The Taming of the Shrew

The text of The Taming of the Shrew printed in the First Folio in 1623 as the eleventh of the comedies stands in close, but ill-defined, relation to a play printed in 1594 with the similar title of The Taming of a Shrew. Once regarded as Shakespeare’s source for The Shrew, A Shrew is perhaps better understood as a garbled and abbreviated adaptation of it in which the ‘taming’ plot follows very similar lines and includes verbal reminiscences, the ‘Bianca’plot is radically rewritten and draws heavily on quotations from Marlowe’s plays, and the framing device of Sly is sustained to the end of the play, where it affords an ironic epilogue in which Sly, sober, sets off home to tame his wife too. The likely period of composition of The Shrew is between about 1590 and 1594.

Shrew-taming stories and ballads, originating in folk-tales, were widely known in the sixteenth century and no single original for the play has been identified. Similarly, the device of gulling a beggar into the belief that he is a king or lord is an ancient and widespread narrative motif, best known today from The Arabian Nights’ Entertainment. The story of Bianca and her suitors has an immediate dramatic source in Supposes (1566), George Gascoigne’s English version of a prose comedy, I Suppositi (1509), by Lodovico Ariosto. The skilful weaving of these three into a complex action is among the play’s notable achievements.

The Taming of the Shrew has had a long and successful stage history, both in its full form and in successive adaptations and abridgements, of which David Garrick’s Catherine and Petruchio (1756) had the longest life. The play shares with The Merchant of Venice the unhappy distinction of giving general offence to modern sensibilities. However, Shakespeare’s portrayal of the ‘taming’ of Katherina tones down the coarseness and physicalviolence of contemporary analogues, substituting a course of psychological homeopathy to cure her of her shrewishness. A feminist repartee was delivered as early as 1611 by John Fletcher in his comedy The Woman’s Prize, or the Tamer Tamed. In it, Petruchio is subjected to four acts of frustration and humiliation by a second wife, Maria (who is evidently acquainted with the Lysistrata of Aristophanes), before wounded male pride is restored at the end by her voluntary reversion to wifely good behav-iour.

The modern response of indignation at the taming plot is understandable – even inevitable – but it runs the risk of ignoring the wholly speculative and fictional scheme of things in which Shakespeare’s ‘supposes’ –hypothetical propositions about men and women as much as disguised or substituted characters – are presented for the entertainment of Sly and of ourselves. Katherina and Petruchio are at once differentiated from the rest of the characters by force of personality and by an evident emotional compatibility: the roles have been relished by generations of star performers, among them Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor on film. Their interchanges anticipate the ‘merry war’ of Beatrice and Benedick, both in their witty surface and in the underlying seriousness of the tussle for power in marriage. Sly’s disappearance at the end of the first act of the Folio text is perplexing: some modern productions have made effective use of his later interventions borrowed from A Shrew. The disappearance of Sly leaves the end of the play more open to the various reactions of an audience, whereas his epilogue can increase a sense of that ending as no more than a male fantasy of unattainable control.

The Arden text is based on the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

INDUCTION
Christopher SLY		a tinker
HOSTESS
LORD
PAGE, HUNTSMEN and SERVANTS		attending on the lord
A company of PLAYERS
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
BAPTISTA Minola		a rich citizen of Padua
KATHERINA		the Shrew, elder daughter of Baptista
PETRUCHIO		a gentleman of Verona, suitor to Katherina
GRUMIO		Petruchio’s personal servant
CURTIS		Petruchio’s chief servant at his country house
TAILOR
HABERDASHER
Five other SERVANTS of Petruchio
BIANCA		younger daughter of Baptista
GREMIO		rich old citizen of Padua, suitor to Bianca
HORTENSIO		a gentleman of Padua, suitor to Bianca
LUCENTIO		a gentleman of Pisa, suitor to Bianca
TRANIO		personal servant to Lucentio
BIONDELLO		servant to Lucentio
VINCENTIO		rich citizen of Pisa, father of Lucentio
PEDANT		of Mantua
WIDOW
SERVANTS		attending on Baptista

Ind.1 Enter CHRISTOPHER SLY and the Hostess.
SLY     I’ll feeze you, in faith.
HOSTESS     A pair of stocks, you rogue.
SLY     Y’are a baggage, the Slys are no rogues. Look in the
Chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror.
Therefore paucas pallabris, let the world slide. Sessa!	5
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 thirdborough.     Exit.	10
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. [Falls asleep.]
Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train.
LORD
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds.	15
Breathe Merriman, the poor cur is emboss’d,
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth’d 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.	20
1 HUNTSMAN
Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord.
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice today pick’d out the dullest scent.
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
LORD     Thou art a fool. If Echo were as fleet,	25
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all.
Tomorrow I intend to hunt again.
1 HUNTSMAN     I will, my lord.
LORD
What’s here? One dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?	30
2 HUNTSMAN
He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm’d 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.	35
What think you, if he were convey’d to bed,
Wrapp’d 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?	40
1 HUNTSMAN
Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
2 HUNTSMAN
It would seem strange unto him when he wak’d.
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,	45
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.	50
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 bestrew’d with flowers,	55
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say ‘Will’t please your lordship cool your hands?’
Some one be ready with a costly suit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear.
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,	60
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.	65
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.
1 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.	70
LORD     Take him up gently, and to bed with him,
And each one to his office when he wakes.
Sly is carried off. Sound trumpets.
Sirrah, go see what trumpet ’tis that sounds –
Exit Servingman.
Belike some noble gentleman that means,
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.	75
Enter Servingman.
How now? Who is it?
SERVINGMAN     An’t please your honour, players
That offer service to your lordship.
LORD     Bid them come near.
Enter Players.
Now, fellows, you are welcome.
PLAYERS     We thank your honour.
LORD     Do you intend to stay with me tonight?	80
1 PLAYER
So please your lordship to accept our duty.
LORD     With all my heart. This fellow I remember
Since once he play’d a farmer’s eldest son.
’Twas where you woo’d the gentlewoman so well.
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part	85
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform’d.
2 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	90
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–	95
You break into some merry passion
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.
1 PLAYER
Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world.	100
LORD     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.
Sirrah, go you to Barthol’mew my page,
And see him dress’d in all suits like a lady.	105
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 observ’d in noble ladies	110
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	115
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 overjoy’d
To see her noble lord restor’d to health,	120
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,	125
Which in a napkin being close convey’d,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch’d 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,	130
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	135
May well abate the over-merry spleen
Which otherwise would grow into extremes.     Exeunt.
Ind.2 Enter aloft SLY, with attendants; some with apparel, basin and ewer, and other appurtenances; and Lord.
SLY     For God’s sake, a pot of small ale.
1 SERVINGMAN     Will’t please your lordship drink a cup
of sack?
2 SERVINGMAN     Will’t please your honour taste of these
conserves?	5
3 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.	10
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 overleather.	15
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	20
Christopher Sly, old Sly’s son of Burton-heath, by
birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by
transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present
profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-
wife of Wincot, if she know me not. If she say I am not	25
fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up
for the lying’st knave in Christendom. [A Servant
brings him a pot of ale.] What! I am not bestraught.
Here’s – [He drinks.]
3 SERVINGMAN
O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.	30
2 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,	35
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? Hark, Apollo plays,      [Music.]
And twenty caged nightingales do sing.	40
Or wilt thou sleep? We’ll have thee to a couch
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm’d up for Semiramis.
Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground.
Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapp’d,	45
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.	50
1 SERVINGMAN
Say thou wilt course, thy greyhounds are as swift
As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.
2 SERVINGMAN
Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight
Adonis painted by a running brook,
And Cytherea all in sedges hid,	55
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.
LORD     We’ll show thee Io as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surpris’d,
As lively painted as the deed was done.	60
3 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.	65
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age.
1 SERVINGMAN
And till the tears that she hath shed for thee
Like envious floods o’er-run her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;	70
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 dream’d till now?
I do not sleep. I see, I hear, I speak.
I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things.	75
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed,
And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight,
And once again a pot o’th’ smallest ale.
2 SERVINGMAN
Will’t please your mightiness to wash your hands?	80
O, how we joy to see your wit restor’d!
O, that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
Or when you wak’d, so wak’d as if you slept.
SLY     These fifteen years! By my fay, a goodly nap.	85
But did I never speak of all that time?
1 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,	90
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal’d quarts.
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
SLY     Ay, the woman’s maid of the house.
3 SERVINGMAN
Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid,	95
Nor no such men as you have reckon’d up,
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell,
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were nor no man ever saw.	100
SLY     Now Lord be thanked for my good amends.
ALL     Amen.
Enter Page as a lady, with attendants.
One gives Sly a pot of ale.
SLY     I thank thee, thou shalt not lose by it.
PAGE   How fares my noble lord?
SLY     Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough.	105
Where is my wife?
PAGE   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.
PAGE
My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;	110
I am your wife in all obedience.
SLY     I know it well. What must I call her?
LORD     Madam.
SLY     Alice madam, or Joan madam?
LORD     Madam and nothing else, so lords call ladies.	115
SLY     Madam wife, they say that I have dream’d
And slept above some fifteen year or more.
PAGE   Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
Being all this time abandon’d from your bed.
SLY     ’Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.	120
Exeunt attendants.
Madam, undress you and come now to bed.
PAGE     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 charg’d,	125
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	130
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 congeal’d your blood,	135
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	140
A Christmas gambol or a tumbling-trick?
PAGE     No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
SLY     What, household stuff?
PAGE     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.	145

1.1 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 arriv’d for fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy,
And by my father’s love and leave am arm’d	5
With his good will and thy good company,
My trusty servant well approv’d in all,
Here let us breathe and haply institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
Pisa renowned for grave citizens	10
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 conceiv’d	15
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 achiev’d.	20
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 perdonato, gentle master mine.	25
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,	30
Let’s be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
Or so devote to Aristotle’s checks
As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur’d.
Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk,	35
Music and poesy use to quicken you,
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.	40
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.	45
But stay awhile, what company is this?
TRANIO     Master, some show to welcome us to town.
Lucentio and Tranio stand by.
Enter BAPTISTA with his two daughters KATHERINA and BIANCA, GREMIO, a pantaloon, HORTENSIO, suitor to Bianca.
BAPTISTA     Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am resolv’d you know;
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter	50
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.	55
There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?
KATHERINA     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.	60
KATHERINA     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-legg’d stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.	65
HORTENSIO     From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
GREMIO     And me too, good Lord!
TRANIO
Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward.
That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
LUCENTIO     But in the other’s silence do I see	70
Maid’s mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio.
TRANIO     Well said, master. Mum! and gaze your fill.
BAPTISTA     Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said – Bianca, get you in.	75
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne’er the less, my girl.
KATHERINA     A pretty peat! it is best put finger in the
eye, and she knew why.
BIANCA     Sister, content you in my discontent.	80
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe.
My books and instruments shall be my company,
On them to look and practise by myself.
LUCENTIO
Hark, Tranio, thou may’st hear Minerva speak.
HORTENSIO     Signor Baptista, will you be so strange?	85
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?
BAPTISTA     Gentlemen, content ye. I am resolv’d.	90
Go in, Bianca.     Exit Bianca.
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,	95
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,	100
For I have more to commune with Bianca.     Exit.
KATHERINA     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?     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	105
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	110
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	115
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.	120
HORTENSIO     I say a husband.
GREMIO     I say a devil. Thinkest 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	125
patience and mine to endure her loud alarums, why,
man, there be good fellows in the world, and 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	130
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	135
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?	140
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.
Exeunt Gremio and Hortensio.
TRANIO     I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible	145
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,	150
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.	155
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 touch’d you, naught remains but so,	160
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 look’d so longly on the maid,
Perhaps you mark’d not what’s the pith of all.	165
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 kiss’d the Cretan strand.
TRANIO
Saw you no more? Mark’d you not how her sister	170
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.	175
TRANIO     Nay, then ’tis time to stir him from his trance.
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,	180
Master, your love must live a maid at home,
And therefore has he closely mew’d her up,
Because she will not be annoy’d with suitors.
LUCENTIO     Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he!
But art thou not advis’d he took some care	185
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,	190
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,	195
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 distinguish’d by our faces
For man or master. Then it follows thus:	200
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 hatch’d, and shall be so. Tranio, at once	205
Uncase thee, take my colour’d 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.
In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,	210
And I am tied to be obedient –
For so your father charg’d me at our parting,
‘Be serviceable to my son’ quoth he,
Although I think ’twas in another sense –
I am content to be Lucentio,	215
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 thrall’d my wounded eye.
Enter BIONDELLO.
Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?	220
BIONDELLO
Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you?
Master, has my fellow Tranio stol’n your clothes,
Or you stol’n 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.	225
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
And I for my escape have put on his.
For in a quarrel since I came ashore
I kill’d a man, and fear I was descried.	230
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 chang’d into Lucentio.	235
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.	240
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,	245
Sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.
Exeunt.
[The presenters above speak.]
1 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?
PAGE     My lord, ’tis but begun.	250
SLY     ’Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady.
Would ’twere done. [They sit and mark.]

1.2 Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO.

PETRUCHIO     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.	5
GRUMIO     Knock, sir? Whom should I knock? Is there
any man has rebused your worship?
PETRUCHIO     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?	10
PETRUCHIO     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.
PETRUCHIO     Will it not be?	15
Faith, sirrah, and you’ll not knock, I’ll ring it.
I’ll try how you can solfa and sing it.
[He wrings him by the ears.]
GRUMIO     Help, masters, help! My master is mad.
PETRUCHIO     Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain.
Enter HORTENSIO.
HORTENSIO     How now, what’s the matter? My old friend	20
Grumio, and my good friend Petruchio? How do you
all at Verona?
PETRUCHIO
Signor Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.
HORTENSIO     Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato	25
signor mio Petrucio.
Rise, Grumio, rise. We will compound this quarrel.
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	30
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 knock’d at first,
Then had not Grumio come by the worst.	35
PETRUCHIO     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	40
here, knock me well, and knock me soundly’? And
come you now with ‘knocking at the gate’?
PETRUCHIO     Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
HORTENSIO     Petruchio, patience, I am Grumio’s pledge.
Why, this a heavy chance ’twixt him and you,	45
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?
PETRUCHIO
Such wind as scatters young men through the world
To seek their fortunes farther than at home,	50
Where small experience grows. But in a few,
Signor Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
Antonio, my father, is deceas’d,
And I have thrust myself into this maze,
Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.	55
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.
HORTENSIO
Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour’d wife?
Thou’dst thank me but a little for my counsel,	60
And yet I’ll promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich. But th’art too much my friend,
And I’ll not wish thee to her.
PETRUCHIO
Signor Hortensio, ’twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know	65
One rich enough to be Petruchio’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,	70
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.	75
GRUMIO     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	80
money comes withal.
HORTENSIO     Petruchio, since we are stepp’d thus far in,
I will continue that I broach’d in jest.
I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beauteous,	85
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,	90
I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
PETRUCHIO
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.	95
HORTENSIO     Her father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman.
Her name is Katherina Minola,
Renown’d in Padua for her scolding tongue.
PETRUCHIO     I know her father, though I know not her,	100
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.	105
GRUMIO     I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour
lasts. O’ my word, and 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; and he begin once, he’ll rail in	110
his rope-tricks. I’ll tell you what, sir, and 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, Petruchio, I must go with thee,	115
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,	120
Supposing it a thing impossible,
For those defects I have before rehears’d,
That ever Katherina will be woo’d.
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta’en,
That none shall have access unto Bianca	125
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 Petruchio do me grace,
And offer me disguis’d in sober robes	130
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.	135
GRUMIO     Here’s no knavery. See, to beguile the old folks,
how the young folks lay their heads together.
Enter GREMIO, and LUCENTIO disguised.
Master, master, look about you. Who goes there, ha?
HORTENSIO     Peace, Grumio. It is the rival of my love.
Petruchio, stand by awhile.	140
GRUMIO     A proper stripling and an amorous.
GREMIO     O, very well; I have perus’d 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.	145
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 perfum’d,
For she is sweeter than perfume itself	150
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 assur’d,
As firmly as yourself were still in place,
Yea, and perhaps with more successful words	155
Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
GREMIO     O this learning, what a thing it is!
GRUMIO     O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
PETRUCHIO     Peace, sirrah.
HORTENSIO
Grumio, mum! God save you, Signor Gremio.	160
GREMIO     And you are well met, Signor Hortensio.
Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
I promis’d to enquire carefully
About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca,
And by good fortune I have lighted well	165
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 promis’d me to help me to another,	170
A fine musician to instruct our mistress.
So shall I no whit be behind in duty
To fair Bianca, so belov’d of me.
GREMIO     Belov’d of me, and that my deeds shall prove.
GRUMIO     And that his bags shall prove.	175
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,	180
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?
PETRUCHIO     I know she is an irksome brawling scold.	185
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
GREMIO
No, say’st me so, friend? What countryman?
PETRUCHIO     Born in Verona, old Antonio’s son.
My father dead, my fortune lives for me,
And I do hope good days and long to see.	190
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?
PETRUCHIO     Will I live?
GRUMIO     Will he woo her? Ay, or I’ll hang her.	195
PETRUCHIO     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, puff ‘d up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?	200
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,	205
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 arriv’d,	210
My mind presumes, for his own good and yours.
HORTENSIO     I promis’d 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.	215
Enter TRANIO brave, 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.	220
GREMIO     Hark you, sir, you mean not her too?
TRANIO
Perhaps him and her, sir. What have you to do?
PETRUCHIO
Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
TRANIO     I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let’s away.
LUCENTIO
Well begun, Tranio.
HORTENSIO     Sir, a word ere you go.	225
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.	230
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.	235
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,	240
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.	245
PETRUCHIO     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	250
As is the other for beauteous modesty.
PETRUCHIO     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.
PETRUCHIO     Sir, understand you this of me in sooth,	255
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.	260
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	265
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 beholding.	270
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.	275
GRUMIO     , BIONDELLO
O excellent motion! Fellows, let’s be gone.
HORTENSIO     The motion’s good indeed, and be it so.
Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto.     Exeunt.

2.1 Enter KATHERINA and BIANCA.

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 gawds,
Unbind my hands, I’ll pull them off myself,
Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat,	5
Or what you will command me will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.
KATHERINA     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	10
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
KATHERINA     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.	15
KATHERINA     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.	20
I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
KATHERINA     If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
[Strikes her.]
Enter 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.	25
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?
KATHERINA     Her silence flouts me, and I’ll be reveng’d.
[Flies after Bianca.]
BAPTISTA     What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.	30
Exit Bianca.
KATHERINA
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,	35
Till I can find occasion of revenge. Exit.
BAPTISTA     Was ever gentleman thus griev’d as I?
But who comes here?
Enter GREMIO, LUCENTIO disguised as Cambio in the habit of a mean man; PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO disguised as Litio; and TRANIO disguised as Lucentio, with his boy BIONDELLO, bearing a lute and books.
GREMIO     Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
BAPTISTA     Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save	40
you, gentlemen.
PETRUCHIO
And you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter
Call’d Katherina, fair and virtuous?
BAPTISTA     I have a daughter, sir, call’d Katherina.
GREMIO     You are too blunt, go to it orderly.	45
PETRUCHIO
You wrong me, Signor Gremio, give me leave.
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,	50
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And for an entrance to my entertainment
I do present you with a man of mine,	55
[Presents 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 Litio, born in Mantua.	60
BAPTISTA
Y’are 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.
PETRUCHIO     I see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my company.	65
BAPTISTA     Mistake me not, I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
PETRUCHIO     Petruchio is my name, Antonio’s son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.
BAPTISTA
I know him well. You are welcome for his sake.	70
GREMIO     Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray
Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
Baccare! You are marvellous forward.
PETRUCHIO     O pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain
be doing.	75
GREMIO     I doubt it not, sir, but you will curse your
wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am
sure of it. To express the like kindness, myself, that
have been more kindly beholding to you than any,
freely give unto you this young scholar [Presents	80
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.	85
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,	90
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,	95
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,	100
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	105
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!
Enter a Servant.
Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my daughters, and tell them both	110
These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.
Exeunt Servant, Hortensio, Lucentio, Biondello.
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.
PETRUCHIO     Signor Baptista, my business asketh haste,	115
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better’d rather than decreas’d.
Then tell me, if I get your daughter’s love,	120
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.
PETRUCHIO     And for that dowry I’ll assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,	125
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 obtain’d,
That is, her love; for that is all in all.	130
PETRUCHIO     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,	135
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 arm’d for some unhappy words.	140
PETRUCHIO
Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
That shakes not, though they blow perpetually.
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?	145
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,	150
And bow’d her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
‘Frets, call you these?’ quoth she, ‘I’ll fume with them.’
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way,	155
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.	160
PETRUCHIO     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     Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;	165
She’s apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
Signor Petruchio, will you go with us,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
PETRUCHIO     I pray you do.
Exeunt all except Petruchio.
I’ll attend her here,
And woo her with some spirit when she comes.	170
Say that she rail, why then I’ll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
Say that she frown, I’ll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash’d with dew.
Say she be mute and will not speak a word,	175
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	180
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
But here she comes, and now, Petruchio, speak.
Enter KATHERINA.
Good morrow, Kate, for that’s your name, I hear.
KATHERINA
Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing;
They call me Katherine that do talk of me.	185
PETRUCHIO
You lie, in faith, for you are call’d plain Kate,
And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,	190
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation,
Hearing thy mildness prais’d in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am mov’d to woo thee for my wife.	195
KATHERINA
Mov’d, in good time! Let him that mov’d you hither
Remove you hence. I knew you at the first
You were a movable.
PETRUCHIO     Why, what’s a movable?
KATHERINA     A joint-stool.
PETRUCHIO     Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
KATHERINA     Asses are made to bear, and so are you.	200
PETRUCHIO     Women are made to bear, and so are you.
KATHERINA     No such jade as you, if me you mean.
PETRUCHIO     Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
For, knowing thee to be but young and light –
KATHERINA     Too light for such a swain as you to catch,	205
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
PETRUCHIO     Should be? Should – buzz!
KATHERINA     Well ta’en, and like a buzzard.
PETRUCHIO
O slow-wing’d turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
KATHERINA     Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
PETRUCHIO
Come, come, you wasp; i’faith, you are too angry.	210
KATHERINA     If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
PETRUCHIO     My remedy is then to pluck it out.
KATHERINA     Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PETRUCHIO
Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
In his tail.
KATHERINA     In his tongue.
PETRUCHIO     Whose tongue?	215
KATHERINA     Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
PETRUCHIO
What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
Good Kate. I am a gentleman –
KATHERINA     That I’ll try.
[She strikes him.]
PETRUCHIO     I swear I’ll cuff you, if you strike again.
KATHERINA     So may you lose your arms.	220
If you strike me, you are no gentleman,
And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
PETRUCHIO     A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
KATHERINA     What is your crest, a coxcomb?
PETRUCHIO     A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.	225
KATHERINA
No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.
PETRUCHIO
Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
KATHERINA     It is my fashion when I see a crab.
PETRUCHIO
Why, here’s no crab, and therefore look not sour.
KATHERINA     There is, there is.	230
PETRUCHIO     Then show it me.
KATHERINA     Had I a glass, I would.
PETRUCHIO     What, you mean my face?
KATHERINA     Well aim’d of such a young one.
PETRUCHIO
Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
KATHERINA     Yet you are wither’d.
PETRUCHIO     ’Tis with cares.
KATHERINA     I care not.
PETRUCHIO
Nay, hear you, Kate – in sooth, you scape not so.	235
KATHERINA     I chafe you, if I tarry. Let me go.
PETRUCHIO     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,	240
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers.
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk.
But thou with mildness entertain’st thy wooers,	245
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts and sweeter than the kernels.	250
O, let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.
KATHERINA
Go, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.
PETRUCHIO     Did ever Dian so become a grove
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,	255
And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful.
KATHERINA
Where did you study all this goodly speech?
PETRUCHIO     It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
KATHERINA     A witty mother, witless else her son.
PETRUCHIO     Am I not wise?
KATHERINA     Yes, keep you warm.	260
PETRUCHIO
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.	265
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn,
For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me.
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,	270
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO and TRANIO.
Here comes your father. Never make denial;
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
BAPTISTA
Now, Signor Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?	275
PETRUCHIO     How but well, sir? How but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAPTISTA
Why, how now, daughter Katherine? In your dumps?
KATHERINA     Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
You have show’d a tender fatherly regard	280
To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
PETRUCHIO     Father, ’tis thus: yourself and all the world
That talk’d of her have talk’d amiss of her.	285
If she be curst it is for policy,
For she’s not froward, but modest as the dove.
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn.
For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.	290
And to conclude, we have ‘greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
KATHERINA     I’ll see thee hang’d on Sunday first.
GREMIO
Hark, Petruchio, she says she’ll see thee hang’d first.
TRANIO
Is this your speeding? Nay then, good night our part.	295
PETRUCHIO
Be patient, gentlemen, I choose her for myself.
If she and I be pleas’d, what’s that to you?
’Tis bargain’d ’twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curst in company.
I tell you ’tis incredible to believe	300
How much she loves me. O, the kindest Kate!
She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices. ’Tis a world to see	305
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.	310
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, Petruchio, ’tis a match.
GREMIO, TRANIO     Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
PETRUCHIO     Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu,	315
I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace.
We will have rings, and things, and fine array,
And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o’ Sunday.
Exeunt Petruchio and Katherina.
GREMIO     Was ever match clapp’d up so suddenly?
BAPTISTA
Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,	320
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.	325
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.	330
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
Content you, gentlemen, I will compound this strife.	335
’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	340
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 stuff ‘d my crowns,
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,	345
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm	350
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am struck in years, I must confess,
And if I die tomorrow this is hers,	355
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,	360
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
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 pinch’d you, Signor Gremio?	365
GREMIO     Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
[aside] My land amounts not to so much in all. –
That she shall have, besides an argosy
That now is lying in Marseilles road.
What, have I chok’d you with an argosy?	370
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 offer’d all, I have no more,	375
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 outvied.
BAPTISTA     I must confess your offer is the best,	380
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?	385
BAPTISTA     Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolv’d: on Sunday next you know
My daughter Katherine is to be married;
Now, on the Sunday following shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;	390
If not, to Signor Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIO     Adieu, good neighbour.     Exit Baptista.
Now, I fear thee not.
Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all, and in his waning age	395
Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy!
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.     Exit.
TRANIO     A vengeance on your crafty wither’d hide!
Yet I have fac’d it with a card of ten.
’Tis in my head to do my master good.	400
I see no reason but suppos’d Lucentio
Must get a father, call’d suppos’d Vincentio.
And that’s a wonder. Fathers commonly
Do get their children; but in this case of wooing
A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.	405
Exit.

3.1 Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO and BIANCA.

LUCENTIO     Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcom’d you withal?
HORTENSIO     But, wrangling pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony.	5
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 ordain’d!	10
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.	15
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.	20
And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down.
Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
His lecture will be done ere you have tun’d.
HORTENSIO     You’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIO     That will be never. Tune your instrument.	25
BIANCA     Where left we last?
LUCENTIO     Here, madam:
Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus,
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
BIANCA     Construe them.	30
LUCENTIO     Hic 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	35
we might beguile the old pantaloon.
HORTENSIO     Madam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCA     Let’s hear. O fie! The treble jars.
LUCENTIO     Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
BIANCA     Now let me see if I can construe it: Hic ibat	40
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.	45
[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     In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
LUCENTIO     Mistrust it not – for, sure, Aeacides	50
Was Ajax, call’d 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, Litio, to you.
Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,	55
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO     [to Lucentio]
You may go walk, and give me leave a while.
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 deceiv’d,	60
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,	65
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade.
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.
BIANCA     Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIO     Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.	70
BIANCA     Gamut 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 sol re, one clef, two notes have I –	75
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.
Enter a Servant.
SERVANT
Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,	80
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.
Exeunt Bianca and Servant.
LUCENTIO     Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
Exit.
HORTENSIO     But I have cause to pry into this pedant.	85
Methinks he looks as though he were in love.
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale,
Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging,
HORTENSIO     will be quit with thee by changing.      Exit.	90