her.

Gru. I would, I were as sure of a good dinAside. Enter TRANIO, bravely apparelled; and BION

ner.

Tra. For what reason, I beseech you? Gre For this reason, if you'll know,That she's the choice love of signior Gremio. Hor. That she's the chosen of signior Hor tensio.

Tra. Softly, my master! 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 Lead'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.
Gre. What! this gentleman will out-talk us
all.

Luc. Sir, give him head; I know, he'll prove a jade.

Pet. Hortensio, to what end are all these words?

Hor. Sir let me be so bold as to ask you, Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter? Tra. No, Sir; but hear I do, that he hath

And since you do profess to be a suitor,
You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
To whom we all rest generally beholden.

Tra. Sir, I shall not be slack: in sign whereof,
Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
And quaff carouses to our mistress' health;
And so as adversaries do in law,-
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
Gre. Bion. O excellent motion! Fellows,
let's begone.

Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it

Enter KATHARINA and BIANCA. Bian. Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,

To make a bondmaid and a slave of me ;
That I disdain: but for these other g. wds,t
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.

Kath Of all thy suitors, here I charge thee

tell [not. Whom thou love'st best; see thou dissemble Bian. Believe me, sister, of all the men alive, never yet beheld that special face Which I could fancy more than any other. Kath. Minion, thou liest; Is't not Hortensio ? Bian. If you affects him, sister, here I swear, i'll plead for you myself, but you shall have

him.

When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
Kath. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be
reveng'd.
Bap. What, in my

Flies after BIANEA. sight?-Bianca, get thee [Exit BIANCA. Kath. Will you not suffer me? Nay, now I

in.

see

She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance bare-foot 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.

[Exit KATHARINA, Bap. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I? But who comes here?

* Ungrateful Companions. Love,

Trifling ornaments. A worthless woman.

Gre. You are too blunt, go to it orderly.
Pet. You wrong me, signior 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 wonderous qualities, and mild behaviour,--
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,

[Presenting HORTENSIO.
Cunning in music, and the mathematics,
Toinstruct 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.

Bap. You're welcome, Sir; and he, for your good sake:

But for my daughter Katharine,---this I know, She is not for your turn, the more my grief. Pet. I see you do not mean to part with her: Or else you like not of my company.

Bap. Mistake me not, I speak but as I find. Whence are you, Sir? what may I call your name?

Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Bap. I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.

Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too: Baccare!* you are marvellous forward. Pet. O, pardon me signior Gremio: I would fain be doing.

Gre. 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 beholden to you than any, I 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.

Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio : welcome good Cambio.-But gentle Sir, [To TRANIO.] methinks, you walk like a stranger; May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

Tra. Pardon me, Sir, the boldness is mine That being a stranger in this city here, [own; 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.

• A proverbial exclamation then in use.

And, toward the education of your daughters, I here bestow a simple instrument, books: And this small packet of Greek and Latin If you accept them, then their worth is great. Bap. Lucentio, is your name? of whence, I pray?

Tra. Of Pisa, Sir; son to Vincentio.
Bap. A mighty man of Pisa; by report
I know him well: you are very welcome, Sir.--
Take you To HOR. the lute, and you To
Luc. the set of books,

You shall go see your pupils presently.
Holla, within!

Sirrah, lead

Enter a SERVANT.

These gentlemen to my daughters; and tell them both,

These are their tutors; bid them use them well. [Exit SERVANT, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and 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 yourse ves.

Pet Signior Baptista, my business asketh And every day I cannot come to woo. haste, You know 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, What dowry shall I have with her to wife?

Bap. After my death, the one half of my

with them:

Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume
[head,
And, with that word, she struck me on the
And through the instrument my pate_made
And there I stood amazed for a while, [way;
As on a pillory, looking through the lute:
While she did call me,-rascal fiddler,
And-twangling Jack;* with twenty such
vile terms,

As she had studied to misuse me so.

Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more then e'er I did: 0, how I long to have some chat with her! Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited:

Proceed in practice with my younger daughter; |
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.-
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us;
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you
Pet. I pray you do ; I will attend her here,-
[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO,
and HORTENSIO]

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 wash'd with dew:
Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word;
Then I'll commend her volubility,

And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week;
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be

hard of hearing;

They call me-Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd
plain Kate,
[curst;
And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate-hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all cates: and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;—
Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
(Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,)
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.
Kath. Mov'd in good time; let him that
mov'd you hither,
Remove you hence: I knew you at the first,
You were a movable.

Pet. Why, what's a movable?
Kath. A joint-stool.

Pet. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me. [you.
Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are
Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are
you.

Kath No such jade, Sir, as you, if me you

Kath. Ay, for a turtle: as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i'faith, you are angry.

Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. [lies. Kath, Ay, if the fool could find it where it Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting?

well.

a craven*

Pet. Nay, come, Kate,; you must not look

Kath. There is, there is.

Pet Then show it me.

Kath Had I a glass, I would.

Pet. What, you mean my face?

Kath. Well aim'd oft such a young one.

Pet. Now, by Saint George, I am too young

for you,

Kath. Yet you are wither'd.

Pet. 'Tis with cares.

Kath. I care not.

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate in sooth you 'scape not so.

Kath I chafe you, if I tarry: let me go. Pet. 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 cour-
teous;
[flowers:
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time
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 slanderous world! Kate, like the hazle-twig,
Is straight and slender; and as brown in hue
As hazle nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.

Kath Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st com.
mand.

Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove, As Kate this chamber with her princely gait? O, be thou Diau, and let her be Kate; And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful! Kath. Where did you study all this goodly

speech ?

Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit. Kath. A witty mother! witless else her son. Pet. Am I not wise?

* A degenerate cock.

By

Kath. Yes; keep you warm.
Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, in
thy bed:

And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms:-Your father hath con-
sented
[on;
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed
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:
For I am he, am born to tame you, Kate;
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate
Comfortable, as other household Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.
Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO.
Bap. Now,

Signior Petruchio: How speed you with
My daughter?

Pet How but well, Sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katherine?
in your dumps?

Kath. Call you me daughter? now I promise

you,

You have shew'd a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pet. Father 'tis thus,-yourself and all the
world,

That talk'd of her, have talk'd 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;
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;
And to conclude,-we have 'greed so well to-
gether,

That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

Kath I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first. Gre. Hark, Petruchio! she says, she'll see thee hang'd first

Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!

Pet. 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
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,t
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 Katharine shall be fine.
Bap. I know not what to say, bu give me
your hands;

God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.

Gre. Tra. Amen, say we; we will be wit

nesses.

Pet. 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' [Exeunt Petruchio and Katharine, severally. Gre. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly. Bap. Faith, gentleman, now I play a mer. chant's part.

And venture madly on a desperate mart.

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: "Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas. Bap. The gain I seek is quiet in the match. Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch. But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter; Now is the day we long have look'd for; I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.

Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love so dear

as I.

Tra. Grey-beard! thy love doth freeze.
Gre. But thine doth fry.

Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth. Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.

Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I'll com pound this strife:

'Tis deeds, must win the prize; and he, of both, That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.

Say, signior Gremio, what can you assure her? Gre. Frist, as you know, my house within the city,

Is richly fu nish'd with plate and gold;
Basons, 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,*
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or housekeeping: then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore 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 to-morrow, this is hers,
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine.

Tra. 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,
Il'l leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old signior Gremio has in Padua ;
of fruitful land, all which shall be her join.
Besides two thousand ducats by the year,

ture.

Bian. Where left we last?

Luc. Here, madam:

Hac ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus,
Hic stelerat Priami regia celsa senis.
Bian. Construe them.

Luc. Hac ibat, as I told you before,-Simois, I am Lucentio,-hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa,-Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love;-Hic steterat, and that Lucentio that comes a wooing,-Priami, is my man Tranio,-regia, bearing my port,—celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.* Hor. Madam, my instrument's in tune. Returning. [HORTENSIO plays.

Bian. Let's hear;O fie! the treble jars.

Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. Bian. Now let me see if I can construe it: Hac ibat Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you not;-Hic steterat Priami, take heed he hear us not;-regia, presume not; -celsa senis, despair not.

Hor. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
Luc. All but the base.

Hor. The base is right; 'tis the base knave
that jars.

How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
Pedascule,f I'll watch you better yet.

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, Æecides Was Ajax,-call'd so from his grandfather. Bian I must believe my master; else, I promise you,

I should be arguing still upon that doubt:
But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:-
Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both:
Hor. You may go walk, [To LUCENTIO] and
give me leave awhile;
My lesson make no music in three parts.
Luc. Are you so formal, Sir? well, I must
wait,

And watch withal: for, but I be deceiv'd,
Our fine musician growth amororous. [Aside.
Hor. Madam, before you touch the instru
ment,

To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art;
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.

Bian. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
Hor. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
Bian. [Reads.] Gamut I am, the ground of all
accord.

A re, to plead Hortensio's passion;
B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord,

C faut, that love's with all affection;
D sol re, one cliff, 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,t
To change true rules for odd inventions,