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,
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 awhile,
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 than e'er I did:
O, 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 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.
Why, what's a moveable?

Pet.

Kath. A joint-stool.

Pet. Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me. Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you. Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you. Kath. No such jade to bear you, if me you mean. 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-wing'd 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

Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewell. Pet. What! with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again :

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

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you 'scape not [Holding her.

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 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 hazel-twig,
Is straight, and slender; and as brown in hue
As hazel 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; 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 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 Kate 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 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 moon;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;

And to conclude,-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 pact.

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,
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; but give me your hands:

God 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 KATHARINE, severally. Gre. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly? Bap. Faith, 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.
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 compound this
strife:

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

Say, 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;

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, 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 I

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:
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,
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 galleys: 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 Katharine 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. [Exit.
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,

SCENE I.-A Room in BAPTISTA'S House.
Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.
Luc. Fiddler, forbear: you grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal?

Hor. Tut, wrangling pedant! I avouch, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony:
Then, give me leave to have prerogative;
And when in music we have spent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
Luc. Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
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.

Hor. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
Bian. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
To strive for that which resteth in my choice.
I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times,
But learn my lessons as I please myself.
And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down:-
Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
His lecture will be done, ere you have tun'd.
Hor. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
[HORTENSIO retires.

Luc. That will be never:-tune your instrument. Bian. Where left we last?

Bian. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. Luc. Mistrust it not; for, sure, acides 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. [To LUCENTIO.] You may go walk, and give me leave awhile:

My lessons make no music in three parts.

Luc. Are you so formal, sir? [Aside.] Well, I must wait,

And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
Our fine musician groweth amorous.

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
To learn the order of my fingering,

I must begin with rudiments of art;

To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
And there it is in writing fairly drawn.

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 loves 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,
To change true rules for new inventions.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,

And help to dress your sister's chamber up: You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day. Bian. Farewell, sweet masters, both: I must be gone. [Exeunt BIANCA and Servant. Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. [Exit.

Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant: Methinks, he looks as though he were in love.Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale, Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit. SCENE II.-The Same. Before BAPTISTA'S House. Enter BAPTISTA, Gremio, TRANIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and Attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day That Katharine and Petruchio should be married,