THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

by Shakespeare · Cluster: World Upside Down · Comedy

Abstract

Robust early Shakespearean comedy verging on farce: Petruccio woos and ‘tames’ the shrewish Katherine while disguised suitors compete for Bianca, framed by the Christopher Sly induction that explores persuasion, appearance vs reality, and the play-within-the-play.

Capitoli / Chapters

• Act I, Scene 1
• Act I, Scene 2
• Act II, Scene 1
• Act III, Scene 1
• Act III, Scene 2
• Act III, Scene 3
• Act IV, Scene 1
• Act IV, Scene 2
• Act IV, Scene 3
• Act IV, Scene 4
• Act IV, Scene 5
• Act IV, Scene 6
• Act V, Scene 1
• Act V, Scene 2

Connections

Topoi: Sleeper Awakes, World Upside Down, Theatrum Mundi, Combat Strife Archetypes: Trickster, Lover, Fool Motifs: Concealment Hidden Identity, Marriage, Clothing and Costume, Wine and Drink, Love Themes & Concepts: Marriage and Fidelity, Romantic Love, Appearance vs Reality, Deception, Identity, Satire of Society Forms & Genres: Comedy, Verse Drama, Blank Verse Historical References: Elizabethan England Settings: Italy, Europe Characters: Katherina, Petruchio, Bianca, Baptista, Lucentio, Tranio, Grumio, Hortensio, Christopher Sly

Testo integrale / Full text

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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Flourish. Enter Lucentio and his man, Tranio
LUCENTIO	Tranio, 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.
TRANIO	Mi 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;
TRANIO	The 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.
LUCENTIO	Gramercies, 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?
TRANIO	Master, 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
BAPTISTA	Gentlemen, 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.
GREMIO	To 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.
KATHERINE	I’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.
HORTENSIO	From all such devils, good Lord deliver us.
GREMIO	And 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.
BAPTISTA	Gentlemen, 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.
KATHERINE	A pretty peat! It is best Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
BIANCA	Sister, 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.
HORTENSIO	Signor Baptista, will you be so strange? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca’s grief.
GREMIO	Why will you mew her up, Signor Baptista, for this fiend of hell, And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
BAPTIST	Gentlemen, content ye. I am resolved. Go in, Bianca.
(didascalia)	Exit Bianca
BAPTIST	And 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
KATHERINE	Why, 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
GREMIO	You 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.
HORTENSIO	So 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.
GREMIO	What’s that, I pray?
HORTENSIO	Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
GREMIO	A husband?—a devil!
HORTENSIO	I say a husband.
GREMIO	I 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?
HORTENSIO	Tush, 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.
GREMIO	I cannot tell, but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition: to be whipped at the high cross every morning.
HORTENSIO	Faith, 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?
GREMIO	I 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
TRANIO	I pray, sir, tell me : is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold?
LUCENTIO	O 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.
TRANIO	Master, 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.
LUCENTIO	Gramercies, lad. Go forward, this contents. The rest will comfort, for thy counsel’s sound.
TRANIO	Master, you looked so longly on the maid Perhaps you marked not what’s the pith of all.
LUCENTIO	O 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.
TRANIO	Saw 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 ?
LUCENTIO	Tranio, 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.
LUCENTIO	Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he! But art thou not advised he took some care To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
TRANIO	Ay, marry am I, sir, and now ’tis plotted.
LUCENTIO	I have it, Tranio.
TRANIO	Master, for my hand, Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
LUCENTIO	Tell me thine first.
TRANIO	You will be schoolmaster And undertake the teaching of the maid. That’s your device.
LUCENTIO	It is. May it be done?
TRANIO	Not 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?
LUCENTIO	Basta, 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.
TRANIO	So 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.
LUCENTIO	Tranio, 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
LUCENTIO	Biondello Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?
BIONDELLO	Where 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?
LUCENTIO	Sirrah, 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?
BIONDELLO	I sir? Ne’er a whit.
LUCENTIO	And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth. Tranio is changed into Lucentio.
BIONDELLO	The better for him. Would I were so too.
TRANIO	So 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.
LUCENTIO	Tranio, 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
LUCENTIO	The presenters above speak
FIRST SERVINGMAN	My lord, you nod. You do not mind the play.
SLY	Yes, by Saint Anne do I. A good matter, surely. Comes there any more of it?
BARTHOLOMEW	My 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio and his man, Grumio
PETRUCCIO	Verona, 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.
GRUMIO	Knock, sir? Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused your worship?
PETRUCCIO	Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
GRUMIO	Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir?
PETRUCCIO	Villain, I say, knock me at this gate, And rap me well or I’ll knock your knave’s pate.
GRUMIO	My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first, And then I know after who comes by the worst.
PETRUCCIO	Will 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]
GRUMIO	Help, masters, help! My master is mad.
PETRUCCIO	Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain.
(didascalia)	Enter
PETRUCCIO	Hortensio
HORTENSIO	How now, what’s the matter? My old friend Grumio and my good friend Petruccio ? How do you all at Verona?
PETRUCCIO	Signor Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.
HORTENSIO	Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto onorato signor mio Petruccio. Rise, Grumio, rise. We will compound this quarrel. Grumio rises
GRUMIO	Nay, ‘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.
PETRUCCIO	A senseless villain. Good Hortensio, I bade the rascal knock upon your gate, And could not get him for my heart to do it.
GRUMIO	Knock 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?
PETRUCCIO	Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
HORTENSIO	Petruccio, 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 ?
PETRUCCIO	Such 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.
HORTENSIO	Petruccio, 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.
PETRUCCIO	Signor 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.
HORTENSIO	Petruccio, 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.
PETRUCCIO	Hortensio, 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.
HORTENSIO	Her father is Baptista Minola, An affable and courteous gentleman. Her name is Katherina Minola, Renowned in Padua for her scolding tongue.
PETRUCCIO	I 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.
GRUMIO	I 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.
HORTENSIO	Tarry, 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.
GRUMIO	Katherine the curst— A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
HORTENSIO	Now 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
GRUMIO	Here’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?
HORTENSIO	Peace, Grumio, it is the rival of my love. Petruccio, stand by a while.
GRUMIO	A 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?
LUCENTIO	Whate’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.
GREMIO	O this learning, what a thing it is!
GRUMIO	(aside) O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
PETRUCCIO	Peace, sirrah.
HORTENSIO	Grumio, mum. (Coming forward) God save you, Signor Gremio.
GREMIO	And 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.
GREMIO	Beloved of me, and that my deeds shall prove.
GRUMIO	(aside) And that his bags shall prove.
HORTENSIO	Gremio, ’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.
GREMIO	So said, so done, is well. Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
PETRUCCIO	I know she is an irksome brawling scold. If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
GREMIO	No, sayst me so, friend? What countryman?
PETRUCCIO	Born in Verona, old Antonio’s son. My father dead, his fortune lives for me, And I do hope good days and long to see.
GREMIO	O 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?
PETRUCCIO	Will I live!
GRUMIO	Will he woo her? Ay, or I’ll hang her.
PETRUCCIO	Why 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.
GRUMIO	For he fears none.
GREMIO	Hortensio, hark. This gentleman is happily arrived, My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.
HORTENSIO	I promised we would be contributors, And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe’er.
GREMIO	And so we will, provided that he win her.
GRUMIO	I would I were as sure of a good dinner.
(didascalia)	Enter Tranio, brave, as Lucentio, and Biondello
TRANIO	Gentlemen, 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?
BIONDELLO	He that has the two fair daughters—is’t he you mean?
TRANIO	Even he, Biondello.
GREMIO	Hark you, sir, you mean not her to—
TRANIO	Perhaps him and her, sir. What have you to do?
PETRUCCIO	Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
TRANIO	I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let’s away.
LUCENTIO	(aside) Well begun, Tranio.
HORTENSIO	Sir, a word ere you go. Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of—yea or no?
TRANIO	And if I be, sir, is it any offence?
GREMIO	No, if without more words you will get you hence.
TRANIO	Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free For me as for you?
GREMIO	But so is not she.
TRANIO	For what reason, I beseech you?
GREMIO	For this reason, if you’ll know— That she’s the choice love of Signor Gremio.
HORTENSIO	That she’s the chosen of Signor Hortensio.
TRANIO	Softly, 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.
GREMIO	What, this gentleman will out-talk us all!
LUCENTIO	Sir, give him head, I know he’ll prove a jade.
PETRUCCIO	Hortensio, to what end are all these words?
HORTENSIO	Sir, let me be so bold as ask you, Did you yet ever see Baptista’s daughter?
TRANIO	No, sir, but hear I do that he hath two, The one as famous for a scolding tongue As is the other for beauteous modesty.
PETRUCCIO	Sir, sir, the first’s for me. Let her go by.
GREMIO	Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules, And let it be more than Alcides’ twelve.
PETRUCCIO	Sir, 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.
TRANIO	If 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.
HORTENSIO	Sir, 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.
TRANIO	Sir, 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.
GRUMIO	and BIONDELLO O excellent motion! Fellows, let’s be gone.
HORTENSIO	The motion’s good indeed, and be it so. Petruccio, I shall be your ben venuto.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Katherina and Bianca, her hands bound
BIANCA	Good 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.
KATHERINE	Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell Whom thou lov’st best. See thou dissemble not.
BIANCA	Believe me, sister, of all the men alive I never yet beheld that special face Which I could fancy more than any other.
KATHERINE	Minion, thou liest. Is’t not Hortensio?
BIANCA	If you affect him, sister, here I swear I’ll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
KATHERINE	O then, belike you fancy riches more. You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
BIANCA	Is 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
KATHERINE	Baptista
BAPTISTA	Why, 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?
KATHERINE	Her silence flouts me, and I’ll be revenged. She flies after Bianca
BAPTISTA	What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
(didascalia)	Exit Bianca
KATHERINE	What, 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
BAPTISTA	Was ever gentleman thus grieved as I? But who comes here?
(didascalia)	Enter Gremio, Lucentio as a schoolmaster in the
BAPTISTA	habit of a mean man, Petruccio with Hortensio as a musician, Tranio as Lucentio, with Biondello his boy bearing a lute and books
GREMIO	Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
BAPTISTA	Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen.
PETRUCCIO	And you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter Called Katherina, fair and virtuous?
BAPTISTA	I have a daughter, sir, called Katherina.
GREMIO	You are too blunt. Go to it orderly.
PETRUCCIO	You 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
PETRUCCIO	Of that report which I so oft have heard, And for an entrance to my entertainment I do present you with a man of mine (presenting Hortensio) Cunning in music and the mathematics To instruct her fully in those sciences, Whereof I know she is not ignorant. Accept of him, or else you do me wrong. His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
BAPTISTA	You’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.
PETRUCCIO	I see you do not mean to part with her, Or else you like not of my company.
BAPTISTA	Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
PETRUCCIO	Petruccio is my name, Antonio’s son, A man well known throughout all Italy.
BAPTISTA	I know him well. You are welcome for his sake.
GREMIO	Saving your tale, Petruccio, I pray Let us that are poor petitioners speak too. Baccare, you are marvellous forward.
PETRUCCIO	O pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain be doing.
GREMIO	I 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.
BAPTISTA	A 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?
TRANIO	Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own That, being a stranger in this city here, Do make myself a suitor to your daughter, Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous. Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me In the preferment of the eldest sister. This liberty is all that I request: That upon knowledge of my parentage 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.
BAPTISTA	Lucentio is your name—of whence, I pray?
TRANIO	Of Pisa, sir, son to Vincentio.
BAPTISTA	A 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
BAPTISTA	Sirrah, 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.
PETRUCCIO	Signor 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?
BAPTISTA	After my death the one half of my lands, And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
PETRUCCIO	And for that dowry I’ll assure her of Her widowhood, be it that she survive me, In all my lands and leases whatsoever. Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand.
BAPTISTA	Ay, when the special thing is well obtained— That is her love, for that is all in all.
PETRUCCIO	Why, that is nothing, for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded, And where two raging fires meet together They do consume the thing that feeds their fury. Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. So I to her, and so she yields to me, For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
BAPTISTA	Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed. But be thou armed for some unhappy words.
PETRUCCIO	Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, That shakes not though they blow perpetually.
(didascalia)	Enter Hortensio with his head broke
BAPTISTA	How now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?
HORTENSIO	For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
BAPTISTA	What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
HORTENSIO	I think she’ll sooner prove a soldier. Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
BAPTISTA	Why then, thou canst not break her to the lute?
HORTENSIO	Why 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.
PETRUCCIO	Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench! I love her ten times more than e’er I did. O, how I long to have some chat with her!
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 ?
PETRUCCIO	I pray you, do.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Petruccio
PETRUCCIO	I’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
PETRUCCIO	Good morrow, Kate, for that’s your name, I hear.
KATHERINE	Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing. They call me Katherine that do talk of me.
PETRUCCIO	You 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.
KATHERINE	Moved? In good time. Let him that moved you hither Re-move you hence. I knew you at the first You were a movable.
PETRUCCIO	Why, what’s a movable?
KATHERINE	A joint-stool.
PETRUCCIO	Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
KATHERINE	Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
PETRUCCIO	Women are made to bear, and so are you.
KATHERINE	No such jade as you, if me you mean.
PETRUCCIO	Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee, For knowing thee to be but young and light.
KATHERINE	Too light for such a swain as you to catch, And yet as heavy as my weight should be. 205
PETRUCCIO	Should be?—should buzz.
KATHERINE	Well ta’en, and like a buzzard.
PETRUCCIO	O slow-winged turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
KATHERINE	Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
PETRUCCIO	Come, come, you wasp, i’faith you are too angry.
KATHERINE	If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
PETRUCCIO	My remedy is then to pluck it out.
KATHERINE	Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PETRUCCIO	Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
KATHERINE	In his tongue.
PETRUCCIO	Whose tongue?
KATHERINE	Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
PETRUCCIO	What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
KATHERINE	That I’ll try. She strikes him
PETRUCCIO	I swear I’ll cuff you if you strike again.
KATHERINE	So may you lose your arms. If you strike me you are no gentleman, And if no gentleman, why then, no arms.
PETRUCCIO	A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
KATHERINE	What is your crest—a coxcomb?
PETRUCCIO	A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
KATHERINE	No cock of mine. You crow too like a craven.
PETRUCCIO	Nay, come, Kate, come. You must not look so sour.
KATHERINE	It is my fashion when I see a crab.
PETRUCCIO	Why, here’s no crab, and therefore look not sour.
KATHERINE	There is, there is.
PETRUCCIO	Then show it me. 230
KATHERINE	Had I a glass I would.
PETRUCCIO	What, you mean my face?
KATHERINE	Well aimed, of such a young one.
PETRUCCIO	Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
KATHERINE	Yet you are withered.
PETRUCCIO	‘Tis with cares.
KATHERINE	I care not.
PETRUCCIO	Nay, hear you, Kate. In sooth, you scape not so. 235
KATHERINE	I chafe you if I tarry. Let me go.
PETRUCCIO	No, not a whit. I find you passing gentle. ‘Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar, For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech, yet sweet as 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.
KATHERINE	Go, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.
PETRUCCIO	Did ever Dian so become a grove As Kate this chamber with her princely gait? O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate, And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful.
KATHERINE	Where did you study all this goodly speech?
PETRUCCIO	It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
KATHERINE	A witty mother, witless else her son.
PETRUCCIO	Am I not wise?
KATHERINE	Yes, keep you warm.
PETRUCCIO	Marry, 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
PETRUCCIO	Lucentio 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.
BAPTISTA	Now, Signor Petruccio, how speed you with my daughter? 276
PETRUCCIO	How but well, sir, how but well? It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAPTISTA	Why, how now, daughter Katherine—in your dumps?
KATHERINE	Call 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.
PETRUCCIO	Father, ‘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.
KATHERINE	I’ll see thee hanged on Sunday first.
GREMIO	Hark, Petruccio, she says she’ll see thee hanged first. 296
TRANIO	Is this your speeding ? Nay then, goodnight our part.
PETRUCCIO	Be 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.
BAPTISTA	I know not what to say, but give me your hands. God send you joy, Petruccio! ’Tis a match.
GREMIO	and TRANIO Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
PETRUCCIO	Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu. I will to Venice. Sunday comes apace. We will have rings, and things, and fine array; And kiss me, Kate. We will be married o’ Sunday.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Petruccio and Katherine, severally
GREMIO	Was ever match clapped up so suddenly?
BAPTISTA	Faith, 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.
BAPTISTA	The gain I seek is quiet in the match.
GREMIO	No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch. But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter. Now is the day we long have looked for. I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
TRANIO	And I am one that love Bianca more Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
GREMIO	Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
TRANIO	Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.
GREMIO	But thine doth fry. Skipper, stand back. ’Tis age that nourisheth.
TRANIO	But youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
BAPTISTA	A 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?
GREMIO	First, 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.
TRANIO	That ‘only’ came well in. Sir, list to me. I am my father’s heir and only son. If I may have your daughter to my wife I’ll leave her houses three or four as good,
(didascalia)	Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
TRANIO	Old 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?
GREMIO	Two thousand ducats by the year of land— My land amounts not to so much in all. That she shall have; besides, an argosy That now is lying in Marseilles road. What, have I choked you with an argosy?
TRANIO	Gremio, ‘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.
GREMIO	Nay, 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.
TRANIO	Why then, the maid is mine from all the world. By your firm promise Gremio is out-vied.
BAPTISTA	I must confess your offer is the best, And let your father make her the assurance, She is your own. Else, you must pardon me, If you should die before him, where’s her dower?
TRANIO	That’s but a cavil. He is old, I young.
GREMIO	And may not young men die as well as old ?
BAPTISTA	Well, 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.
GREMIO	Adieu, good neighbour.
(didascalia)	Exit Baptista
GREMIO	Now I fear thee not. Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and in his waning age Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy ! I An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
(didascalia)	Exit
TRANIO	A 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Lucentio with books, as Cambio, Hortensio with a lute, as Licio, and Bianca
LUCENTIO	Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir. Have you so soon forgot the entertainment Her sister Katherine welcomed you withal?
HORTENSIO	But, 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.
LUCENTIO	Preposterous 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.
HORTENSIO	Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCA	Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong To strive for that which resteth in my choice. I am no breeching scholar in the schools. I’ll not be tied to hours nor ‘pointed times, But learn my lessons as I please myself; And to cut off all strife, here sit we down. (To Hortensio) Take you your instrument, play you the whiles. His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
HORTENSIO	You’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIO	That will be never. Tune your instrument. Hortensio tunes his lute. Lucentio opens a book
BIANCA	Where left we last?
LUCENTIO	Here, madam. (Reads) ‘Hie ibat Simois, hie est Sigeia tellus, Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.’
BIANCA	Construe 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.
HORTENSIO	Madam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCA	Let’s hear. (Hortensio plays) O fie, the treble jars.
LUCENTIO	Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Hortensio tunes his lute again
BIANCA	Now 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.
HORTENSIO	Madam, ’tis now in tune.
LUCENTIO	All but the bass.
HORTENSIO	The 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.
LUCENTIO	Mistrust it not, for sure Aeacides Was Ajax, called so from his grandfather.
BIANCA	I must believe my master, else, I promise you, I should be arguing still upon that doubt. But let it rest. Now Licio, to you. Good 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.
LUCENTIO	Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait. (Aside) And watch withal, for but I be deceived Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIO	Madam, 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
BIANCA	Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIO	Yet 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
MESSENGER	Mistress, your father prays you leave your books And help to dress your sister’s chamber up. You know tomorrow is the wedding day.
BIANCA	Farewell, sweet masters both. I must be gone.
LUCENTIO	Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Bianca, Messenger, and Lucentio
HORTENSIO	But I have cause to pry into this pedant. Methinks he looks as though he were in love. Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble To cast thy wand’ring eyes on every stale, Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(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?
KATHERINE	No 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.’
TRANIO	Patience, 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.
KATHERINE	Would Katherine had never seen him, though.
(didascalia)	Exit weeping
BAPTISTA	Go, 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
BIONDELLO	Master, master, news—old news, and such news as you never heard of. 31
BAPTISTA	Is it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLO	Why, is it not news to hear of Petruccio’s coming?
BAPTISTA	Is he come? 35
BIONDELLO	Why, no, sir.
BAPTISTA	What then?
BIONDELLO	He is coming.
BAPTISTA	When will he be here?
BIONDELLO	When he stands where I am and sees you there. 41
TRANIO	But say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLO	Why, 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.
BAPTISTA	Who comes with him?
BIONDELLO	O sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse, with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies pricked in’t for a feather—a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian footboy or a gentleman’s lackey.
TRANIO	’Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion; Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparelled.
BAPTISTA	I am glad he’s come, howsoe’er he comes.
BIONDELLO	Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA	Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO	Who? That Petruccio came? 75
BAPTISTA	Ay, that Petruccio came.
BIONDELLO	No, sir. I say his horse comes with him on his back.
BAPTISTA	Why, that’s all one.
BIONDELLO	Nay, 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
PETRUCCIO	Come, where be these gallants? Who’s at home?
BAPTISTA	You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCCIO	And yet I come not well.
BAPTISTA	And yet you halt not.
TRANIO	Not so well apparelled as I wish you were.
PETRUCCIO	Were 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?
BAPTISTA	Why, sir, you know this is your wedding day. First were we sad, fearing you would not come; Now sadder that you come so unprovided. Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate, An eyesore to our solemn festival.
TRANIO	And tell us what occasion of import Hath all so long detained you from your wife And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCCIO	Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear. Sufficeth I am come to keep my word, Though in some part enforced to digress, Which at more leisure I will so excuse As you shall well be satisfied withal. But where is Kate? I stay too long from her. The morning wears, ’tis time we were at church.
TRANIO	See not your bride in these unreverent robes. Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCCIO	Not I, believe me. Thus I’ll visit her.
BAPTISTA	But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCCIO	Good 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
TRANIO	He 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]
BAPTISTA	I’ll after him, and see the event of this. [Exeunt]

Atto 3, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	[Enter Lucentio as Cambio, and Tranio as Lucentio]
TRANIO	But, 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.
LUCENTIO	Were 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.
TRANIO	That 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
TRANIO	Signor Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIO	As willingly as e’er I came from school.
TRANIO	And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIO	A bridegroom, say you? ’Tis a groom indeed— A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIO	Curster than she? Why, ’tis impossible.
GREMIO	Why, he’s a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIO	Why, she’s a devil, a devil, the devil’s dam.
GREMIO	Tut, 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.’
TRANIO	What said the vicar when he rose again?
GREMIO	Trembled 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
GREMIO	Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio as
GREMIO	Licio, Baptista, Grumio, and others, attendants
PETRUCCIO	Gentlemen 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.
BAPTISTA	Is’t possible you will away tonight?
PETRUCCIO	I 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.
TRANIO	Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
PETRUCCIO	It may not be.
GREMIO	Let me entreat you.
PETRUCCIO	It cannot be.
KATHERINE	Let me entreat you.
PETRUCCIO	I am content.
KATHERINE	Are you content to stay?
PETRUCCIO	I am content you shall entreat me stay, But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
KATHERINE	Now, if you love me, stay.
PETRUCCIO	Grumio, my horse.
GRUMIO	Ay, sir, they be ready. The oats have eaten the horses.
KATHERINE	Nay, 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.
PETRUCCIO	O Kate, content thee. Prithee, be not angry.
KATHERINE	I will be angry. What hast thou to do? Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure.
GREMIO	Ay, marry, sir. Now it begins to work.
KATHERINE	Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner. I see a woman may be made a fool If she had not a spirit to resist.
PETRUCCIO	They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command. Obey the bride, you that attend on her. Go to the feast, revel and domineer, Carouse full measure to her maidenhead. Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves. But for my bonny Kate, she must with me. Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret. I will be master of what is mine own. She is my goods, my chattels. She is my house, My household-stuff, my field, my barn, My horse, my ox, my ass, my 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
BAPTISTA	Nay, let them go-a couple of quiet ones!
GREMIO	Went they not quickly I should die with laughing.
TRANIO	Of all mad matches never was the like.
LUCENTIO	Mistress, what’s your opinion of your sister?
BIANCA	That being mad herself she’s madly mated.
GREMIO	I warrant him, Petruccio is Kated.
BAPTISTA	Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants For to supply the places at the table, You know there wants no junkets at the feast. Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom’s place, And let Bianca take her sister’s room.
TRANIO	Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
BAPTISTA	She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let’s go.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Grumio
GRUMIO	Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all foul ways. Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so rayed? Was ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are coming after to warm them. Now were not I a little pot and soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly ere I should come by a fire to thaw me. But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself, for considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. Holla! Hoa, Curtis!
(didascalia)	Enter Curtis
CURTIS	Who 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!
CURTIS	Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio? GRUMlO O ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire! Cast on no water.
CURTIS	Is 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.
CURTIS	Away, you three-inch fool. I am no beast.
GRUMIO	Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot, and so long am I, at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain on thee to our mistress, whose hand—she being now at hand—thou shalt soon feel to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office.
CURTIS	I prithee, good Grumio, tell me—how goes the world?
GRUMIO	A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine. And therefore fire, do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
CURTIS	There’s fire ready, and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
GRUMIO	Why, ‘Jack boy, ho boy!’, and as much news as wilt thou.
CURTIS	Come, you are so full of cony-catching.
GRUMIO	Why, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the 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?
CURTIS	All ready, and therefore, I pray thee, news.
GRUMIO	First, know my horse is tired, my master and mistress fallen out.
CURTIS	How?
GRUMIO	Out of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby hangs a tale.
CURTIS	Let’s ha’t, good Grumio.
GRUMIO	Lend thine ear.
CURTIS	Here.
GRUMTO	(cuffing him) There.
CURTIS	This ’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.
CURTIS	Both of one horse?
GRUMIO	What’s that to thee?
CURTIS	Why, 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.
CURTIS	By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
GRUMIO	Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the rest. Let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brushed, and their garters of an indifferent knit. Let them curtsy with their left legs and not presume to touch a hair of my master’s horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?
CURTIS	They are.
GRUMIO	Call them forth.
CURTIS	(calling) Do you hear, ho? You must meet my master to countenance my mistress.
GRUMIO	Why, she hath a face of her own.
CURTIS	Who knows not that?
GRUMIO	Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
CURTIS	I call them forth to credit her.
(didascalia)	Enter four or five servingmen
GRUMIO	Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
NATHANIEL	Welcome home, Grumio!
PHILIP	How now, Grumio?
JOSEPH	What, Grumio?
NICHOLAS	Fellow Grumio!
NATHANIEL	How now, old lad!
GRUMIO	Welcome you, how now you, what you, fellow you, and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready and all things neat?
NATHANIEL	All things is ready. How near is our master?
GRUMIO	E’en at hand, alighted by this, and therefore be not—Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio and Katherine
PETRUCCIO	Where be these knaves? What, no man at door To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse? Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
ALL SERVANTS	Here, here sir, here sir.
PETRUCCIO	Here 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?
GRUMIO	Here, sir, as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCCIO	You peasant swain, you whoreson, malthorse drudge, Did I not bid thee meet me in the park And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRUMIO	Nathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made, And Gabriel’s pumps were all 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.
PETRUCCIO	Go, 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
PETRUCCIO	Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.— Off with my boots, you rogues, you villains. When? (Sings) ‘It was the friar of orders 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
PETRUCCIO	Where’s my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence, And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither— One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with. (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?
KATHERINE	Patience, I pray you, ‘twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCCIO	A 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 SERVINGMAN	Ay.
PETRUCCIO	Who brought it?
PETER	I.
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
KATHERINE	I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet. The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCCIO	I tell thee, Kate, ‘twas burnt and dried away, And I expressly am forbid to touch it, For it engenders choler, planteth anger, And better ’twere that both of us did fast, Since of ourselves ourselves are choleric, Than feed it with such 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
NATHANIEL	Peter, didst ever see the like?
PETER	He kills her in her own humour.
(didascalia)	Enter Curtis, a servant
GRUMIO	Where is he?
CURTIS	In her chamber, Making a sermon of continency to her, And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul, Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak, And sits as one new risen from a dream. Away, away, for he is coming hither.
(didascalia)	Exeunt
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio
PETRUCCIO	Thus have I politicly begun my reign, And ‘tis my hope to end successfully. My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, For then she never looks upon her lure. Another way I have to man my haggard, To make her come and know her keeper’s call— That is, to watch her as we watch these kites That bate and beat, and will not be obedient. She 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and Hortensio as Licio
TRANIO	Is’t possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca Doth fancy any other but Lucentio? I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
HORTENSIO	Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said, Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. 5 They stand aside.
(didascalia)	Enter Bianca, and Lucentio as Cambio
LUCENTIO	Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
BIANCA	What, master, read you? First resolve me that.
LUCENTIO	I read that I profess, The Art to Love.
BIANCA	And may you prove, sir, master of your art.
LUCENTIO	While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart. They stand aside
HORTENSIO	Quick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray, You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
TRANIO	O despiteful love, unconstant womankind! I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
HORTENSIO	Mistake no more, I am not Licio, Nor a musician as I seem to be, But one that scorn to live in this disguise For such a one as leaves a gentleman And makes a god of such a cullion. Know, sir, that I am called Hortensio.
TRANIO	Signor Hortensio, I have often heard Of your entire affection to Bianca, And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness I will with you, if you be so contented, Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
HORTENSIO	See how they kiss and court. 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.
TRANIO	And 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!
HORTENSIO	Would all the world but he had quite forsworn. For me, that I may surely keep mine oath I will be married to a wealthy widow Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard. And so farewell, 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
TRANIO	Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace As ‘longeth to a lover’s blessed case. Nay, I have ta’en you napping, gentle love, And have forsworn you with Hortensio.
BIANCA	Tranio, you jest. But have you both forsworn me?
TRANIO	Mistress, we have.
LUCENTIO	Then we are rid of Licio.
TRANIO	I’faith, he’ll have a lusty widow now, That shall be wooed and wedded in a day.
BIANCA	God give him joy.
TRANIO	Ay, and he’ll tame her.
BIANCA	He says so, Tranio.
TRANIO	Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCA	The taming-school—what, is there such a place?
TRANIO	Ay, mistress, and Petruccio is the master, That teacheth tricks eleven-and-twenty long To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
(didascalia)	Enter Biondello
BIONDELLO	O, 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.
TRANIO	What is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLO	Master, a marcantant or a pedant, I know not what, but formal in apparel, In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIO	And what of him, Tranio?
TRANIO	If he be credulous and trust my tale, I’ll make him glad to seem Vincentio And give assurance to Baptista Minola As if he were the right Vincentio. Take in your love, and then let me alone.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
(didascalia)	Enter a Pedant
PEDANT	God save you, sir.
TRANIO	And you, sir. You are welcome. Travel you farre on, or are you at the farthest?
PEDANT	Sir, 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.
TRANIO	What countryman, I pray?
PEDANT	Of Mantua.
TRANIO	Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid, And come to Padua careless of your life!
PEDANT	My life, sir? How, I pray? For that goes hard.
TRANIO	‘Tis death for 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.
PEDANT	Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so, For I have bills for money by exchange From Florence, and must here deliver them.
TRANIO	Well, sir, to do you courtesy This will I do, and this I will advise you. First tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
PEDANT	Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been, Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIO	Among them know you one Vincentio?
PEDANT	I know him not, but I have heard of him, A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIO	He is my father, sir, and sooth to say, In count’nance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO	(aside) As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
TRANIO	To save your life in this extremity This favour will I do you for his sake, And think it not the worst of 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.
PEDANT	O sir, I do, and will repute you ever The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIO	Then go with me to make the matter good. This, by the way, I let you understand— My father is here 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Katherine and Grumio
GRUMIO	No, no, forsooth. I dare not, for my life.
KATHERINE	The more my wrong, the more his spite appears. What, did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come unto my father’s door Upon entreaty have a present 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.
GRUMIO	What say you to a neat’s foot?
KATHERINE	‘Tis passing good. I prithee, let me have it.
GRUMIO	I fear it is too choleric a meat. How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?
KATHERINE	I like it well. Good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO	I cannot tell, I fear ’tis choleric. What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard?
KATHERINE	A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIO	Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHERINE	Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIO	Nay, then I will not. You shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHERINE	Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
GRUMIO	Why then, the mustard without the beef.
KATHERINE	Go, 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
PETRUCCIO	How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
HORTENSIO	Mistress, what cheer?
KATHERINE	Faith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCCIO	Pluck 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.
KATHERINE	I pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCCIO	The poorest service is repaid with thanks, And so shall mine before you touch the meat.
KATHERINE	I thank you, sir.
HORTENSIO	Signor 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
PETRUCCIO	Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments. Lay forth the gown.
(didascalia)	Enter Haberdasher with a cap
PETRUCCIO	What news with you, sir?
HABERDASHER	Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
PETRUCCIO	Why, this was moulded on a porringer— A velvet dish. Fie, fie, ‘tis lewd and filthy. Why, ’tis a cockle or a walnut-shell, A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby’s cap. Away with it! Come, let me have a bigger.
KATHERINE	I’ll have no bigger. This doth fit the time, And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
PETRUCCIO	When you are gentle you shall have one, too, And not till then.
HORTENSIO	(aside) That will not be in haste.
KATHERINE	Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, And speak I will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters have endured me say my mind, And if you cannot, best you stop your ears. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, Or else my heart concealing it will break, And rather than it shall I will be free Even to the uttermost as I please in words.
PETRUCCIO	Why, 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.
KATHERINE	Love me or love me not, I like the cap And it I will have, or I will have none. [Exit Haberdasher]
PETRUCCIO	Thy gown? Why, ay. Come, tailor, let us see’t. O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is here? What’s this—a sleeve? ‘Tis like a demi-cannon. What, up and down carved like an apple-tart? Here’s snip, and nip, and cut, and slish and slash, Like to a 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.
TAILOR	You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCCIO	Marry, 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.
KATHERINE	I never saw a better fashioned gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable. Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCCIO	Why true, he means to make a puppet of thee.
TAILOR	She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.
PETRUCCIO	O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble, Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail, Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket, thou. Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread! Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant, Or I shall so 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.
TAILOR	Your worship is deceived. The gown is made Just as my master had direction. Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIO	I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
TAILOR	But how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIO	Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
TAILOR	But did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIO	Thou hast faced many things.
TAILOR	I have.
GRUMIO	Face not me. Thou hast braved many men. Brave not me. I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto thee I bid thy master cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou liest.
TAILOR	(showing a paper) Why, here is the note of the fashion, to testify.
PETRUCCIO	Read it.
GRUMIO	The note lies in’s throat if he say I said so.
TAILOR	(reads) ‘Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.’
GRUMIO	Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in the skirts of it and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread. I said a gown.
PETRUCCIO	Proceed.
TAILOR	(reads) ‘With a small compassed cape.’
GRUMIO	I confess the cape.
TAILOR	(reads) ‘With a trunk sleeve.’
GRUMIO	I confess two sleeves.
TAILOR	(reads) ‘The sleeves curiously cut.’
PETRUCCIO	Ay, there’s the villany.
GRUMIO	Error 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
TAILOR	This is true that I say. An I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIO	I am for thee straight. Take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIO	Godamercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCCIO	Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIO	You 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!
PETRUCCIO	Why, sir, what’s your conceit in that?
GRUMIO	O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for. ‘Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use’—O fie, fie, fie!
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
PETRUCCIO	Well, come, my Kate. We will unto your father’s Even in these honest, mean habiliments. Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor, For ‘tis the mind that makes the body rich, And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peereth in the meanest habit. What, is the jay more precious than the lark Because his 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.
KATHERINE	I dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two, And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCCIO	It shall be seven ere I go to horse. Look what I speak, or do, or think to do, You are still crossing it. Sirs, let’t alone. I will not go 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and the Pedant dressed like Vincentio, booted and bare-headed
TRANIO	Sir, this is the house. Please it you that I call?
PEDANT	Ay, what else. And but I be deceived, Signor Baptista may remember me Near twenty years ago in Genoa—
TRANIO	Where 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
PEDANT	I warrant you. But sir, here comes your boy. ’Twere good he were schooled.
TRANIO	Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello, Now do your duty throughly, I advise you. Imagine ’twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLO	Tut, fear not me.
TRANIO	But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLO	I told him that your father was at Venice And that you 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
TRANIO	Signor Baptista, you are happily met. (To the Pedant) Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of. I pray you stand good father to me now. Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
PEDANT	Soft, son. (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.
BAPTISTA	Sir, pardon me in what I have to say. Your plainness and your shortness please me well. Right true it is your son Lucentio here Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him, Or both dissemble deeply their affections. And therefore if you say no more than this, That like a father you will deal with him And pass my daughter a sufficient dower, The match is made, and all is done. Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
TRANIO	I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best We be affied, and such assurance ta’en As shall with either part’s agreement stand?
BAPTISTA	Not in my house, Lucentio, for you know Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants. Besides, old Gremio is heark’ning still, And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIO	Then at my lodging, an it like you. There doth my father lie, and there this night We’ll pass the business privately and well. Send for your daughter by your servant here. My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently. The worst is this, that at so slender warning You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
BAPTISTA	It likes me well. 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
BIONDELLO	I pray the gods she may with all my heart.
TRANIO	Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
(didascalia)	Exit Biondello
TRANIO	Signor Baptista, shall I lead the way? Welcome. One mess is like to be your cheer. Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa.
BAPTISTA	I follow you.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 5

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Lucentio and Biondello
BIONDELLO	Cambio.
LUCENTIO	What sayst thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO	You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
LUCENTIO	Biondello, what of that?
BIONDELLO	Faith, nothing, but he’s left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
LUCENTIO	I pray thee, moralize them.
BIONDELLO	Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
LUCENTIO	And what of him?
BIONDELLO	His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
LUCENTIO	And then?
BIONDELLO	The old priest at Saint Luke’s church is at your command at all hours.
LUCENTIO	And what of all this?
BIONDELLO	I 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.
LUCENTIO	Hear’st thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO	I cannot tarry, I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit, and so may you, sir, and so adieu, sir. My master hath appointed me to go to Saint Luke’s to bid the priest be ready t’attend against you come with your appendix. Exit
LUCENTIO	I may and will, if she be so contented. She will be pleased, then wherefore should I doubt? Hap what hap may, I’ll roundly go about her. It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 4, Scena 6

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Hortensio, and servants
PETRUCCIO	Come on, i’ God’s name. Once more toward our father’s. Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
KATHERINE	The moon?—the sun. It is not moonlight now.
PETRUCCIO	I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
KATHERINE	I know it is the sun that shines so bright. 5
PETRUCCIO	Now, by my mother’s son—and that’s myself— It shall be moon, or star, or what I list Or ere I journey to your father’s house. Go on, and fetch our horses back again. Evermore crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed.
HORTENSIO	(to Katherine) Say as he says or we shall never go.
KATHERINE	Forward, 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.
PETRUCCIO	I say it is the moon.
KATHERINE	I know it is the moon.
PETRUCCIO	Nay then you lie, it is the blessed sun.
KATHERINE	Then 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.
HORTENSIO	Petruccio, go thy ways. The field is won.
PETRUCCIO	Well, 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.
HORTENSIO	A will make the man mad to make the woman of him.
KATHERINE	Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet, Whither away, or where is thy abode? Happy the parents of so fair a child, Happier the man whom favourable stars Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow.
PETRUCCIO	Why, 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.
KATHERINE	Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes That have been so bedazzled with the sun That everything I look on seemeth green. Now I perceive thou art a reverend father. Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
PETRUCCIO	Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known Which way thou travell’st. If along with us, We shall be joyful of thy company.
VINCENTIO	Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress, That with your strange encounter much amazed me, My name is called Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa, And bound I am to Padua, there to visit A son of mine which long I have not seen.
PETRUCCIO	What is his name?
VINCENTIO	Lucentio, gentle sir.
PETRUCCIO	Happily 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
VINCENTIO	But is this true, or is it else your pleasure Like pleasant travellers to break a jest Upon the company you overtake?
HORTENSIO	I do assure thee, father, so it is.
PETRUCCIO	Come, go along, and see the truth hereof, For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Hortensio
HORTENSIO	Well, 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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca. Gremio is out before
BIONDELLO	Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.
LUCENTIO	I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home, therefore leave us.
BIONDELLO	Nay, 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
GREMIO	I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
(didascalia)	Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Vincentio, Grumio, with attendants
PETRUCCIO	Sir, 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.
VINCENTIO	You 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
GREMIO	They’re busy within. You were best knock louder. Vincentio knocks again. The Pedant looks out of the window
PEDANT	What’s he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
VINCENTIO	Is Signor Lucentio within, sir?
PEDANT	He’s within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
VINCENTIO	What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withal?
PEDANT	Keep 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.
PEDANT	Thou liest. His father is come from Padua and here looking out at the window.
VINCENTIO	Art thou his father?
PEDANT	Ay, 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.
PEDANT	Lay 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.
BIONDELLO	I hope I may choose, sir.
VINCENTIO	Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
BIONDELLO	Forgot you? No, sir, I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.
VINCENTIO	What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master’s father, Vincentio?
BIONDELLO	What, my old worshipful old master? Yes, marry, sir, see where he looks out of the window.
VINCENTIO	Is’t so indeed? He beats Biondello
BIONDELLO	Help, help, help! Here’s a madman will murder me.
(didascalia)	Exit
PEDANT	Help, son! Help, Signor Baptista!
(didascalia)	Exit above
PETRUCCIO	Prithee, Kate, let’s stand aside and see the end of this controversy. They stand aside.
(didascalia)	Enter Pedant with servants, Baptista, Tranio
PETRUCCIO	as Lucentio
TRANIO	(to Vincentio) Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
VINCENTIO	What 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.
TRANIO	How now, what’s the matter?
BAPTISTA	What, is the man lunatic?
TRANIO	Sir, 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.
VINCENTIO	Thy father! O villain, he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
BAPTISTA	You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray what do you think is his name?
VINCENTIO	His 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.
PEDANT	Away, away, mad ass. His name is Lucentio, and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signor Vincentio.
VINCENTIO	Lucentio? 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?
TRANIO	Call forth an officer.
(didascalia)	Enter an Officer
TRANIO	Carry this mad knave to the jail. Father Baptista, I charge you see that he be forthcoming.
VINCENTIO	Carry me to the jail?
GREMIO	Stay, officer, he shall not go to prison.
BAPTISTA	Talk not, Signor Gremio. I say he shall go to prison.
GREMIO	Take heed, Signor Baptista, lest you be cony-catched in this business. I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.
PEDANT	Swear if thou dar’st.
GREMIO	Nay, I dare not swear it.
TRANIO	Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
GREMIO	Yes, I know thee to be Signor Lucentio.
BAPTISTA	Away with the dotard. To the jail with him.
(didascalia)	Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca
VINCENTIO	Thus strangers may be haled and abused. O monstrous villain!
BIONDELLO	O, 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
VINCENTIO	Lives my sweet son?
BIANCA	(to Baptista) Pardon, dear father.
BAPTISTA	How hast thou offended? Where is Lucentio?
LUCENTIO	Here’s Lucentio, right son to the right Vincentio, That have by marriage made thy daughter mine, While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
GREMIO	Here’s packing with a witness, to deceive us all.
VINCENTIO	Where is that damned villain Tranio, That faced and braved me in this matter so?
BAPTISTA	Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
BIANCA	Cambio is changed into Lucentio.
LUCENTIO	Love 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.
VINCENTIO	I’ll slit the villain’s nose that would have sent me to the jail.
BAPTISTA	But do you hear, sir, have you married my daughter without asking my good will? 125
VINCENTIO	Fear not, Baptista. We will content you. Go to, but I will in to be revenged for this villainy.
(didascalia)	Exit
BAPTISTA	And I to sound the depth of this knavery. Exit
LUCENTIO	Look not pale, Bianca. Thy father will not frown.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca
GREMIO	My 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.
PETRUCCIO	First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
KATHERINE	What, in the midst of the street?
PETRUCCIO	What, art thou ashamed of me?
KATHERINE	No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
PETRUCCIO	Why then, let’s home again. Come sirrah, let’s away.
KATHERINE	Nay, I will give thee a kiss. Now pray thee love, stay. They kiss
PETRUCCIO	Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate. Better once than never, for never too late.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(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
LUCENTIO	At 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
PETRUCCIO	Nothing but sit, and sit, and eat, and eat.
BAPTISTA	Padua affords this kindness, son Petruccio.
PETRUCCIO	Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
HORTENSIO	For both our sakes I would that word were true. 15
PETRUCCIO	Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
WIDOW	Then never trust me if I be afeard.
PETRUCCIO	You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense. I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
WIDOW	He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
PETRUCCIO	Roundly replied.
KATHERINE	Mistress, how mean you that?
WIDOW	Thus I conceive by him.
PETRUCCIO	Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
HORTENSIO	My widow says thus she conceives her tale.
PETRUCCIO	Very 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.
WIDOW	Your husband, being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husband’s sorrow by his woe. And now you know my meaning.
KATHERINE	A very mean meaning.
WIDOW	Right, I mean you.
KATHERINE	And I am mean indeed respecting you.
PETRUCCIO	To her, Kate!
HORTENSIO	To her, widow!
PETRUCCIO	A hundred marks my Kate does put her down.
HORTENSIO	That’s my office.
PETRUCCIO	Spoke like an officer! Ha’ to thee, lad. He drinks to Hortensio
BAPTISTA	How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
GREMIO	Believe me, sir, they butt together well.
BIANCA	Head and butt? An hasty-witted body Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
VINCENTIO	Ay, mistress bride, hath that awakened you?
BIANCA	Ay, but not frighted me, therefore I’ll sleep again.
PETRUCCIO	Nay, that you shall not. Since you have begun, Have at you for a better jest or two.
BIANCA	Am 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
PETRUCCIO	She 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.
TRANIO	O sir, Lucentio slipped me like his greyhound, Which runs himself and catches for his master.
PETRUCCIO	A 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.
BAPTISTA	O, O, Petruccio, Tranio hits you now.
LUCENTIO	I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
HORTENSIO	Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here?
PETRUCCIO	A 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.
BAPTISTA	Now in good sadness, son Petruccio, I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
PETRUCCIO	Well, 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.
HORTENSIO	Content. What’s the wager?
LUCFNTIO	Twenty crowns.
PETRUCCIO	Twenty crowns! I’ll venture so much of my hawk or hound, But twenty times so much upon my wife.
LUCENTIO	A hundred, then.
HORTENSIO	Content.
PETRUCCIO	A match, ‘tis done.
HORTENSIO	Who shall begin?
LUCENTIO	That will I. Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
BIONDELLO	I go.
(didascalia)	Exit
BAPTISTA	Son, I’ll be your half Bianca comes.
LUCENTIO	I’ll have no halves, I’ll bear it all myself.
(didascalia)	Enter Biondello
LUCENTIO	How now, what news?
BIONDELLO	Sir, my mistress sends you word That she is busy and she cannot come.
PETRUCCIO	How? 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.
PETRUCCIO	I hope, better.
HORTENSIO	Sirrah Biondello, Go and entreat my wife to come to me forthwith.
(didascalia)	Exit Biondello
PETRUCCIO	O ho, ‘entreat’ her—nay, then she must needs come.
HORTENSIO	I am afraid, sir, do what you can,
(didascalia)	Enter Biondello
HORTENSIO	Yours will not be entreated. Now, where’s my wife?
BIONDELLO	She says you have some goodly jest in hand. She will not come. She bids you come to her.
PETRUCCIO	Worse 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
HORTENSIO	I know her answer.
PETRUCCIO	What?
HORTENSIO	She will not.
PETRUCCIO	The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
(didascalia)	Enter Katherine
BAPTISTA	Now by my halidom, here comes Katherina.
KATHERINE	(to Petruccio) What is your will, sir, that you send for me?
PETRUCCIO	Where is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?
KATHERINE	They sit conferring by the parlour fire.
PETRUCCIO	Go, 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
LUCENTIO	Here is a wonder, if you talk of wonders.
HORTENSIO	And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.
PETRUCCIO	Marry, 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.
BAPTISTA	Now 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.
PETRUCCIO	Nay, 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
PETRUCCIO	See 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
WIDOW	Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh Till I be brought to such a silly pass.
BIANCA	Fie, what a foolish duty call you this?
LUCENTIO	I would your duty were as foolish, too. The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time.
BIANCA	The more fool you for laying on my duty.
PETRUCCIO	Katherine, I charge thee tell these headstrong women What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
WIDOW	Come, come, you’re mocking. We will have no telling.
PETRUCCIO	Come on, I say, and first begin with her.
WIDOW	She shall not.
PETRUCCIO	I say she shall: and first begin with her.
KATHERINE	Fie, 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.
PETRUCCIO	Why, there’s a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate. They kiss
LUCENTIO	Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha’t.
VINCENTIO	‘Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
LUCENTIO	But a harsh hearing when women are froward.
PETRUCCIO	Come, 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
HORTENSIO	Now go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrew.
LUCENTIO	’Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
(didascalia)	Exeunt
ADDITIONAL PASSAGES	The 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
SLY	Sim, when will the fool come again?
LORD	He’ll come again, my lord, anon.
SLY	Gi’s some more drink here. Zounds, where’s the tapster? Here, Sim, eat some of these things.
LORD	So I do, my lord.
SLY	Here, Sim, I drink to thee.
LORD	My lord, here comes the players again.
SLY	O 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.
SLY	Sim, must they be married now?
LORD	Ay, my lord.
(didascalia)	Enter Ferando and Kate and Sander
SLY	Look, 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
SLY	I say we’ll have no sending to prison.
LORD	My lord, this is but the play. They’re but in jest.
SLY	I 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.
LORD	No more they shall not, my lord. They be run away.
SLY	Are they run away, Sim? That’s well. Then gi’s some more drink, and let them play again.
LORD	Here, my lord. Sly drinks and then falls asleep D. Sly is carried off between 5.1 and 5.2.
(didascalia)	Exeunt omnes
LORD	Sly sleeps
LORD	Who’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.
BOY	It shall be done, my lord. Come help to bear him hence.
(didascalia)	Exit
BOY	E. 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
TAPSTER	Now 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!
SLY	Sim, gi’s some more wine. What, ’s all the players gone? Am not I a lord?
TAPSTER	A lord with a murrain! Come, art thou drunken still?
SLY	Who’s this? Tapster? O Lord, sirrah, I have had The bravest dream tonight that ever thou Heardest in all thy life.
TAPSTER	Ay, marry, but you had best get you home, For your wife will course you for dreaming here tonight.
SLY	Will 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.
TAPSTER	Nay, tarry, Sly, for I’ll go home with thee And hear the rest that thou hast dreamt tonight.
(didascalia)	Exeunt omnes
THE FIRST PART OF	THE CONTENTION (2 HENRY VI)
WHEN	Shakespeare’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 THE	PLAY Of the King’s Party
QUEEN MARGARET	William 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
CARDINAL	BEAUFORT, Bishop of Winchester, Gloucester’s uncle and the King’s great-uncle Duke of BUCKINGHAM Duke of SOMERSET Old Lord CLIFFORD
YOUNG	CLIFFORD, 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
PETER	Thump, 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 WIFE	The 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
HERALD	The murder of Gloucester Two MURDERERS
COMMONS	The murder of Suffolk
CAPTAIN	of a ship
MASTER	of 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
MESSENGERS	A SOLDIER Attendants, guards, servants, soldiers, falconers