Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:
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,
And say,-Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.

As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too; And wherefore gaze this goodly company;
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!

[Exit, 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.

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.

Tru. 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.
Bup. 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 1, to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a lovely kiss?

Tra. But, say, what :-To thine old news. Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turned; 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, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots; swayed in the back, and shoulder-shotten; ne'er-legged before, and with a Tra. But, sir, to her love concerneth us to add half-checked bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; Her father's liking: Which to bring to pass, which, being restrained to keep him from stum-As I before imparted to your worship, bling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with I am to get a man,-whate'er he be, knots: one girt six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure, 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.

[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. [Exit.

It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn,—
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa;
And make assurance, here in Padua,
Of greater sums than I have promised.
So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

Luc. Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
"Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
Which once perform'd, let all the world say-no,
I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
Tra. That by degrees we mean to look into,

Tra. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this And watch our vantage in this business:
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?
Bion. Who? that Petruchio came?

Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, sir; I say, his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.

Enter Petruchio and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home ?

Bap. You are welcome, sir.

We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
The narrow-prying father, Minola;
The quaint musician, amorous Licio;
All for my master's sake, Lucentio.-
Re-enter Gremio.

Signior Gremio! came you from the church?
Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
Tra. And is the bride and bridegroom coming
home?

Gre. A bridegroom, say you? 'tis a groom, in-
deed,

A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
Tra. Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
Tra. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam
Gre. Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him
I'll tell you, sir Lucentio; When the priest

Pet. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your SCENE I.-A Hall in Petruchio's Country House. I know, you think to dine with me to-day, [pains: And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer; But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

Gru. Out of their saddles into the dirt; And And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i'the heel; thereby hangs a tale.

Curt. Do you hear, ho? you must meet my Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I ?-master, to countenance my mistress.

Pet. 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat:
What dogs are these?- Where is the rascal cook?

Gru. Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,

Pet. Thus have I politickly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully:

My falcon now is sharp, and passing empty :
And, till she stoop, she must not be full-gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites,
That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not.
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
I'll find about the making of the bed;
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets :-
Ay, and amid this hurly, I intend,
That all is done in reverend care of her;
And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night:
And, if she chance to nod, I'll rail and brawl,
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong hu-

SCENE II.-Padua. Before Baptista's House.
Enter Tranio and Hortensio.

Tra. Is't possible, friend Licio, that Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio ?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.

Hor. Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching.
[They stand aside.
Enter Bianca and Lucentio.

Luc. Now, mistress, profit you in what you read ?
Bian. What, master, read you? first resolve me
that.

Luc. I read that I profess, the art to love.
Bian. And may you prove, sir, master of your

art!

Luc. While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of
my heart.
[They retire.
Hor. Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I

pray,

You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca
Lov'd none in the world so well as Lucentio.

Tra. Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!

Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love;
And have forsworn you with Hortensio.

Bian. Tranio, you jest; But have you both for-
sworn me?

Tra. Mistress, we have.

Tra.

What is he, Biondello?
Bion. Master, a mercatante, or a pedant,
I know not what; but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
Luc. And what of him, Tranio ?
Tra. If he be credulous, and trust my tale,
I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio;
And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
As if he were the right Vincentio.
Take in your love, and then let me alone.

[Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca. Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God save you, sir!
Tra.
And you, sir! you are welcome.
Travel you far on, or are you at the furthest?
Ped. Sir, at the furthest for a week or two:
But then up further; and as far as Rome;
And so to Tripoly, if God lend me life.
Tra. What countryman, I pray?

Ped.

Of Mantua.

Tra. Of Mantua, sir ?-marry, God forbid!
come to Padua, careless of your life?
Ped. My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes

Tra. O despiteful love! unconstant woman-And kind!

I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor. Mistake no more: I am not Licio,
Nor a musician, as I seem to be;

But one that seorn to live in this disguise,
For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
And makes a god of such a cullion:
Know, sir, that I am call'd-Hortensio.

Tra. Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
Of your entire affection to Bianca ;

And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
i will with you, if you be so contented,-
Forswear Bianca, and her love for ever.

Hor. See, how they kiss and court!--Signior
Lucentio,

Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow-
Never to woo her more; but do forswear her,
As one unworthy all the former favours
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
Ne'er to marry with her though she would entreat:
Fye on her! see, how beastly she doth court him.
Hor. 'Would, all the world, but he, had quite
forsworn!

For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
I will be married to a wealthy widow

hard.

Tra. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua; Know you not the cause?
Your ships are staid at Venice; and the duke
(For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,)
Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
'Tis marvel; but that you're but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
Ped. Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.
Tra. Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this will I advise you :
First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
Ped. Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been :
l'isa, renowned for grave citizens.

Tra. Among them, know you one Vincentio ?
Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him;

A merchant of incomparable wealth.

Tra. He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyster, and
all one.
[Aside.

Tra. To save your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for his sake;

Ere three days pass; which hath as long lov'd me, And think it not the worst of all your fortunes,

That you are like to sir Vincentio.
His name and credit shall you undertake,
And in my house you shall be friendly lodg'd ;—
Look, that you take upon you as you should;
You understand me, sir;-so shall you stay
Till you have done your business in the city :
If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.

Ped. O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.

Tra. Then go with me, to make the matter
good.

This, by the way, I let you understand;-
My father is here look'd for every day,
To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
Go with me, sir, to clothe you as becomes you.

[Exeunt. SCENE III-A Room in Petruchio's House. Enter Katharina and Grumio.

Gru. No, no; forsooth, I dare not, for my life.
Kath. The more my wrong, the more his spite

appears:

What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty, have a present alms;

If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I,who never knew how to entreat,-
Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed:
And that which spites me more than all these

wants,

He does it under name of perfect love;
As who should say,-if I should sleep, or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death.-
I pr'ythee, go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
Gru. What say you to a neat's foot?
Kath. 'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee let me

have it.

Gru. I fear, it is too cholerick a meat:-
How say you to a fat tripe, finely broil'd?
Kath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
Gru. I cannot tell; I fear, 'tis cholerick.
What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard?
Kath. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
Kath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard

rest.

Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard,

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Kath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef.
Kath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding
slave,
[Beats him.
That feed'st me with the very name of meat:
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you,
That triumph thus upon my misery!
Go, get thee gone, I say.

Enter Petruchio, with a dish of meat; and

Hortensio.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fye! you are to blame!
Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
Pet. Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov'st me.—
[Aside.

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 ;-fye, fye! 'tis lewd and filthy;
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnutshell,

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
And not till then.
[too,
Hor.
That will not be in haste. [Aside.
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. I see, she's like to have neither cap nor
gown.
Aside.

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 commend-
able:

Pet. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.
amort ?

Hor. Mistress, what cheer ?

Kath.

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

me.

Here, love; thou see'st 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.

'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.

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 1 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 deceived; the gown is

made