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Enter PETRUCHIO with a dish of meat, and HOR

TENSIO.

Pet. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?

Hor. Mistress, what cheer?
Kath.

'Faith, as cold as can be. Pet. Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon

me.

Here, love; thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee:
[Sets the dish on a table.
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What! not a word? Nay then, thou lov'st it not,
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.—
Here, take away this dish.

Kath.
I pray you, let it stand.
Pet. The poorest service is repaid with thanks,
And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
Kath. I thank you, sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame. Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. [Aside.] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov'st me.

[To her.] Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things;
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.
What! hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.

Enter Tailor.

Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;

Enter Haberdasher.

Lay forth the gown.-What news with you, sir?
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish-fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy.
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut shell,

A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap;
Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.

Kath. I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time, And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too;

And not till then.

Hor. [Aside.] That will not be in haste.

Kath. Why, sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak,

And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endur'd me say my mind,
And, if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart, concealing it, will break:
And, rather than it shall, I will be free,
Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
Pet. Why, thou say'st true: it is a paltry cap,
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie.

I love thee well, in that thou lik'st it not.
Kath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap,
And it I will have, or I will have none.

Pet. Thy gown? why, ay :-come, tailor, let us

see't.

O, mercy, God! what masking stuff is here? What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon: What! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart?

Here's snip, and nip, and cut, and slish, and slash, Like to a censer in a barber's shop.

Why, what, o' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this? Hor. [Aside.] I see, she's like to have neither

cap nor gown.

Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion, and the time.

Pet. Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd, I did not bid you mar it to the time. Go, hop me over every kennel home, For you shall hop without my custom, sir. I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.

Kath. I never saw a better-fashion'd gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable. Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.

Tai. She says, your worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet. O, monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,

Thou thimble,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou!—
Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread?
Away! thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard,
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st.
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
Tai. Your worship is deceiv'd: the gown is made
Just as my master had direction.
Grumio gave order how it should be done.

Gru. I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
Tai. But how did you desire it should be made?
Gru. Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
T'ai. But did you not request to have it cut?
Gru. Thou hast faced many things.

Tai.

With a trunk sleeve."
Gru. I confess two sleeves.
Tai. "The sleeves curiously cut."
Pet. Ay, there's the villainy.

Gru. Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out, and sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tai. This is true, that I say: an I had thee in place where, thou should'st know it.

Gru. I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me. Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he shall have

no odds.

Pet. Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me. Gru. You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my

mistress.

Pet. Go, take it up unto thy master's use. Gru. Villain, not for thy life! Take up my mistress' gown for thy master's use!

Pet. Why, sir, what's your conceit in that? Gru. O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for.

Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use! O, fie, fie, fie!

Pet. [Aside.] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.

Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
Hor. Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-mor-

row:

Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say; commend me to thy master.

[Exeunt Tailor and Haberdasher.

Pel. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's,

Even in these honest mean habiliments.

Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor:
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

What, is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O! no, good Kate: neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture, and mean array.
If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me;
And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father's house.—
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end,
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.-
Let's see; I think, 'tis now some seven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.

Kath. I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two,
And 'twill be supper-time, ere you come there.
Pet. It shall be seven, ere I go to horse.
Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it.-Sirs, let 't alone:
I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.

Hor. Why, so this gallant will command the sun [Exeunt.

Tra. But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista? Bion. I told him, that your father was at Venice, And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.

Tra. Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.

Here comes Baptista.-Set your countenance, sir.
Enter BAPTISTA, and LUCENTIO.
Signior Baptista, you are happily met.—
Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of.-
I pray you, stand good father to me now,
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

Ped. Soft, son!

Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
To gather in some debts, my son, Lucentio,
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And, for the good report I hear of you,
And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
And she to him, to stay him not too long,
I am content, in a good father's care,

To have him match'd; and, if you please to like
No worse than I, upon some agreement,

Me shall you find ready and willing

With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.

Bap. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
Your plainness, and your shortness please me well.
Right true it is, your son Lucentio, here,
Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,
Or both dissemble deeply their affections;
And, therefore, if you say no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him,
And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
The match is made, and all is done:
Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
Tra. I thank you, sir. Where, then, do you
know best,

We be affied, and such assurance ta'en,
As shall with either part's agreement stand?

Bap. Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know,
Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants :
Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still,
And, happily, we might be interrupted.

Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you: There doth my father lie, and there this night We'll pass the business privately and well. Send for your daughter by your servant here; My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.

The worst is this,-that, at so slender warning, You're like to have a thin and slender pittance.

Bap. It likes me well:-Cambio, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready straight; And, if you will, tell what hath happened: Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua, And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. Luc. I pray the gods she may with all my heart! Tra. Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone. Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way! Welcome: one mess is like to be your cheer. Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa. Bap. I follow you.

[Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA. Bion. Cambio!

Luc. What say'st thou, Biondello?

Bion. You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?

Luc. Biondello, what of that?

Bion. 'Faith, nothing; but he has left me here behind, to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.

Luc. I pray thee, moralize them.

Bion. Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.

Bion. The old priest at St. Luke's church, is at your command at all hours.

Luc. And what of all this?

Bion. I cannot tell, expect they are busied about a counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum. To the church!-take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses.

If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say,

But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.
Luc. Hear'st thou, Biondello?

Bion. I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so may you, sir; and so adieu, sir. My master hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix.

[Exil.

Luc. I may, and will, if she be so contented: She will be pleas'd, then wherefore should I doubt? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: It shall go hard, if Cambio go without her. [Exit.

SCENE V.-A Public Road.

Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and HORTENSIO. Pet. Come on, o' God's name : once more toward our father's.

Good lord! how bright and goodly shines the moon. Kath. The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight

now.

Pet. I say, it is the moon that shines so bright. Kath. I know, it is the sun that shines so bright. Pet. Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself, It shall be moon, or star, or what I list, Or ere I journey to your father's house.Go on, and fetch our horses back again.Evermore cross'd, and cross'd; nothing but cross'd. Hor. Say as he says, or we shall never go. Kath. Forward, I pray, since we have come so

far,

And be it moon, or sun, or what you please.

An if you please to call it a rush candle,
Henceforth, I vow, it shall be so for me.
Pet. I say, it is the moon.
Kath.
I know, it is the moon.
Pet. Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.
Kath. Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun;
But sun it is not, when you say it is not,
And the moon changes, even as your mind.
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is;
And so it shall be so for Katharine.

Hor. Petruchio, go thy ways: the field is won. Pet. Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,

And not unluckily against the bias.

But soft! company is coming here.

Enter VINCENTIO, in a travelling dress.

[To VINCENTIO.] Good-morrow, gentle mistress: where away?

Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?—
Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.—
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
Hor. 'A will make the man mad, to make a wo-
man of him.

Kath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet,

Whither away, or where is thy abode ?
Happy the parents of so fair a child;
Happier the man, whom favourable stars

Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow !

Pet. Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:

This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.

Kath. Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,

That have been so bedazzled with the sun,
That every thing I look on seemeth green.
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
Pet. Do, good old grandsire; and, withal, make
known

Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.

Vin. Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amaz'd me,
My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling-Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit

A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
Pet. What is his name?

Pet. Happily met; the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee-my loving father:
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be not griev'd: she is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Beside, so qualified as may beseem
The spouse of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio ;
And wander we to see thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

Vin. But is this true? or is it else your pleasure,
Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
Upon the company you overtake?

Hor. I do assure thee, father, so it is. Pet. Come, go along, and see the truth hereof; For our first merriment hath made thee jealous. [Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and VINCENTIO.

Hor. Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart. Have to my widow; and if she be froward, Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.

35

[Exit.

SCENE I.-Padua. Before LUCENTIO'S House. Enter on one side BIONDELLO, LUCENTIO, and BIANCA; GREMIO walking on the other side. Bion. Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.

Luc. I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home: therefore leave us.

Bion. Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and then come back to my master as soon as I can.

[Exeunt LUCENTIO, BIANCA, and BIONDELLO. Gre. I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.

Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, VINCENTIO, and Attendants.

Pet. Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house; My father's bears more toward the market-place; Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.

Vin. You shall not choose but drink before you go.

I think, I shall command your welcome here,
And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.

[Knocks. Gre. They're busy within; you were best knock louder.

Enter Pedant above, at a window.

Ped. What's he, that knocks as he would beat down the gate?

Vin. Is signior Lucentio within, sir? Ped. He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal. Vin. What, if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make merry withal?

Ped. Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall need none, so long as I live.

Pet. Nay, I told you, your son was beloved in l'adua.-Do you hear, sir? to leave frivolous cirumstances, I pray you, tell signior Lucentio, that is father is come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.

Ped. Thou liest: his father is come from Pisa, und here looking out at the window.

Vin. Art thou his father?

Ped. Ay, sir: so his mother says, if I may believe her.

Bion. I have seen them in the church together: God send 'em good shipping!-But who is here? mine old master, Vincentio! now we are undone, and brought to nothing.

Vin. Come hither, crack-hemp.

[Seeing BIONDEELO. Bion. I hope I may choose, sir. Vin. Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?

Bion. Forgot you? no, sir: I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.

Vin. What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy master's father, Vincentio ?

Bion. What, my old, worshipful old master! yes, marry, sir: see where he looks out of the window.

Vin. Is't so, indeed? [Beats BIONDELLO. Bion. Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.

[Exit. Ped. Help, son! help, signior Baptista! [Exit, from the window. Pet. Pr'ythee, Kate, let's stand aside, and see the end of this controversy. [They retire.

Re-enter Pedant below; BAPTISTA, TRANIO, and Servants.

Tra. Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my servant?

Vin. What am I, sir? nay, what are you, sir?O, immortal gods! O, fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat!O, I am undone! I am undone! while I play the good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.

Tra. How now! what's the matter?
Bap. What, is the man lunatic?

Tra. Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman.