come, di grazia? Ché la cosa è grave.
TRANIOÈ morte per chiunque di Mantova
venire a Padova. Non ne sapete la causa?
Le vostre navi sono trattenute a Venezia, e il Duca,
per una privata contesa fra il vostro Duca e lui,
l’ha pubblicato e proclamato apertamente.
È strano; ma poiché siete arrivato solo ora,
altrimenti l’avreste udito bandire dappertutto.
PEDANTEAhimè, signore, per me è anche peggio,
ché ho lettere di cambio per del denaro
da Firenze, e debbo consegnarle qui.
TRANIOEbbene, signore, per farvi cortesia
questo farò, e questo vi consiglierò.
Prima ditemi: siete mai stato a Pisa?
PEDANTESì, signore, a Pisa sono stato spesso,
Pisa rinomata per i suoi gravi cittadini.
TRANIOFra loro ne conoscete uno chiamato Vincenzio?
PEDANTENon lo conosco, ma ho udito parlare di lui,
un mercante d’incomparabile ricchezza.
TRANIOEgli è mio padre, signore, e a dir vero
nel sembiante egli vi somiglia alquanto.
BIONDELLO(a parte) Quanto una mela somiglia a un’ostrica, e fa lo stesso.
TRANIOPer salvarvi la vita in questo frangente
vi farò questo favore per amor suo;
e non stimatela la peggiore di tutte le vostre fortune
l’essere somigliante a messer Vincenzio.
Vi assumerete il suo nome e il suo credito,
e nella mia casa sarete amichevolmente alloggiato.
Badate di sostenere la parte come si conviene.
Mi capite, signore? Così potrete restare
finché non abbiate concluso i vostri affari in città.
Se questa è cortesia, signore, accettatela.
PEDANTEOh signore, l’accetto, e vi riterrò per sempre
il patrono della mia vita e della mia libertà.
TRANIOVenite dunque con me a mandar bene la cosa.
Questo, per via, vi faccio sapere—
mio padre è qui atteso ogni giorno
per stipulare la garanzia d’una dote in matrimonio
fra me e una figlia d’un certo Battista di qui.
Di tutte queste circostanze v’istruirò.
Venite con me a vestirvi come vi si conviene. Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Katherine and Grumio
GRUMIONo, no, forsooth. I dare not, for my life.
KATHERINEThe 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 alms,
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 oaths 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.
GRUMIOWhat say you to a neat’s foot?
KATHERINE‘Tis passing good. I prithee, let me have it.
GRUMIOI fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?
KATHERINEI like it well. Good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIOI cannot tell, I fear ’tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard?
KATHERINEA dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIOAy, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHERINEWhy then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIONay, then I will not. You shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHERINEThen both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
GRUMIOWhy then, the mustard without the beef.
KATHERINEGo, get thee gone, thou false, deluding slave,
(Beating 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.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio and Hortensio, with meat
PETRUCCIOHow fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
HORTENSIOMistress, what cheer?
KATHERINEFaith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCCIOPluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am
To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee. 40
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov’st it not,
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.
KATHERINEI pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCCIOThe poorest service is repaid with thanks,
And so shall mine before you touch the meat.
KATHERINEI thank you, sir.
HORTENSIOSignor Petruccio, fie, you are to blame.
Come, Mistress Kate, I’ll bear you company.
PETRUCCIO(aside)
Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov’st me.
(To Katherine) 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 farthingales, and things,
With scarves, 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.
(didascalia)Enter Tailor with a gown
PETRUCCIOCome, tailor, let us see these ornaments.
Lay forth the gown.
(didascalia)Enter Haberdasher with a cap
PETRUCCIOWhat news with you, sir?
HABERDASHERHere is the cap your worship did bespeak.
PETRUCCIOWhy, 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.
KATHERINEI’ll have no bigger. This doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
PETRUCCIOWhen you are gentle you shall have one, too,
And not till then.
HORTENSIO(aside) That will not be in haste.
KATHERINEWhy, 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.
PETRUCCIOWhy, thou sayst true. It is a paltry cap,
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie.
I love thee well in that thou lik’st it not.
KATHERINELove me or love me not, I like the cap
And it I will have, or I will have none.
[Exit Haberdasher]
PETRUCCIOThy 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 scissor in a barber’s shop.
Why, what o’ devil’s name, tailor, call’st thou this?
HORTENSIO(aside)
I see she’s like to have nor cap nor gown.
TAILORYou bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCCIOMarry, and did, but if you be remembered
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.
KATHERINEI never saw a better fashioned gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable.
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCCIOWhy true, he means to make a puppet of thee.
TAILORShe says your worship means to make a puppet of her.
PETRUCCIOO 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 bemete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv’st.
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marred her gown.
TAILORYour worship is deceived. The gown is made
Just as my master had direction.
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIOI gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
TAILORBut how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIOMarry, sir, with needle and thread.
TAILORBut did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIOThou hast faced many things.
TAILORI have.
GRUMIOFace 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(showing a paper) Why, here is the note of the fashion, to testify.
PETRUCCIORead it.
GRUMIOThe note lies in’s throat if he say I said so.
TAILOR(reads) ‘Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.’
GRUMIOMaster, 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.
PETRUCCIOProceed.
TAILOR(reads) ‘With a small compassed cape.’
GRUMIOI confess the cape.
TAILOR(reads) ‘With a trunk sleeve.’
GRUMIOI confess two sleeves.
TAILOR(reads) ‘The sleeves curiously cut.’
PETRUCCIOAy, there’s the villany.
GRUMIOError i‘th’ bill, sir, error i’th’ 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. 146
TAILORThis is true that I say. An I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIOI am for thee straight. Take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIOGodamercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCCIOWell, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIOYou are i‘th’ right, sir. ‘Tis for my mistress.
PETRUCCIO(to the Tailor)
Go, take it up unto thy master’s use.
GRUMIO(to the Tailor) Villain, not for thy life. Take up my mistress’ gown for thy master’s use!
PETRUCCIOWhy, sir, what’s your conceit in that?
GRUMIOO, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for. ‘Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use’—O fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCCIO(aside)
Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
(To the Tailor) Go, take it hence. Be gone, and say no
more.
HORTENSIO(aside to the Tailor)
Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow.
Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say. Commend me to thy master.
(didascalia)Exit Tailor
PETRUCCIOWell, 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 feathers 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.
KATHERINEI dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two,
And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCCIOIt 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 today, and ere I do
It shall be what o’clock I say it is.
HORTENSIO(aside)
Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Caterina e Grumio
GRUMIONo, no, in verità. Non oso, per la mia vita.
CATERINAQuanto più grande il mio torto, tanto più appare il suo dispetto.
Come, mi sposò per farmi morire di fame?
I mendicanti che vengono alla porta di mio padre
hanno, a chiederla, un’elemosina immediata;
se no, altrove trovano carità.
Ma io, che non seppi mai come si supplica,
né mai ebbi bisogno di supplicare,
sono affamata di cibo, stordita per mancanza di sonno,
tenuta sveglia con le bestemmie e nutrita di litigi;
e ciò che più mi dispetta di tutte queste privazioni,
egli lo fa in nome del perfetto amore,
come a dire che se io dormissi o mangiassi
sarebbe malattia mortale, o morte immediata.
Ti prego, va’ e portami qualche cosa da mangiare.
Non m’importa che cosa, purché sia cibo sano.
GRUMIOChe ne dite d’un piede di vitello?
CATERINAÈ oltremodo buono. Ti prego, fammelo avere.
GRUMIOTemo che sia una carne troppo collerica.
Che ne dite d’una grassa trippa ben arrostita?
CATERINAMi piace assai. Buon Grumio, portamela.
GRUMIONon saprei, temo che sia collerica.
Che ne dite d’un pezzo di manzo con la senape?
CATERINAUn piatto di cui amo cibarmi.
GRUMIOSì, ma la senape è un tantino troppo piccante.
CATERINAE allora il manzo, e lascia stare la senape.
GRUMIONo, allora non lo farò. Avrete la senape,
oppure non avrete manzo da Grumio.
CATERINAAllora l’uno e l’altra, o uno solo, o quel che vuoi.
GRUMIOE allora la senape senza il manzo.
CATERINAVa’, vattene, schiavo falso e ingannatore,
(Bastonandolo) tu che mi nutri col solo nome della
carne.
Dolore su te e su tutta la vostra genia,
che così trionfate sulla mia miseria.
Va’, vattene, dico.
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio e Ortensio, con della carne
PETRUCCIOCome sta la mia Cate? Come, dolcezza, tutta mortificata?
ORTENSIOSignora, che umore?
CATERINAIn fede, freddo quanto mai.
PETRUCCIOSu, fatti animo, guardami allegramente.
Ecco, amore, vedi come sono diligente
a cucinarti io stesso la carne e a portartela. 40
Son certo, dolce Cate, che questa gentilezza merita ringraziamento.
Come, neppure una parola? Allora non ti piace,
e tutta la mia fatica è riuscita a nulla.
Qua, portate via questo piatto.
CATERINAVi prego, lasciatelo dov’è.
PETRUCCIOIl più umile servizio è ripagato con un grazie,
e così sarà del mio, prima che tocchiate la carne.
CATERINAVi ringrazio, signore.
ORTENSIOSignor Petruccio, via, siete da biasimare.
Venite, madonna Cate, vi terrò compagnia.
PETRUCCIO(a parte)
Mangiala tutta tu, Ortensio, se mi vuoi bene.
(A Caterina) Buon pro faccia al tuo gentile cuore.
Cate, mangia in fretta; e ora, mio dolcissimo amore,
torneremo alla casa di tuo padre,
e ci daremo bel tempo splendidamente come i migliori,
con vesti di seta, e cuffie, e anelli d’oro,
con gorgiere, e polsini, e guardinfanti, e cianfrusaglie,
con sciarpe, e ventagli, e doppio cambio di
eleganze,
con braccialetti d’ambra, collane e tutta questa bazzecola.
Come, hai pranzato? Il sarto attende il tuo comodo
per adornare il tuo corpo col suo frusciante tesoro.
(didascalia)Entra il Sarto con una veste
PETRUCCIOVieni, sarto, vediamo questi ornamenti.
Stendi qua la veste.
(didascalia)Entra il Merciaio con una cuffia
PETRUCCIOChe notizie portate, signore?
MERCIAIOEcco la cuffia che Vostra Signoria ha ordinato.
PETRUCCIOMa questa è stata modellata su una scodella—
un piatto di velluto. Via, via, è sconcia e sudicia.
Ma è una conchiglia, o un guscio di noce,
un ninnolo, un balocco, una bazzecola, una cuffia da neonato.
Via con essa! Su, datemene una più grande.
CATERINANon ne voglio una più grande. Questa s’addice al tempo,
e le gentildonne portano cuffie come queste.
PETRUCCIOQuando sarete gentile ne avrete una anche voi,
e non prima d’allora.
ORTENSIO(a parte) Il che non sarà tanto presto.
CATERINAMa, signore, confido di poter aver licenza di parlare,
e parlare voglio. Non sono una bambina, non una lattante.
I vostri superiori hanno sopportato ch’io dicessi il mio pensiero;
e se voi non potete, meglio che vi turiate gli orecchi.
La mia lingua dirà l’ira del mio cuore,
o altrimenti il mio cuore, celandola, si spezzerà;
e piuttosto che ciò avvenga, sarò libera
fino all’estremo di dire quanto mi piace.
PETRUCCIOMa tu dici il vero. È una cuffia da nulla,
una crosta da pasticcio, un balocco, una torta di seta.
Ti amo molto per il fatto che non ti piace.
CATERINAAmatemi o non amatemi, la cuffia mi piace
e quella voglio avere, o non ne avrò nessuna.
[Esce il Merciaio]
PETRUCCIOLa tua veste? Ma sì. Su, sarto, vediamola.
Oh misericordia di Dio, che roba da mascherata è questa?
Che è questo—una manica? Pare un mezzo cannone.
Come, tagliuzzata su e giù come una torta di mele?
Qui c’è uno sforbiciare, un pizzicare, un tagliare, uno sbrindellare e squarciare,
come le forbici in una bottega da barbiere.
Ma in nome del diavolo, sarto, come chiami tu questa?
ORTENSIO(a parte)
Vedo che non avrà né cuffia né veste.
SARTOMi diceste di farla ordinata e bene,
secondo la foggia e il tempo.
PETRUCCIOPer la Madonna, sì, ma se ben vi ricordate
non vi dissi di guastarla secondo il tempo.
Andatevene a saltellare a casa per ogni rigagnolo,
ché salterete senza la mia clientela, signore.
Non ne voglio sapere. Via, fatene il meglio che potete.
CATERINANon vidi mai veste di foggia migliore,
più garbata, più piacevole, né più lodevole.
Pare che vogliate fare di me un fantoccio.
PETRUCCIOVerissimo: egli vuol fare di te un fantoccio.
SARTOElla dice che Vostra Signoria vuol fare di lei un fantoccio.
PETRUCCIOOh mostruosa arroganza! Menti, tu filo, tu
ditale,
tu iarda, tre quarti, mezza iarda, quarto, unghia,
tu pulce, tu lendine, tu grillo d’inverno, tu.
Sfidato in casa mia da una matassa di filo!
Via, tu straccio, tu quantità, tu scampolo,
o ti misurerò talmente con la tua canna
che penserai al cianciare finché camperai.
Io ti dico, io, che le hai guastato la veste.
SARTOVostra Signoria s’inganna. La veste è fatta
proprio come il mio padrone ebbe ordine.
Grumio diede istruzione di come dovesse esser fatta.
GRUMIOIo non gli diedi istruzione, gli diedi la stoffa.
SARTOMa come desideravate che fosse fatta?
GRUMIOPer la Madonna, signore, con ago e filo.
SARTOMa non chiedeste che fosse tagliata?
GRUMIOTu hai rifinito molte cose.
SARTOÈ vero.
GRUMIONon rifinire me. Tu hai bravato molti uomini. Non bravare me. Non voglio essere né rifinito né bravato. Ti dico che ordinai al tuo padrone di tagliare la veste, ma non gli dissi di tagliarla a pezzi. Ergo, tu menti.
SARTO(mostrando un foglio) Ma ecco la nota della foggia, a testimonianza.
PETRUCCIOLeggila.
GRUMIOLa nota mente per la gola, se dice che io dissi così.
SARTO(legge) «Imprimis, una veste dal corpo largo.»
GRUMIOPadrone, se mai dissi «veste dal corpo largo», cucitemi dentro le sue falde e battetemi a morte con un gomitolo di filo bruno. Io dissi una veste.
PETRUCCIOProsegui.
SARTO(legge) «Con una piccola mantellina arrotondata.»
GRUMIOConfesso la mantellina.
SARTO(legge) «Con una manica a sbuffo.»
GRUMIOConfesso due maniche.
SARTO(legge) «Le maniche curiosamente tagliate.»
PETRUCCIOEcco, qui sta la scelleratezza.
GRUMIOErrore nella nota, signore, errore nella nota. Io comandai che le maniche fossero tagliate e poi ricucite, e questo lo proverò su di te, quand’anche il tuo mignolo fosse armato d’un ditale. 146
SARTOÈ vero quel che dico. E se ti avessi nel luogo adatto, lo sapresti.
GRUMIOSon pronto per te all’istante. Prendi tu la nota, dammi la tua canna da misura, e non risparmiarmi.
ORTENSIODio ti ricompensi, Grumio, così non avrà vantaggio.
PETRUCCIOEbbene, signore, in breve, la veste non fa per me.
GRUMIOAvete ragione, signore. È per la mia padrona.
PETRUCCIO(al Sarto)
Va’, prendila su per l’uso del tuo padrone.
GRUMIO(al Sarto) Furfante, non per la tua vita. Prendere su la veste della mia padrona per l’uso del tuo padrone!
PETRUCCIOMa, signore, che concetto ci vedi in ciò?
GRUMIOOh, signore, il concetto è più profondo di quanto pensiate. «Prendere su la veste della mia padrona per l’uso del suo padrone»—oh via, via, via!
PETRUCCIO(a parte)
Ortensio, di’ che baderai tu a far pagare il sarto.
(Al Sarto) Va’, portala via. Vattene, e non dire altro
ancora.
ORTENSIO(a parte, al Sarto)
Sarto, ti pagherò io la veste domani.
Non prendertela per le sue parole avventate.
Via, ti dico. Salutami il tuo padrone.
(didascalia)Esce il Sarto
PETRUCCIOEbbene, vieni, mia Cate. Andremo da tuo padre
proprio in queste oneste, dimesse vesti.
Le nostre borse saranno superbe, i nostri abiti poveri,
ché è la mente che fa ricco il corpo;
e come il sole irrompe fra le nubi più oscure,
così l’onore traspare nell’abito più umile.
Come, è la ghiandaia più preziosa dell’allodola
perché le sue penne sono più belle?
O è la vipera migliore dell’anguilla
perché la sua pelle dipinta appaga l’occhio?
Oh no, buona Cate, né tu vali di meno
per questa povera acconciatura e questa umile veste.
Se lo reputi vergogna, dàlla a me;
e perciò rallegrati: partiremo subito di qui
per banchettare e spassarcela nella casa di tuo padre.
Va’ a chiamare i miei uomini, e andiamo dritti da lui,
e portate i nostri cavalli in fondo a Long Lane.
Là monteremo, e fin là andremo a piedi.
Vediamo: credo che siano ora circa le sette dell’orologio,
e bene potremo arrivarvi per l’ora del pranzo.
CATERINAOso assicurarvi, signore, che son quasi le due,
e sarà l’ora di cena prima che arriviate là.
PETRUCCIOSaranno le sette prima ch’io monti a cavallo.
Guarda: qualunque cosa io dica, o faccia, o pensi di fare,
tu la contraddici sempre. Signori, lasciate perdere.
Non partirò oggi, e prima ch’io parta
sarà l’ora dell’orologio che io dico che è.
ORTENSIO(a parte)
Ecco, questo galantuomo comanderà anche il sole.
(didascalia)Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and the Pedant dressed like Vincentio, booted and bare-headed
TRANIOSir, this is the house. Please it you that I call?
PEDANTAy, what else. And but I be deceived,
Signor Baptista may remember me
Near twenty years ago in Genoa—
TRANIOWhere we were lodgers at the Pegasus.—
Tis well, and hold your own in any case
With such austerity as ‘longeth to a father.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
PEDANTI warrant you. But sir, here comes your boy.
’Twere good he were schooled.
TRANIOFear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.
Imagine ’twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLOTut, fear not me.
TRANIOBut hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLOI told him that your father was at Venice
And that you looked for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO(giving money)
Thou’rt a tall fellow. Hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, and Lucentio as Cambio
TRANIOSignor 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.
PEDANTSoft, son. (To Baptista) 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 matched, 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 bestowed,
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signor Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
BAPTISTASir, 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.
TRANIOI 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?
BAPTISTANot in my house, Lucentio, for you know
Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants.
Besides, old Gremio is heark’ning still,
And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIOThen 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.
BAPTISTAIt likes me well. Cambio, 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.
ExitLucentio
BIONDELLOI pray the gods she may with all my heart.
TRANIODally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
(didascalia)Exit Biondello
TRANIOSignor Baptista, shall I lead the way?
Welcome. One mess is like to be your cheer.
Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa.
BAPTISTAI follow you.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Tranio come Lucentio, e il Pedante vestito come Vincenzio, con gli stivali e a capo scoperto
TRANIOSignore, questa è la casa. Vi piace ch’io chiami?
PEDANTESì, che altro. E se non m’inganno,
il signor Battista potrà ricordarsi di me
di quasi vent’anni fa, a Genova—
TRANIODove alloggiavamo al Pegaso.—
Sta bene, e in ogni caso sostenete la vostra parte
con quell’austerità che s’addice a un padre.
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
PEDANTEVe lo garantisco. Ma, signore, ecco che viene il vostro ragazzo.
Sarebbe bene che fosse istruito.
TRANIONon ne abbiate timore. Ehi, Biondello,
ora fa’ il tuo dovere a puntino, ti avverto.
Immagina che sia il vero Vincenzio.
BIONDELLOBah, non temete di me.
TRANIOMa hai fatto la tua ambasciata a Battista?
BIONDELLOGli ho detto che vostro padre era a Venezia
e che voi l’attendevate oggi in Padova.
TRANIO(dandogli del denaro)
Sei un bravo ragazzo. Tieni questo per bere.
Ecco che viene Battista. Componete il volto, signore.
(didascalia)Entrano Battista e Lucentio come Cambio
TRANIOSignor Battista, vi si incontra di buon’ora.
(Al Pedante) Signore, questo è il gentiluomo di cui vi ho parlato.
Vi prego, fatemi ora da buon padre.
Datemi Bianca per mio patrimonio.
PEDANTEPiano, figlio. (A Battista) Signore, con vostra licenza, essendo
venuto a Padova
a riscuotere alcuni debiti, mio figlio Lucentio
m’ha reso edotto d’una grave faccenda
d’amore fra vostra figlia e lui;
e per la buona fama che di voi mi giunge,
e per l’amore ch’egli porta a vostra figlia,
e lei a lui, per non trattenerlo troppo a lungo
sono contento, con la cura d’un buon padre,
di vederlo accasato; e se a voi piace approvare
non meno di me, dietro qualche accordo
mi troverete pronto e ben disposto,
d’un solo consenso, a che ella gli sia così concessa;
ché non posso essere cavilloso con voi,
signor Battista, di cui odo tanto bene.
BATTISTASignore, perdonatemi in ciò che ho da dire.
La vostra schiettezza e la vostra brevità mi piacciono assai.
È verissimo che vostro figlio Lucentio, qui presente,
ama mia figlia, ed ella ama lui,
o entrambi dissimulano profondamente i loro affetti.
E perciò, se non dite più di questo,
che da padre tratterete con lui
e assegnerete a mia figlia una dote sufficiente,
l’accordo è fatto, e tutto è concluso.
Vostro figlio avrà mia figlia col mio consenso.
TRANIOVi ringrazio, signore. Dove dunque stimate meglio
che ci fidanziamo, e che si prenda quella garanzia
che stia bene all’accordo d’entrambe le parti?
BATTISTANon nella mia casa, Lucentio, ché voi sapete
che le brocche hanno orecchie, e io ho molti servitori.
Inoltre il vecchio Gremio sta sempre in ascolto,
e potremmo facilmente essere interrotti.
TRANIOAllora nel mio alloggio, se vi aggrada.
Là dimora mio padre, e là questa notte
sbrigheremo la faccenda in privato e bene.
Mandate a chiamare vostra figlia col vostro servo qui presente.
Il mio ragazzo andrà subito a prendere il notaio.
Il peggio è questo, che con un preavviso così breve
avrete probabilmente una magra e scarsa pietanza.
BATTISTAMi sta bene. Cambio, affrettati a casa
e di’ a Bianca di prepararsi subito;
e, se vuoi, racconta quel ch’è accaduto—
che il padre di Lucentio è arrivato in Padova—
e come ella sarà probabilmente moglie di Lucentio.
Esce Lucentio
BIONDELLOPrego gli dèi che lo sia, con tutto il cuore.
TRANIONon scherzare con gli dèi, ma vattene.
(didascalia)Esce Biondello
TRANIOSignor Battista, faccio io strada?
Benvenuto. Un piatto solo sarà probabilmente il vostro banchetto.
Venite, signore, faremo meglio a Pisa.
BATTISTAVi seguo.
(didascalia)Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Lucentio and Biondello
BIONDELLOCambio.
LUCENTIOWhat sayst thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLOYou saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
LUCENTIOBiondello, what of that?
BIONDELLOFaith, nothing, but he’s left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
LUCENTIOI pray thee, moralize them.
BIONDELLOThen thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
LUCENTIOAnd what of him?
BIONDELLOHis daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
LUCENTIOAnd then?
BIONDELLOThe old priest at Saint Luke’s church is at your command at all hours.
LUCENTIOAnd what of all this?
BIONDELLOI cannot tell, except they are busied about a counterfeit assurance. Take you assurance of her cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum—to th’ 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.
LUCENTIOHear’st thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLOI 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 t’attend against you come with your appendix. Exit
LUCENTIOI 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.
(didascalia)Exit

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Lucentio e Biondello
BIONDELLOCambio.
LUCENTIOChe dici, Biondello?
BIONDELLOAvete visto il mio padrone strizzarvi l’occhio e ridere?
LUCENTIOBiondello, e con ciò?
BIONDELLOIn fede, nulla, se non che m’ha lasciato qui indietro a spiegare il senso o la morale dei suoi segni e cenni.
LUCENTIOTi prego, moralizzali.
BIONDELLOEcco dunque: Battista è al sicuro, a discorrere col padre ingannatore d’un figlio ingannevole.
LUCENTIOE che c’entra lui?
BIONDELLOSua figlia dev’essere condotta da voi alla cena.
LUCENTIOE poi?
BIONDELLOIl vecchio prete della chiesa di San Luca è ai vostri comandi a ogni ora.
LUCENTIOE che significa tutto questo?
BIONDELLONon saprei, se non che sono affaccendati intorno a una garanzia contraffatta. Prendetevi voi garanzia di lei cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum—alla chiesa portate il prete, il chierico e qualche onesto testimone sufficiente. Se questo non è ciò che cercate, non ho altro da dire, se non dire addio a Bianca per sempre e un giorno di più.
LUCENTIOMi senti, Biondello?
BIONDELLONon posso attardarmi: ho conosciuto una ragazza che si sposò in un pomeriggio mentre andava nell’orto a prendere prezzemolo per farcire un coniglio, e così potete fare voi, signore, e dunque addio, signore. Il mio padrone m’ha ordinato d’andare a San Luca a dire al prete di tenersi pronto ad attendervi quando verrete con la vostra appendice. Esce
LUCENTIOPosso e voglio, s’ella ne è contenta.
Ella sarà contenta; e allora perché dovrei dubitare?
Accada quel che accada, andrò diritto da lei.
Sarà ben strano se Cambio se ne va senza di lei.
(didascalia)Esce

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Hortensio, and servants
PETRUCCIOCome on, i’ God’s name. Once more toward our father’s.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
KATHERINEThe moon?—the sun. It is not moonlight now.
PETRUCCIOI say it is the moon that shines so bright.
KATHERINEI know it is the sun that shines so bright. 5
PETRUCCIONow, 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 crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed.
HORTENSIO(to Katherine)
Say as he says or we shall never go.
KATHERINEForward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon or sun or what you please,
And if you please to call it a rush-candle
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
PETRUCCIOI say it is the moon.
KATHERINEI know it is the moon.
PETRUCCIONay then you lie, it is the blessed sun.
KATHERINEThen God be blessed, it is the blessèd 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 still for Katherine.
HORTENSIOPetruccio, go thy ways. The field is won.
PETRUCCIOWell, forward, forward. Thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But soft, company is coming here.
(didascalia)Enter old Vincentio
PETRUCCIO(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.
HORTENSIOA will make the man mad to make the woman of him.
KATHERINEYoung 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
Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow.
PETRUCCIOWhy, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad.
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden as thou sayst he is.
KATHERINEPardon, 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.
PETRUCCIODo, good old grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travell’st. If along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.
VINCENTIOFair sir, and you, my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
My name is called Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
A son of mine which long I have not seen.
PETRUCCIOWhat is his name?
VINCENTIOLucentio, gentle sir.
PETRUCCIOHappily 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 not grieved. She is of good esteem,
Her dowry 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.
He embraces Vincentio
VINCENTIOBut is this true, or is it else your pleasure
Like pleasant travellers to break a jest
Upon the company you overtake?
HORTENSIOI do assure thee, father, so it is.
PETRUCCIOCome, go along, and see the truth hereof,
For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
(didascalia)Exeunt all but Hortensio
HORTENSIOWell, Petruccio, this has put me in heart.
Have to my widow, and if she be froward,
Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
(didascalia)Exit

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio, Caterina, Ortensio e i servi
PETRUCCIOAvanti, in nome di Dio. Ancora una volta verso la casa di nostro padre.
Buon Dio, come splende chiara e bella la luna!
CATERINALa luna?—il sole. Non è chiaro di luna adesso.
PETRUCCIOIo dico che è la luna che splende così chiara.
CATERINAIo so che è il sole che splende così chiaro. 5
PETRUCCIOOra, per il figlio di mia madre—e quello sono io—
sarà luna, o stella, o quel che mi pare,
prima ch’io faccia il viaggio alla casa di vostro padre.
Andate, e riportate indietro i nostri cavalli.
Sempre contrariato e contrariato, nient’altro che contrariato.
ORTENSIO(a Caterina)
Dite come dice lui, o non partiremo mai.
CATERINAAvanti, vi prego, poiché siamo giunti tanto lontano;
e sia luna o sole o quel che vi piace,
e se vi piace chiamarlo una candela di giunco,
d’ora innanzi giuro che così sarà per me.
PETRUCCIOIo dico che è la luna.
CATERINAIo so che è la luna.
PETRUCCIOE allora mentite, è il benedetto sole.
CATERINASia dunque Dio benedetto, è il benedetto sole;
ma sole non è quando voi dite che non lo è,
e la luna cambia come cambia la vostra mente.
Come voi volete che si chiami, quello appunto è,
e tale sarà sempre per Caterina.
ORTENSIOPetruccio, va’ pure. Il campo è vinto.
PETRUCCIOBene, avanti, avanti. Così deve correre la boccia,
e non malauguratamente contro il pendio.
Ma piano, viene gente qui.
(didascalia)Entra il vecchio Vincenzio
PETRUCCIO(A Vincenzio) Buon giorno, gentile signora, dove
andate?
Dimmi, dolce Cate, e dimmelo anche sinceramente,
hai mai veduto una gentildonna più fresca,
una tal guerra di bianco e rosso nelle sue guance?
Quali stelle trapungono il cielo con tanta bellezza
quanta ne danno quei due occhi a quel celestiale volto?
Bella, leggiadra fanciulla, ancora una volta buon giorno a te.
Dolce Cate, abbracciala per amor della sua bellezza.
ORTENSIOLo farà impazzire, quest’uomo, a farne una donna.
CATERINAGiovane vergine in boccio, bella, e fresca, e dolce,
dove ve n’andate, o dov’è la vostra dimora?
Felici i genitori d’una così bella creatura,
più felice l’uomo cui stelle favorevoli
t’assegneranno per sua leggiadra compagna di letto.
PETRUCCIOCome, che c’è ora, Cate? Spero che tu non sia impazzita.
Questo è un uomo, vecchio, rugoso, sbiadito, avvizzito,
e non una fanciulla come tu dici ch’egli sia.
CATERINAPerdonate, vecchio padre, i miei occhi ingannati,
che sono stati così abbagliati dal sole
che ogni cosa su cui posino mi pare verde.
Ora m’avvedo che siete un venerando padre.
Perdonatemi, vi prego, il mio folle sbaglio.
PETRUCCIOFatelo, buon vecchio nonno, e insieme fateci sapere
per quale via viaggiate. Se insieme a noi,
ci rallegreremo della vostra compagnia.
VINCENZIOBel signore, e voi, mia allegra signora,
che col vostro strano incontro molto m’avete stupito,
il mio nome è Vincenzio, la mia dimora Pisa,
e sono diretto a Padova, a visitarvi
un mio figlio che da lungo tempo non vedo.
PETRUCCIOCome si chiama?
VINCENZIOLucentio, gentile signore.
PETRUCCIOFelice incontro, e più felice per vostro figlio.
E ora, per legge come pure per la veneranda età,
posso chiamarvi mio amato padre.
La sorella di mia moglie, questa gentildonna,
vostro figlio ormai l’ha sposata. Non ve ne fate meraviglia,
né v’affliggete. Ella è di buona stima,
ricca di dote e di degna nascita,
e per giunta così dotata da poter convenire
alla sposa di qualsiasi nobile gentiluomo.
Lasciate ch’io abbracci il vecchio Vincenzio,
e andiamo insieme a vedere il vostro onesto figlio,
che sarà pieno di gioia del vostro arrivo.
Abbraccia Vincenzio
VINCENZIOMa è vero questo, o è piuttosto vostro spasso,
come fanno i viaggiatori burloni, gettare uno scherzo
sulla compagnia che raggiungete?
ORTENSIOVi assicuro, padre, che è proprio così.
PETRUCCIOVenite, andiamo, e vedrete la verità di ciò,
ché la nostra prima celia v’ha reso diffidente.
(didascalia)Escono tutti tranne Ortensio
ORTENSIOBene, Petruccio, questo m’ha messo animo in corpo.
Andiamo dalla mia vedova; e s’ella sarà ritrosa,
tu avrai insegnato a Ortensio a essere intrattabile.
(didascalia)Esce

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca. Gremio is out before
BIONDELLOSoftly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.
LUCENTIOI fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home, therefore leave us.
BIONDELLONay, faith, I’ll see the church a’ your back and then come back to my master’s as soon as I can.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio, Bianca, and Biondello
GREMIOI marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
(didascalia)Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Vincentio, Grumio, with attendants
PETRUCCIOSir, here’s the door. This is Lucentio’s house.
My father’s bears more toward the market-place.
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
VINCENTIOYou shall not choose but drink before you go.
I think I shall command your welcome here,
And by all likelihood some cheer is toward.
He knocks
GREMIOThey’re busy within. You were best knock louder.
Vincentio knocks again. The Pedant looks out of the window
PEDANTWhat’s he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
VINCENTIOIs Signor Lucentio within, sir?
PEDANTHe’s within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
VINCENTIOWhat if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withal?
PEDANTKeep your hundred pounds to yourself. He shall need none so long as I live.
PETRUCCIO(to Vincentio) Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. (To the Pedant) Do you hear, sir, to leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell Signor Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa and is here at the door to speak with him.
PEDANTThou liest. His father is come from Padua and here looking out at the window.
VINCENTIOArt thou his father?
PEDANTAy, sir, so his mother says, if I may believe her.
PETRUCCIO(to Vincentio) Why, how now, gentleman?Why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another man’s name.
PEDANTLay hands on the villain. I believe a means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
BIONDELLO(aside) I have seen them in the church together, God send ’em good shipping. But who is here? Mine old master, Vincentio—now we are undone and brought to nothing.
VINCENTIO(to Biondello) Come hither, crackhemp.
BIONDELLOI hope I may choose, sir.
VINCENTIOCome hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
BIONDELLOForgot you? No, sir, I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.
VINCENTIOWhat, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master’s father, Vincentio?
BIONDELLOWhat, my old worshipful old master? Yes, marry, sir, see where he looks out of the window.
VINCENTIOIs’t so indeed?
He beats Biondello
BIONDELLOHelp, help, help! Here’s a madman will murder me.
(didascalia)Exit
PEDANTHelp, son! Help, Signor Baptista!
(didascalia)Exit above
PETRUCCIOPrithee, Kate, let’s stand aside and see the end of this controversy.
They stand aside.
(didascalia)Enter Pedant with servants, Baptista, Tranio
PETRUCCIOas Lucentio
TRANIO(to Vincentio) Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
VINCENTIOWhat am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir? O immortal gods, O fine villain, a silken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak, and a copintank hat—O, I am undone, I am undone! While I play the good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.
TRANIOHow now, what’s the matter?
BAPTISTAWhat, is the man lunatic?
TRANIOSir, you seem a sober, ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman. Why sir, what ‘cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
VINCENTIOThy father! O villain, he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
BAPTISTAYou mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray what do you think is his name?
VINCENTIOHis name? As if I knew not his name—I have brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.
PEDANTAway, away, mad ass. His name is Lucentio, and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signor Vincentio.
VINCENTIOLucentio? O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the Duke’s name. O my son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
TRANIOCall forth an officer.
(didascalia)Enter an Officer
TRANIOCarry this mad knave to the jail. Father Baptista, I
charge you see that he be forthcoming.
VINCENTIOCarry me to the jail?
GREMIOStay, officer, he shall not go to prison.
BAPTISTATalk not, Signor Gremio. I say he shall go to prison.
GREMIOTake heed, Signor Baptista, lest you be cony-catched in this business. I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.
PEDANTSwear if thou dar’st.
GREMIONay, I dare not swear it.
TRANIOThen thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
GREMIOYes, I know thee to be Signor Lucentio.
BAPTISTAAway with the dotard. To the jail with him.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca
VINCENTIOThus strangers may be haled and abused. O monstrous villain!
BIONDELLOO, we are spoiled and—yonder he is. Deny him, forswear him, or else we are all undone.
(didascalia)Exeunt Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant, as fast as may be
LUCENTIO(to Vincentio) Pardon, sweet father.
He kneels
VINCENTIOLives my sweet son?
BIANCA(to Baptista) Pardon, dear father.
BAPTISTAHow hast thou offended? Where is Lucentio?
LUCENTIOHere’s Lucentio, right son to the right Vincentio,
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
GREMIOHere’s packing with a witness, to deceive us all.
VINCENTIOWhere is that damned villain Tranio,
That faced and braved me in this matter so?
BAPTISTAWhy, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
BIANCACambio is changed into Lucentio.
LUCENTIOLove wrought these miracles. Bianca’s love
Made me exchange my state with Tranio
While he did bear my countenance in the town,
And happily I have arrived at the last
Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
What Tranio did, myself enforced him to.
Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
VINCENTIOI’ll slit the villain’s nose that would have sent me to the jail.
BAPTISTABut do you hear, sir, have you married my daughter without asking my good will? 125
VINCENTIOFear not, Baptista. We will content you. Go to, but I will in to be revenged for this villainy.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTAAnd I to sound the depth of this knavery. Exit
LUCENTIOLook not pale, Bianca. Thy father will not frown.
(didascalia)Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
GREMIOMy cake is dough, but I’ll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.
(didascalia)Exit
KATHERINE(coming forward) Husband, let’s follow to see the end of this ado.
PETRUCCIOFirst kiss me, Kate, and we will.
KATHERINEWhat, in the midst of the street?
PETRUCCIOWhat, art thou ashamed of me?
KATHERINENo, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
PETRUCCIOWhy then, let’s home again. Come sirrah, let’s away.
KATHERINENay, I will give thee a kiss. Now pray thee love, stay. They kiss
PETRUCCIOIs not this well? Come, my sweet Kate.
Better once than never, for never too late.
(didascalia)Exeunt

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Biondello, Lucentio e Bianca. Gremio è fuori, davanti
BIONDELLOPiano e presto, signore, ché il prete è pronto.
LUCENTIOVolo, Biondello; ma può darsi che abbiano bisogno di te a casa, perciò lasciaci.
BIONDELLONo, in fede mia, vi vedrò le spalle davanti alla chiesa e poi tornerò da casa del mio padrone il più presto che posso.
(didascalia)Escono Lucentio, Bianca e Biondello
GREMIOMi meraviglio che Cambio non venga in tutto questo tempo.
(didascalia)Entrano Petruccio, Caterina, Vincenzio, Grumio, con i servi
PETRUCCIOSignore, ecco la porta. Questa è la casa di Lucentio.
Quella di mio suocero è più verso la piazza del mercato.
Là debbo andare, e qui vi lascio, signore.
VINCENZIONon potete fare a meno di bere prima d’andare.
Credo di poter disporre qui della vostra accoglienza,
e con ogni probabilità c’è qualche festa in corso.
Bussa
GREMIOSono affaccendati dentro. Fareste meglio a bussare più forte.
Vincenzio bussa di nuovo. Il Pedante si affaccia alla finestra
PEDANTEChi è costui che bussa come volesse abbattere il portone?
VINCENZIOÈ in casa il signor Lucentio, signore?
PEDANTEÈ in casa, signore, ma non gli si può parlare.
VINCENZIOE se uno gli portasse cento o duecento sterline da spendere in allegria?
PEDANTETenetevi le vostre cento sterline. Non ne avrà bisogno finché io vivo.
PETRUCCIO(a Vincenzio) Ve l’avevo detto io che vostro figlio era ben voluto in Padova. (Al Pedante) Udite, signore, per lasciare le circostanze frivole, vi prego di dire al signor Lucentio che suo padre è venuto da Pisa ed è qui alla porta per parlargli.
PEDANTETu menti. Suo padre è venuto da Padova ed è qui che guarda dalla finestra.
VINCENZIOSei tu suo padre?
PEDANTESì, signore, così dice sua madre, se posso crederle.
PETRUCCIO(a Vincenzio) Ma come, gentiluomo? Questa è bella e buona furfanteria, prendere su di voi il nome d’un altro.
PEDANTEMettete le mani addosso a quel furfante. Credo ch’egli intenda gabbare qualcuno in questa città sotto il mio sembiante.
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
BIONDELLO(a parte) Li ho visti insieme in chiesa, Dio mandi loro buon viaggio. Ma chi c’è qui? Il mio vecchio padrone, Vincenzio—ora siamo rovinati e ridotti a nulla.
VINCENZIO(a Biondello) Vieni qua, pendaglio da forca.
BIONDELLOSpero di poter scegliere, signore.
VINCENZIOVieni qua, canaglia. Come, m’hai dimenticato?
BIONDELLODimenticarvi? No, signore, non potrei dimenticarvi, ché non vi ho mai visto prima in tutta la mia vita.
VINCENZIOCome, furfante notorio, non hai mai visto il padre del tuo padrone, Vincenzio?
BIONDELLOCome, il mio venerando vecchio padrone? Sì, per la Madonna, signore, guardate là dove s’affaccia dalla finestra.
VINCENZIOÈ proprio così?
Bastona Biondello
BIONDELLOAiuto, aiuto, aiuto! C’è qui un pazzo che vuole assassinarmi.
(didascalia)Esce
PEDANTEAiuto, figlio! Aiuto, signor Battista!
(didascalia)Esce di sopra
PETRUCCIOTi prego, Cate, tiriamoci in disparte e vediamo la fine di questa contesa.
Si tirano in disparte.
(didascalia)Entrano il Pedante coi servi, Battista, Tranio
PETRUCCIOcome Lucentio
TRANIO(a Vincenzio) Signore, chi siete voi che osate bastonare il mio servo?
VINCENZIOChi sono io, signore? Anzi, chi siete voi, signore? Oh dèi immortali, oh bel furfante: un farsetto di seta, calze di velluto, un mantello scarlatto e un cappello a pan di zucchero—oh, sono rovinato, sono rovinato! Mentre io faccio il buon massaio a casa, mio figlio e il mio servo spendono tutto all’università.
TRANIOEbbene, che c’è?
BATTISTACome, quest’uomo è lunatico?
TRANIOSignore, dall’abito sembrate un gentiluomo sobrio e attempato, ma le vostre parole vi mostrano un pazzo. Ebbene, signore, che v’importa se io porto perle e oro? Ringrazio il mio buon padre: sono in grado di mantenerlo.
VINCENZIOTuo padre! Oh furfante, egli è un velaio a Bergamo.
BATTISTAV’ingannate, signore, v’ingannate. Di grazia, come credete che si chiami?
VINCENZIOCome si chiama? Come se io non sapessi il suo nome—l’ho allevato da quando aveva tre anni, e il suo nome è Tranio.
PEDANTEVa’ via, va’ via, asino pazzo. Il suo nome è Lucentio, ed è il mio unico figlio, ed erede delle terre di me, signor Vincenzio.
VINCENZIOLucentio? Oh, ha assassinato il suo padrone! Arrestatelo, ve l’ordino, in nome del Duca. Oh figlio mio, figlio mio! Dimmi, furfante, dov’è mio figlio Lucentio?
TRANIOChiamate una guardia.
(didascalia)Entra una Guardia
TRANIOPortate questo pazzo furfante in prigione. Padre Battista, vi
incarico di badare che sia consegnato alla giustizia.
VINCENZIOPortare me in prigione?
GREMIOFermo, guardia, egli non andrà in prigione.
BATTISTANon parlate, signor Gremio. Io dico che andrà in prigione.
GREMIOBadate, signor Battista, di non esser gabbato in questa faccenda. Oso giurare che questo è il vero Vincenzio.
PEDANTEGiura, se ne hai il coraggio.
GREMIONo, non oso giurarlo.
TRANIOAllora faresti meglio a dire che io non sono Lucentio.
GREMIOSì, io vi conosco per il signor Lucentio.
BATTISTAVia con quel rimbambito. In prigione con lui.
(didascalia)Entrano Biondello, Lucentio e Bianca
VINCENZIOCosì i forestieri possono essere trascinati e maltrattati. Oh mostruoso furfante!
BIONDELLOOh, siamo rovinati e—eccolo là. Rinnegatelo, disconoscetelo, o siamo tutti perduti.
(didascalia)Escono Biondello, Tranio e il Pedante, più in fretta che possono
LUCENTIO(a Vincenzio) Perdono, dolce padre.
S’inginocchia
VINCENZIOVive il mio dolce figlio?
BIANCA(a Battista) Perdono, caro padre.
BATTISTAIn che hai mancato? Dov’è Lucentio?
LUCENTIOEccolo Lucentio, vero figlio del vero Vincenzio,
che per matrimonio ho fatto mia vostra figlia
mentre finti scambi v’appannavano gli occhi.
GREMIOEcco un imbroglio bell’e buono, per ingannarci tutti.
VINCENZIODov’è quel dannato furfante di Tranio,
che m’ha rifinito e bravato così in questa faccenda?
BATTISTAMa dite, non è questo il mio Cambio?
BIANCACambio si è cambiato in Lucentio.
LUCENTIOL’Amore ha operato questi miracoli. L’amore di Bianca
mi fece scambiare la mia condizione con Tranio,
mentre egli portava il mio sembiante per la città;
e felicemente sono infine approdato
al porto bramato della mia beatitudine.
Ciò che Tranio fece, io stesso ve lo costrinsi.
Perdonatelo dunque, dolce padre, per amor mio.
VINCENZIOFenderò il naso a quel furfante che voleva mandarmi in prigione.
BATTISTAMa udite, signore, avete sposato mia figlia senza chiedere il mio consenso? 125
VINCENZIONon temete, Battista. Vi contenteremo. Suvvia; ma io entrerò per vendicarmi di questa scelleratezza.
(didascalia)Esce
BATTISTAE io per sondare il fondo di questa furfanteria. Esce
LUCENTIONon impallidire, Bianca. Tuo padre non aggrotterà le ciglia.
(didascalia)Escono Lucentio e Bianca
GREMIOLa mia torta è rimasta cruda; ma entrerò anch’io con gli altri,
senza speranza alcuna se non la mia parte di banchetto.
(didascalia)Esce
CATERINA(facendosi avanti) Marito, seguiamoli, per vedere la fine di questo trambusto.
PETRUCCIOPrima baciami, Cate, e lo faremo.
CATERINACome, in mezzo alla strada?
PETRUCCIOCome, ti vergogni di me?
CATERINANo, signore, Dio non voglia; ma mi vergogno di baciare.
PETRUCCIOE allora torniamocene a casa. Vieni, messere, andiamocene.
CATERINANo, ti darò un bacio. Ora, ti prego, amore, resta. Si baciano
PETRUCCIONon va bene così? Vieni, mia dolce Cate.
Meglio una volta che mai, ché mai non è troppo tardi.
(didascalia)Escono

SpeakerLine
(didascalia)Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio and Bianca, Petruccio, Katherine, and Hortensio, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, and the Widow, the servingmen with Tranio bringing in a banquet
LUCENTIOAt last, though long, our jarring notes agree,
And time it is when raging war is done
To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with selfsame kindness welcome thine.
Brother Petruccio, sister Katherina,
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house.
My banquet is to close our stomachs up
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down,
For now we sit to chat as well as eat.
They sit
PETRUCCIONothing but sit, and sit, and eat, and eat.
BAPTISTAPadua affords this kindness, son Petruccio.
PETRUCCIOPadua affords nothing but what is kind.
HORTENSIOFor both our sakes I would that word were true. 15
PETRUCCIONow, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
WIDOWThen never trust me if I be afeard.
PETRUCCIOYou are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense.
I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
WIDOWHe that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
PETRUCCIORoundly replied.
KATHERINEMistress, how mean you that?
WIDOWThus I conceive by him.
PETRUCCIOConceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
HORTENSIOMy widow says thus she conceives her tale.
PETRUCCIOVery well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.
KATHERINE‘He that is giddy thinks the world turns round’—
I pray you tell me what you meant by that.
WIDOWYour husband, being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husband’s sorrow by his woe.
And now you know my meaning.
KATHERINEA very mean meaning.
WIDOWRight, I mean you.
KATHERINEAnd I am mean indeed respecting you.
PETRUCCIOTo her, Kate!
HORTENSIOTo her, widow!
PETRUCCIOA hundred marks my Kate does put her down.
HORTENSIOThat’s my office.
PETRUCCIOSpoke like an officer! Ha’ to thee, lad.
He drinks to Hortensio
BAPTISTAHow likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
GREMIOBelieve me, sir, they butt together well.
BIANCAHead and butt? An hasty-witted body
Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
VINCENTIOAy, mistress bride, hath that awakened you?
BIANCAAy, but not frighted me, therefore I’ll sleep again.
PETRUCCIONay, that you shall not. Since you have begun,
Have at you for a better jest or two.
BIANCAAm I your bird? I mean to shift my bush,
And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
You are welcome all.
(didascalia)Exit Bianca with Katherine and the Widow
PETRUCCIOShe hath prevented me here, Signor Tranio.
This bird you aimed at, though you hit her not.
Therefore a health to all that shot and missed.
TRANIOO sir, Lucentio slipped me like his greyhound,
Which runs himself and catches for his master.
PETRUCCIOA good swift simile, but something currish.
TRANIO‘Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself.
’Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
BAPTISTAO, O, Petruccio, Tranio hits you now.
LUCENTIOI thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
HORTENSIOConfess, confess, hath he not hit you here?
PETRUCCIOA has a little galled me, I confess,
And as the jest did glance away from me,
‘Tis ten to one it maimed you two outright.
BAPTISTANow in good sadness, son Petruccio,
I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
PETRUCCIOWell, I say no.—And therefore, Sir Assurance,
Let’s each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most obedient
To come at first when he doth send for her
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
HORTENSIOContent. What’s the wager?
LUCFNTIOTwenty crowns.
PETRUCCIOTwenty crowns!
I’ll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.
LUCENTIOA hundred, then.
HORTENSIOContent.
PETRUCCIOA match, ‘tis done.
HORTENSIOWho shall begin?
LUCENTIOThat will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
BIONDELLOI go.
(didascalia)Exit
BAPTISTASon, I’ll be your half Bianca comes.
LUCENTIOI’ll have no halves, I’ll bear it all myself.
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
LUCENTIOHow now, what news?
BIONDELLOSir, my mistress sends you word
That she is busy and she cannot come.
PETRUCCIOHow? She’s busy and she cannot come?
Is that an answer?
GREMlO Ay, and a kind one, too.
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
PETRUCCIOI hope, better.
HORTENSIOSirrah Biondello,
Go and entreat my wife to come to me forthwith.
(didascalia)Exit Biondello
PETRUCCIOO ho, ‘entreat’ her—nay, then she must needs come.
HORTENSIOI am afraid, sir, do what you can,
(didascalia)Enter Biondello
HORTENSIOYours will not be entreated. Now, where’s my wife?
BIONDELLOShe says you have some goodly jest in hand.
She will not come. She bids you come to her.
PETRUCCIOWorse and worse! She will not come—O vile,
Intolerable, not to be endured!
Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress.
Say I command her come to me.
(didascalia)Exit Grumio
HORTENSIOI know her answer.
PETRUCCIOWhat?
HORTENSIOShe will not.
PETRUCCIOThe fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
(didascalia)Enter Katherine
BAPTISTANow by my halidom, here comes Katherina.
KATHERINE(to Petruccio)
What is your will, sir, that you send for me?
PETRUCCIOWhere is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?
KATHERINEThey sit conferring by the parlour fire.
PETRUCCIOGo, fetch them hither. If they deny to come,
Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
(didascalia)Exit Katherine
LUCENTIOHere is a wonder, if you talk of wonders.
HORTENSIOAnd so it is. I wonder what it bodes.
PETRUCCIOMarry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life;
An aweful rule and right supremacy,
And, to be short, what not that’s sweet and happy.
BAPTISTANow fair befall thee, good Petruccio,
The wager thou hast won, and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns,
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is changed as she had never been.
PETRUCCIONay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
(didascalia)Enter Katherine, Bianca, and the Widow
PETRUCCIOSee where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not.
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.
Katherine throws down her cap
WIDOWLord, let me never have a cause to sigh
Till I be brought to such a silly pass.
BIANCAFie, what a foolish duty call you this?
LUCENTIOI would your duty were as foolish, too.
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time.
BIANCAThe more fool you for laying on my duty.
PETRUCCIOKatherine, I charge thee tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
WIDOWCome, come, you’re mocking. We will have no telling.
PETRUCCIOCome on, I say, and first begin with her.
WIDOWShe shall not.
PETRUCCIOI say she shall: and first begin with her.
KATHERINEFie, fie, unknit that threat’ning, unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband,
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms,
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband’s foot,
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
PETRUCCIOWhy, there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
They kiss
LUCENTIOWell, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha’t.
VINCENTIO‘Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
LUCENTIOBut a harsh hearing when women are froward.
PETRUCCIOCome, Kate, we’ll to bed.
We three are married, but you two are sped.
’Twas I won the wager, though (to Lucentio) you hit
the white,
And being a winner, God give you good night.
(didascalia)Exit Petruccio with Katherine
HORTENSIONow go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrew.
LUCENTIO’Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
(didascalia)Exeunt
ADDITIONAL PASSAGESThe Taming of A Shrew, printed in 1594 and believed to derive from Shakespeare’s play as performed, contains episodes continuing and rounding off the Christopher Sly framework which may echo passages written by Shakespeare but not printed in the Folio. They are given below.

A. The following exchange occurs at a point for which there is no exact equivalent in Shakespeare’s play. It could come at the end of 2.1.The ‘fool’ of the first line is Sander, the counterpart of Grumio.
Then Sly speaks
SLYSim, when will the fool come again?
LORDHe’ll come again, my lord, anon.
SLYGi’s some more drink here. Zounds, where’s the tapster? Here, Sim, eat some of these things.
LORDSo I do, my lord.
SLYHere, Sim, I drink to thee.
LORDMy lord, here comes the players again.
SLYO brave, here’s two fine gentlewomen.

B. This passage comes between 4.5 and 4.6. If it originates with Shakespeare it implies that Grumio accompanies Petruccio at the beginning of 4.6.
SLYSim, must they be married now?
LORDAy, my lord.
(didascalia)Enter Ferando and Kate and Sander
SLYLook, Sim, the fool is come again now.

C. Sly interrupts the action of the play-within-play. This is at 5.1.102 of Shakespeare’s play.
Phylotus and Valeria runs away.

Then Sly speaks
SLYI say we’ll have no sending to prison.
LORDMy lord, this is but the play. They’re but in jest.
SLYI tell thee, Sim, we’ll have no sending to prison, that’s flat. Why, Sim, am not I Don Christo Vary? Therefore I say they shall not go to prison.
LORDNo more they shall not, my lord. They be run away.
SLYAre they run away, Sim? That’s well. Then gi’s some more drink, and let them play again.
LORDHere, my lord.
Sly drinks and then falls asleep
D. Sly is carried off between 5.1 and 5.2.
(didascalia)Exeunt omnes
LORDSly sleeps
LORDWho’s within there? Come hither, sirs, my lord’s
Asleep again. Go take him easily up
And put him in his own apparel again,
And lay him in the place where we did find him
Just underneath the alehouse side below.
But see you wake him not in any case.
BOYIt shall be done, my lord. Come help to bear him hence.
(didascalia)Exit
BOYE. The conclusion.
Then enter two bearing of Sly in his own apparel again and leaves him where they found him and then goes out. Then enter the Tapster
TAPSTERNow that the darksome night is overpast
And dawning day appears in crystal sky,
Now must I haste abroad. But soft, who’s this?
What, Sly! O wondrous, hath he lain here all night?
I’ll wake him. I think he’s starved by this,
But that his belly was so stuffed with ale.
What ho, Sly, awake, for shame!
SLYSim, gi’s some more wine. What, ’s all the players gone? Am not I a lord?
TAPSTERA lord with a murrain! Come, art thou drunken still?
SLYWho’s this? Tapster? O Lord, sirrah, I have had
The bravest dream tonight that ever thou
Heardest in all thy life.
TAPSTERAy, marry, but you had best get you home,
For your wife will course you for dreaming here tonight.
SLYWill she? I know now how to tame a shrew.
I dreamt upon it all this night till now,
And thou hast waked me out of the best dream
That ever I had in my life. But I’ll to my
Wife presently and tame her too,
An if she anger me.
TAPSTERNay, tarry, Sly, for I’ll go home with thee
And hear the rest that thou hast dreamt tonight.
(didascalia)Exeunt omnes
THE FIRST PART OFTHE CONTENTION
(2 HENRY VI)
WHENShakespeare’s history plays were gathered together in the 1623 Folio, seven years after he died, they were printed in the order of their historical events, each with a title naming the king in whose reign those events occurred. No one supposes that this is the order in which Shakespeare wrote them; and the Folio titles are demonstrably not, in all cases, those by which the plays were originally known. The three concerned with the reign of Henry VI are listed in the Folio, simply and unappealingly, as the First, Second, and Third Parts of King Henry the Sixth, and these are the names by which they have continued to be known. Versions of the Second and Third had appeared long before the Folio, in 1594 and 1595; their head titles read The First Part of the Contention of the two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster with the Death of the Good Duke Humphrey and The True Tragedy of Richard, Duke of York, and the Good King Henry the Sixth. These are, presumably, full versions of the plays’ original titles, and we revert to them in preference to the Folio’s historical listing.
A variety of internal evidence suggests that the Folio’s Part One was composed after The First Part of the Contention and Richard, Duke of York, so we depart from the Folio order, though a reader wishing to read the plays in their narrative sequence will read Henry VI, Part One before the other two plays. The dates of all three are uncertain, but Part One is alluded to in 1592, when it was probably new. The First Part of the Contention probably belongs to 1590-1.
The play draws extensively on English chronicle history for its portrayal of the troubled state of England under Henry VI (1421-71). It dramatizes the touchingly weak King’s powerlessness against the machinations of his nobles, especially Richard, Duke of York, himself ambitious for the throne. Richard engineers the Kentish rebellion, led by Jack Cade, which provides some of the play’s liveliest episodes; and at the play’s end Richard seems poised to take the throne.
Historical events of ten years (11445-55) are dramatized with comparative fidelity within a coherent structure that offers a wide variety of theatrical entertainment. Though the play employs old-fashioned conventions of language (particularly the recurrent classical references) and of dramaturgy (such as the horrors of severed heads), its bold characterization, its fundamentally serious but often ironically comic presentation of moral and political issues, the powerful rhetoric of its verse, and the vivid immediacy of its prose have proved highly effective in its rare modern revivals.
THE PERSONS OF THEPLAY

Of the King’s Party
QUEEN MARGARETWilliam de la Pole, Marquis, later Duke, of SUFFOLK, the Queen’s lover
Duke Humphrey of GLOUCESTER, the Lord Protector, the King’s uncle
Dame Eleanor Cobham, the DUCHESS of Gloucester
CARDINALBEAUFORT, Bishop of Winchester, Gloucester’s uncle and the King’s great-uncle
Duke of BUCKINGHAM
Duke of SOMERSET
Old Lord CLIFFORD
YOUNGCLIFFORD, his son
Of the Duke of York’s Party
Earl of SALISBURY
Earl of WARWICK, his son
The petitions and the combat
Two or three PETITIONERS
Thomas HORNER, an armourer
PETERThump, his man
Three NEIGHBOURS, who drink to Horner
Three PRENTICES, who drink to Peter
The conjuration
Margery Jordan, a WITCH
Roger BOLINGBROKE, a conjurer
ASNATH, a spirit
The false miracle
Simon SIMPCOX
SIMPCOX’S WIFEThe MAYOR of Saint Albans
Aldermen of Saint Albans
A BEADLE of Saint Albans
Townsmen of Saint Albans
Eleanor’s penance
Gloucester’s SERVANTS
Two SHERIFFS of London
Sir John STANLEY
HERALDThe murder of Gloucester
Two MURDERERS
COMMONSThe murder of Suffolk
CAPTAINof a ship
MASTERof that ship
The Master’s MATE
Walter WHITMORE
Two GENTLEMEN
The Cade Rebellion
Jack CADE, a Kentishman suborned by the Duke of York
Three or four CITIZENS of London
Alexander IDEN, an esquire of Kent, who kills Cade
Others
VAUX, a messenger
MESSENGERSA SOLDIER
Attendants, guards, servants, soldiers, falconers

Chi parlaBattuta
(didascalia)Entrano Battista, Vincenzio, Gremio, il Pedante, Lucentio e Bianca, Petruccio, Caterina, e Ortensio, Tranio, Biondello, Grumio, e la Vedova, con i servitori di Tranio che portano un rinfresco
LUCENTIOAlfine, benché tardi, le nostre note discordi s’accordano,
ed è tempo, quando la guerra furiosa è finita,
di sorridere degli scampati e dei pericoli passati.
Mia bella Bianca, da’ il benvenuto a mio padre,
mentre io con pari gentilezza do il benvenuto al tuo.
Fratello Petruccio, sorella Caterina,
e tu, Ortensio, con la tua amorosa vedova,
banchettate al meglio, e benvenuti nella mia casa.
Il mio rinfresco serve a chiuderci lo stomaco
dopo la nostra gran bella festa. Vi prego, sedete,
ché ora sediamo a chiacchierare tanto quanto a mangiare.
Siedono
PETRUCCIONon altro che sedere, e sedere, e mangiare, e mangiare.
BATTISTAPadova offre questa cortesia, figlio Petruccio.
PETRUCCIOPadova non offre nulla che non sia cortese.
ORTENSIOPer il bene d’entrambi vorrei che quella parola fosse vera. 15
PETRUCCIOOra, sulla mia vita, Ortensio teme la sua vedova.
VEDOVAAllora non fidatevi mai di me, se io ho paura.
PETRUCCIOSiete molto sensata, eppure mancate il mio senso.
Voglio dire che Ortensio ha paura di voi.
VEDOVAChi ha il capogiro crede che il mondo giri in tondo.
PETRUCCIORisposta tonda.
CATERINASignora, che intendete con ciò?
VEDOVACosì io concepisco di lui.
PETRUCCIOConcepisce da me! Come piace ciò a Ortensio?
ORTENSIOLa mia vedova dice che così concepisce il suo discorso.
PETRUCCIOBen rimediato. Baciatelo per questo, buona vedova.
CATERINA«Chi ha il capogiro crede che il mondo giri in tondo»—
vi prego, ditemi che cosa intendevate con ciò.
VEDOVAVostro marito, avendo il fastidio d’una bisbetica,
misura il dolore di mio marito col proprio guaio.
E ora sapete che cosa intendo.
CATERINAUn intendimento assai meschino.
VEDOVAGiusto: intendo voi.
CATERINAE meschina son davvero, rispetto a voi.
PETRUCCIOAddosso a lei, Cate!
ORTENSIOAddosso a lei, vedova!
PETRUCCIOCento marchi che la mia Cate l’atterra.
ORTENSIOQuello è il mio ufficio.
PETRUCCIOParlato da vero ufficiale! Alla tua, ragazzo.
Beve alla salute di Ortensio
BATTISTACome piace a Gremio questa gente di spirito pronto?
GREMIOCredetemi, signore, cozzano bene fra loro.
BIANCATesta e cozzo? Una persona di spirito frettoloso
direbbe che la vostra testa e il vostro cozzo son testa e corna.
VINCENZIOAh, signora sposa, questo v’ha svegliata?
BIANCASì, ma non spaventata; perciò tornerò a dormire.
PETRUCCIONo, questo non lo farete. Poiché avete cominciato,
a voi, per uno scherzo o due migliori.
BIANCASono io il vostro uccello? Intendo cambiare cespuglio,
e poi inseguitemi pure tendendo il vostro arco.
Siate tutti i benvenuti.
(didascalia)Esce Bianca con Caterina e la Vedova
PETRUCCIOM’ha prevenuto, signor Tranio.
A quest’uccello miraste voi, benché non l’abbiate colto.
Perciò un brindisi a tutti quelli che tirarono e fallirono.
TRANIOOh signore, Lucentio mi sciolse come il suo levriero,
che corre da sé e afferra per il padrone.
PETRUCCIOUn paragone veloce e buono, ma un po’ da cane.
TRANIOÈ bene, signore, che voi cacciaste per voi stesso.
Si pensa che la vostra cerva vi tenga a bada.
BATTISTAOh, oh, Petruccio, Tranio vi ha colpito adesso.
LUCENTIOTi ringrazio di quella frecciata, buon Tranio.
ORTENSIOConfessate, confessate: non v’ha colpito qui?
PETRUCCIOM’ha un poco scalfito, lo confesso;
e poiché lo scherzo è rimbalzato via da me,
dieci contro uno che ha storpiato voi due addirittura.
BATTISTAOra, in tutta serietà, figlio Petruccio,
credo che tu abbia la più vera bisbetica di tutte.
PETRUCCIOEbbene, io dico di no.—E perciò, messer Garanzia,
mandiamo ciascuno a chiamare la propria moglie,
e colui la cui moglie sarà più obbediente
nel venire subito quando la manda a chiamare
vincerà la scommessa che proporremo.
ORTENSIOD’accordo. Qual è la posta?
LUCFNTIOVenti corone.
PETRUCCIOVenti corone!
Tanto lo rischierei sul mio falcone o sul mio cane,
ma venti volte tanto su mia moglie.
LUCENTIOCento, allora.
ORTENSIOD’accordo.
PETRUCCIOAffare fatto, è concluso.
ORTENSIOChi comincia?
LUCENTIOComincerò io.
Va’, Biondello, di’ alla tua padrona di venire da me.
BIONDELLOVado.
(didascalia)Esce
BATTISTAFiglio, faccio a metà con voi che Bianca verrà.
LUCENTIONon voglio metà, sosterrò tutto io.
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
LUCENTIOEbbene, che notizie?
BIONDELLOSignore, la mia padrona vi manda a dire
ch’è occupata e non può venire.
PETRUCCIOCome? È occupata e non può venire?
È forse una risposta?
GREMIO Sì, e anche gentile.
Voglia Dio, signore, che vostra moglie non ve ne mandi una peggiore.
PETRUCCIOSpero migliore.
ORTENSIOEhi, Biondello,
va’ e prega mia moglie di venire subito da me.
(didascalia)Esce Biondello
PETRUCCIOOh oh, «pregarla»—allora dovrà pur venire.
ORTENSIOTemo, signore, che per quanto facciate,
(didascalia)Entra Biondello
ORTENSIOla vostra non si lascerà pregare. Ora, dov’è mia moglie?
BIONDELLODice che avete per le mani qualche bella burla.
Non verrà. Vi manda a dire di andare da lei.
PETRUCCIODi male in peggio! Non vuol venire—oh vile,
intollerabile, insopportabile!
Ehi, Grumio, va’ dalla tua padrona.
Dille che le comando di venire da me.
(didascalia)Esce Grumio
ORTENSIOConosco la sua risposta.
PETRUCCIOQuale?
ORTENSIONon vorrà.
PETRUCCIOTanto peggio la mia sorte, e basta così.
(didascalia)Entra Caterina
BATTISTAOra, per la mia fede, ecco che viene Caterina.
CATERINA(a Petruccio)
Qual è il vostro volere, signore, che mi mandate a chiamare?
PETRUCCIODov’è vostra sorella, e la moglie di Ortensio?
CATERINASiedono a conversare presso il fuoco del salotto.
PETRUCCIOVa’, portale qua. Se rifiutano di venire,
frustale ben bene fin dai loro mariti.
Via, dico, e portale qua subito.
(didascalia)Esce Caterina
LUCENTIOEcco una meraviglia, se si parla di meraviglie.
ORTENSIOE tale è. Mi domando che cosa presagisca.
PETRUCCIOPer la Madonna, presagisce pace, e amore, e vita quieta;
un governo autorevole e una giusta supremazia,
e, in breve, tutto ciò che è dolce e felice.
BATTISTAOra ti tocchi ogni bene, buon Petruccio.
La scommessa l’hai vinta, e io aggiungerò
alle loro perdite ventimila corone,
un’altra dote per un’altra figlia,
ché ella è mutata come se non fosse mai stata quella.
PETRUCCIONo, vincerò la mia scommessa anche meglio,
e mostrerò maggior segno della sua obbedienza,
della sua virtù e obbedienza appena edificate.
(didascalia)Entrano Caterina, Bianca e la Vedova
PETRUCCIOVedete dove viene, e conduce le vostre mogli ritrose
come prigioniere della sua femminile persuasione.
Caterina, quella vostra cuffia non vi sta bene.
Via quel ninnolo, gettatelo sotto i piedi.
Caterina getta a terra la sua cuffia
VEDOVASignore, ch’io non abbia mai motivo di sospirare
fino a esser ridotta a un tale sciocco stato.
BIANCAVia, che sciocco dovere chiamate voi questo?
LUCENTIOVorrei che anche il vostro dovere fosse così sciocco.
La saggezza del vostro dovere, bella Bianca,
m’è costata cento corone dall’ora di cena.
BIANCATanto più sciocco voi, per aver scommesso sul mio dovere.
PETRUCCIOCaterina, t’ingiungo di dire a queste donne caparbie
quale dovere debbono ai loro signori e mariti.
VEDOVAVia, via, vi burlate. Non vogliamo prediche.
PETRUCCIOAvanti, dico, e comincia proprio da lei.
VEDOVANon lo farà.
PETRUCCIOIo dico che lo farà: e comincia proprio da lei.
CATERINAVia, via, spiana quella fronte minacciosa e scortese,
e non saettare sguardi sprezzanti da quegli occhi
per ferire il tuo signore, il tuo re, il tuo governatore.
Ciò macchia la tua bellezza come il gelo morde i prati,
confonde la tua fama come i turbini scuotono i bei germogli,
e in nessun senso è conveniente o amabile.
Una donna adirata è come una fonte turbata,
fangosa, sgradevole, torbida, priva di bellezza;
e finché è tale, nessuno, per quanto arso e assetato,
si degnerà di sorbirne o di toccarne una goccia.
Tuo marito è il tuo signore, la tua vita, il tuo custode,
il tuo capo, il tuo sovrano, uno che ha cura di te
e per il tuo mantenimento affida il suo corpo
a penosa fatica per mare e per terra,
a vegliare la notte fra le tempeste, il giorno nel freddo,
mentre tu giaci al caldo a casa, sicura e protetta;
e non chiede altro tributo dalle tue mani
che amore, dolci sguardi e vera obbedienza:
troppo poco pagamento per un debito così grande.
Il dovere che il suddito deve al principe,
proprio quello una donna deve a suo marito;
e quand’ella è ritrosa, stizzosa, imbronciata, acida,
e non obbediente alla sua onesta volontà,
che cos’è se non un turpe ribelle litigioso
e una sgraziata traditrice del suo amoroso signore?
Mi vergogno che le donne siano tanto sciocche
da offrire guerra dove dovrebbero inginocchiarsi per la pace,
o cercare dominio, supremazia e potere
quando son tenute a servire, amare e obbedire.
Perché i nostri corpi son molli, e deboli, e lisci,
inadatti alla fatica e ai travagli del mondo,
se non perché la nostra molle indole e i nostri cuori
debbano bene accordarsi con le nostre parti esteriori?
Su, su, vermi ritrosi e impotenti,
la mia mente è stata grande quanto una delle vostre,
il mio cuore altrettanto, la mia ragione forse di più,
per rimbeccare parola con parola e cipiglio con cipiglio;
ma ora vedo che le nostre lance non sono che paglia,
la nostra forza altrettanto debole, la nostra debolezza senza pari,
tali da sembrare massime là dove in verità siamo minime.
Ammainate dunque la vostra alterigia, ché non giova,
e ponete le vostre mani sotto il piede di vostro marito;
in segno del qual dovere, se a lui piace,
la mia mano è pronta, e possa dargli sollievo.
PETRUCCIOEcco una ragazza! Su, vieni, e baciami, Cate.
Si baciano
LUCENTIOBene, va’ pure, vecchio mio, ché l’hai spuntata.
VINCENZIOÈ bello a udirsi quando i figli sono docili.
LUCENTIOMa aspro a udirsi quando le donne sono ritrose.
PETRUCCIOVieni, Cate, andiamo a letto.
Noi tre siamo sposati, ma voi due siete spacciati.
Fui io a vincere la scommessa, benché (a Lucentio) voi abbiate colto
il bianco;
e, da vincitore, Dio vi dia la buona notte.
(didascalia)Esce Petruccio con Caterina
ORTENSIOOra va’ pure: hai domato una bisbetica maledetta.
LUCENTIOÈ una meraviglia, con vostra licenza, ch’ella si lasci domare così.
(didascalia)Escono
PASSI AGGIUNTIVIThe Taming of A Shrew, stampato nel 1594 e ritenuto derivare dalla commedia di Shakespeare così come veniva rappresentata, contiene episodi che proseguono e completano la cornice di Christopher Sly e che possono echeggiare passi scritti da Shakespeare ma non stampati nel Folio. Sono riportati qui sotto.

A. Lo scambio seguente si colloca in un punto per il quale non esiste un equivalente esatto nella commedia di Shakespeare. Potrebbe collocarsi alla fine di 2.1. Il «buffone» del primo verso è Sander, la controparte di Grumio.
Poi parla Sly
SLYSim, quando tornerà il buffone?
LORDTornerà, mio signore, fra poco.
SLYDammi ancora da bere qui. Corpo di Bacco, dov’è l’oste? Qua, Sim, mangia un po’ di queste cose.
LORDLo faccio, mio signore.
SLYQua, Sim, bevo alla tua salute.
LORDMio signore, ecco che tornano gli attori.
SLYOh bravi, ecco due belle gentildonne.

B. Questo passo si colloca fra 4.5 e 4.6. Se proviene da Shakespeare, implica che Grumio accompagni Petruccio all’inizio di 4.6.
SLYSim, devono sposarsi adesso?
LORDSì, mio signore.
(didascalia)Entrano Ferando e Kate e Sander
SLYGuarda, Sim, ora il buffone è tornato.

C. Sly interrompe l’azione della commedia nella commedia. Ciò avviene a 5.1.102 della commedia di Shakespeare.
Filoto e Valeria fuggono.

Poi parla Sly
SLYIo dico che non si manderà nessuno in prigione.
LORDMio signore, questa non è che la commedia. Fanno per finta.
SLYTi dico, Sim, che non si manderà nessuno in prigione, e basta. Ma via, Sim, non sono io Don Christo Vary? Perciò dico che non andranno in prigione.
LORDE infatti non ci andranno, mio signore. Sono fuggiti.
SLYSono fuggiti, Sim? Sta bene. Allora dammi ancora da bere, e lascia che recitino di nuovo.
LORDEcco, mio signore.
Sly beve e poi s’addormenta
D. Sly viene portato via fra 5.1 e 5.2.
(didascalia)Escono tutti
LORDSly dorme
LORDChi c’è là dentro? Venite qua, messeri, il mio signore
s’è riaddormentato. Andate, sollevatelo pian piano
e rimettetegli i suoi abiti,
e deponetelo nel luogo dove lo trovammo,
proprio là sotto, al fianco della taverna.
Ma badate in ogni caso di non svegliarlo.
RAGAZZOSarà fatto, mio signore. Venite, aiutatemi a portarlo via.
(didascalia)Esce
RAGAZZOE. La conclusione.
Poi entrano due che portano Sly di nuovo nei suoi abiti e lo lasciano dove l’avevano trovato e poi escono. Poi entra l’Oste
OSTEOra che la notte tenebrosa è trascorsa
e il giorno nascente appare nel cielo cristallino,
debbo affrettarmi fuori. Ma piano, chi è costui?
Come, Sly! Oh prodigio, è rimasto qui tutta la notte?
Lo sveglierò. Credo che ormai sia morto di fame,
se non fosse che il suo ventre era così pieno di birra.
Ehilà, Sly, svegliati, vergogna!
SLYSim, dammi ancora del vino. Come, se ne sono andati tutti gli attori? Non sono io un lord?
OSTEUn lord col malanno! Su, sei ancora ubriaco?
SLYChi è costui? L’oste? Oh Signore, messere, ho fatto
il più splendido sogno stanotte che tu abbia mai
udito in tutta la tua vita.
OSTESì, per la Madonna, ma faresti meglio ad andartene a casa,
ché tua moglie ti darà la caccia per aver sognato qui stanotte.
SLYDavvero? Ora so come si doma una bisbetica.
Ci ho sognato sopra tutta questa notte fino ad ora,
e tu m’hai svegliato dal miglior sogno
che abbia mai fatto in vita mia. Ma andrò da mia
moglie all’istante e domerò anche lei,
se mi farà arrabbiare.
OSTENo, aspetta, Sly, ché verrò a casa con te
e udrò il resto di ciò che hai sognato stanotte.
(didascalia)Escono tutti
LA PRIMA PARTE DELLACONTESA
(2 ENRICO VI)