All. Amen. Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? My men should call me lord: I am your good-man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well.-What must I call her? Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else: so lords call ladies. Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd. And slept above some fifteen year and more. Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed. Sly. 'Tis much.-Servants, leave me and her alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Page. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or if not so, until the sun be set, 12 For your physicians have expressly charg'd, Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry so long; but I would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Servant. Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy; Sly. Marry, I will let them play it. Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumblingtrick? Page. No, my good lord: it is more pleasing stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Sly. Well, we'll see it. Come, madam wife, sit by my side, And let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger. SCENE I.-Padua. A Public Place. Enter LUCENTIO, and TRANIO. Luc. Tranio, since, for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd Vincentio's come of the Bentivolii. To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy : Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you. Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore, Such friends as time in Padua shall beget. Tra. Master, some show, to welcome us to town. Enter BAPTISTa, Katharina, BIANCA, GREMIO, and HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand aside. Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no further, For how I firmly am resolv'd you know; That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter, Before I have a husband for the elder. If either of you both love Katharina, Because I know you well, and love you well, Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure. Gre. To cart her rather: she's too rough for me. There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? Kath. [To BAP.] I pray you, sir, is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? Hor. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you, Unless you were of gentler, milder mould. Kath. I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear: I wis, it is not half way to her heart; But, if it were, doubt not her care should be To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool, And paint your face, and use you like a fool. Hor. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! Gre. And me too, good Lord! Tra. Hush, master! here is some good pastime toward: That wench is stark mad, or wonderful froward. Tra. Well said, master: mum! and gaze your fill. Bap. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good What I have said,--Bianca, get you in: And let it not displease thee, good Bianca, For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl. Kath. A pretty peat! it is best Put finger in the eye,-an she knew why. Bian. Sister, content you in my discontent.— Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe: My books, and instruments, shall be my company, On them to look, and practise by myself. Luc. Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak. Hor. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? Sorry am I, that our good will effects Bianca's grief. Gre. Why, will you mew her up, Signior Baptista. for this fiend of hell, And make her bear the penance of her tongue? To mine own children in good bringing-up; Gre. You may go to the devil's dam: your gifts are so good, here's none will hold you. Their love is not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly out: our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell:—yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her father. Hor. So will I, signior Gremio: but a word, I pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd parle, know now upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love, to labour and effect one thing 'specially. Gre. What's that, I pray? Hor. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister. Gre. A husband! a devil. Hor. I say, a husband. Gre. I say, a devil. Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool as to be married to hell! Hor. Tush, Gremio! though it pass your patience, and mine, to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all faults, and money enough. Gre. I cannot tell, but I had as lief take her dowry with this condition,-to be whipped at the high-cross every morning, Hor. 'Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly maintained, till by helping Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband, we set his youngest free for a husband, and then have to't afresh.-Sweet Bianca!Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you, signior Gremio? Gre. I am agreed: and 'would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing, that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her. Come on. [Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO. Tra. [Advancing.] I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible That love should of a sudden take such hold? I never thought it possible, or likely; Enter BIONDELLO. If I achieve not this young modest girl. Tra. Master, it is no time to chide you now; Affection is not rated from the heart: If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so,Redime te captum, quam queas minimo. Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound. Tra. Master, you look'd so longly on the maid, Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all. Luc. O! yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face, Such as the daughter of Agenor had, That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, Began to scold, and raise up such a storm, Tra. Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his That, till the father rid his hands of her, Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! Master, for my hand, You will be schoolmaster, It is may it be done? : Luc. Tra. Not possible; for who shall bear your part, And be in Padua, here, Vincentio's son; Keep house, and ply his book; welcome his friends; Visit his countrymen, and banquet them? Luc. Basta; content thee; for I have it full. We have not yet been seen in any house, Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces, For man, or master: then, it follows thus; Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead, Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should. I will some other be; some Florentine, Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so:-Tranio, at once Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak: When Biondello comes, he waits on thee, But I will charm him first to keep his tongue. Tra. So had you need. [They exchange habits. In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is, And I am tied to be obedient; (For so your father charg'd me at our parting; Because so well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves, And let me be a slave, t' achieve that maid Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye. Here comes the rogue.--Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now ! Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes, Bion. Bion. The better for him; 'would I were so too! Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next wish after, That Lucentio, indeed, had Baptista's youngest daughter. But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's, I advise You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies : When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; One thing more rests, that thyself execute; why, Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. [Exeunt. 1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely comes there any more of it? Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady; 'would 'twere done. SCENE II.-The Same. Before HORTENSIO'S House. Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave, Gru. Knock, sir! whom should I knock? is there any man has rebused your worship? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. Gru. Knock you here, sir? why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate; And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate. Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome.—I should knock you first, And then I know after who comes by the worst. Pet. Will it not be? 'Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it: I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it. [He wrings GRUMIO by the ears Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you: sirrah' vil lain! ACT I Enter HORTENSIO. TAMING OF THE SHREW. Hor. How now! what's the matter?-My old friend Grumio, and my good friend Petruchio!How do you all at Verona? Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core ben trovato, may I say. Hor. Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel. Pet. A senseless villain!-Good Hortensio, Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. Hor. Petruchio, patience: I am Grumio's pledge. Why this? a heavy chance 'twixt him and you; Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio. And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale Blows you to Padua, here, from old Verona? 16 Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the world, To seek their fortunes further than at home. And I have thrust myself into this maze, Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife? Pet. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we (As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance,) Gru. Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby; or an old trot |