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 musick, and the mathematicks,
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.

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 musick and mathematicks: 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 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.
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 turors; bid them use them well. [Exit Servant, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO.

4 A proverbial exclamation then in use.

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.

Pet. Signior 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 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 lands:
And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.

Pet. And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of Her widowhood, - be it that she survive me, In all my lands and leases whatsoever : Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand. Bap. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd, This is, her love; for that is all in all. Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together, They do consume the thing that feeds their fury: Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all: So I to her, and so she yields to me; For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.

Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed!

But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. Pet. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,

That shake not, though they blow perpetually.

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

Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

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

Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?

Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me. I did but tell her, she mistook her frets 5, And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering; When, with a most impatient devilish spirit, Frets, call you these? quoth she: I'll fume with them: And, with that word, she struck me on the head, And through the instrument my pate made way; And there I stood amazed for a while, As on a pillory, looking through the lute While she did call me, rascal fiddler, And-twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms, As she had studied to misuse me so.

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 married.
But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.

Enter KATHARINA.

Good-morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. Kath. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing;

They call me - Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain
Kate,

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 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 moveable.

Pet.

Kath. A joint-stool.

Why, what's a moveable?

Pet. Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me. Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you. Pet. Alas, good Kate! I will not burden thee: For, knowing thee to be but young and light, Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Pet. Should be? should buz. Kath.

Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. O, slow-winged turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

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

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

In his tail.

Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

Kath.

That I'll try.
[Striking him.
Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Kath. So may you lose your arms:

If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why, then no arms.

Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
Kath. What is your crest? a coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a
craven. 6

6 A degenerate cock.

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 courteous;
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.
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 command.
Pet. 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!
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?
Kath.

Yes.

Pet. 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: For I am he, am born to tame you, Kate; And bring you from a wild-cat to a Kate Conformable, 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 Katharine? in your dumps?

Kath. Call you me, daughter? now I promise you, You have show'd a tender fatherly regard, To wish me wed to one half lunatick; A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack, That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

. we have 'greed so well together, 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 7 so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
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; give me your hands;

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

Gre. Tra. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses. 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 KATHARINA, severally. Gre. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly? Bap. Gentlemen, now I play a merchant'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 looked 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. Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth. Tra. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth. Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I'll compound

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. First, as you, know my house within the city

Is richly furnished 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;

7 To vye and revye were terms at cards, now superseded by the word brag.

In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints 8,
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,
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 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,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old signior 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, signior Gremio?

Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year, of land! My land amounts not to so much in all : That she shall have; besides an argosy 9, That now is lying in Marseilles' road: What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?

Tra. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no less Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses', And twelve tight gallies: these I will assure her, And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.

Gre. Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; And she can have no more than all I have; If you like me, she shall have me and mine. Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,

By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied.

Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best:
And, let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own ; else, you must pardon me :
If you should die before him where's her dower?
Tra. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old?
Bap. Well, gentlemen,

I am thus resolv'd: - On Sunday next you know,
My daughter Katherine is to be married
Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to signior Gremio:

And so I take my leave, and thank you both.

[Erit. Gre. Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee not; Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool | To give thee all, and in his waning age, Set foot under thy table: Tut! a toy! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. [Exit. Tra. A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide! Yet I have faced it with a card of ten. 'Tis in my head to do my master good: — I see no reason, but suppos'd Lucentio Must get a father, call'd

suppos'd Vincentio.

8 Coverings for beds; now called counterpanes.

9 A large merchant-ship.

[Exit.

1 A vessel of burthen worked both with sails and oars.

2 The highest card.

And, to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,

And say,
If it would please him come and marry her.

Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista, too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.

Kath. 'Would Katharine had never seen him though!

[Erit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others. Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For such an injury would vex a saint, Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

Enter BioNDELLO.

Bion. Master, master ! news, old news, and such news as you never heard of!

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be? Bion. Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?

Bap. Is he come?
Bion. Why, no, sir.

Bap. What then?

Bion. He is coming.

Bap. When will he be here?

Bion. When he stands where I am, and sees you there.

Tra. But, say, what: - To thine old news. Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred: besides, possessed with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with the fashions 7, full of wind-galls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives 8, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er legg'd before, and with a half-check'd bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrained to keep | him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots: one girt six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure 9, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty 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.

Tra. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;

Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell❜d.
Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he comes.
Bion. Why, sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didst thou not say, he comes?

As I wish you were.

Not so well apparell'd

Pet. Were it better I should rush in thus. But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride? How does my father? - Gentles,methinks you frown: And wherefore gaze this goodly company ; As if they saw some wondrous monument, Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Bap. Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day: First were we sad, fearing you would not come ; Now sadder, that you come so unprovided. Fye! doff this habit, shame to your estate, An eye-sore to our solemn festival.

Tra. And tell us, what occasion of import Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
Though in some part enforced to digress;
Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
As you shall well be satisfied withal.
But, where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
Tra. See not your bride in these unreverent robes
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
Pet. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
Bap. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
Pet. Good sooth, even thus ; therefore have done
with words;

To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I can change these poor accoutrements,
Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I, to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a lovely kiss?

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMIO, and BIONDELLO.
Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.

Bap. I'll after him, and see the event of this.

[Erit.

2 Matters.