SCENE I. Padua. A room in BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.]
LUCENTIO.
Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcome'd you withal?
HORTENSIO.
But, wrangling pedant, 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.
LUCENTIO.
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.
HORTENSIO.
Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCA.
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.
HORTENSIO.
You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
[Retires.]
LUCENTIO.
That will be never: tune your instrument.
BIANCA.
Where left we last?
LUCENTIO.
Here, madam:--
Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
BIANCA.
Construe them.
LUCENTIO.
'Hic ibat,' as I told you before, 'Simois,' I am Lucentio, 'hic
est,' son unto Vincentio of Pisa, 'Sigeia tellus,' disguised thus
to get your love, 'Hic steterat,' and that Lucentio that comes
a-wooing, 'Priami,' is my man Tranio, 'regia,' bearing my port,
'celsa senis,' that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
HORTENSIO. {Returning.]
Madam, my instrument's in tune.
BIANCA.
Let's hear.--
[HORTENSIO plays.]
O fie! the treble jars.
LUCENTIO.
Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
BIANCA.
Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat Simois,' I
know you not; 'hic est Sigeia tellus,' I trust you not; 'Hic
steterat Priami,' take heed he hear us not; 'regia,' presume not;
'celsa senis,' despair not.
HORTENSIO.
Madam, 'tis now in tune.
LUCENTIO.
All but the base.
HORTENSIO.
The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
How fiery and forward our pedant is!
[Aside] Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
BIANCA.
In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
LUCENTIO.
Mistrust it not; for sure, AEacides
Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
BIANCA.
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 master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO.
[To LUCENTIO] You may go walk and give me leave awhile;
My lessons make no music in three parts.
LUCENTIO.
Are you so formal, sir?
[Aside] Well, I must wait,
And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIO.
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.
BIANCA.
Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIO.
Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
BIANCA.
'Gamut' I am, the ground of all accord,
'A re,' to plead Hortensio's passion;
'B mi,' Bianca, take him for thy lord,
'C fa ut,' that loves with all affection:
'D sol re,' one clef, 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 odd inventions.
[Enter a SERVANT.]
SERVANT.
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.
BIANCA.
Farewell, sweet masters, both: I must be gone.
[Exeunt BIANCA and SERVANT.]
LUCENTIO.
Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
[Exit.]
HORTENSIO.
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 wand'ring 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, KATHERINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO, and
ATTENDANTS.]
BAPTISTA. [To TRANIO.]
Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
That Katherine and Petruchio should be married,
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
What will be said? What mockery will it be
To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
KATHERINA.
No shame but mine; I must, forsooth, be forc'd
To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
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 invited, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Katherine,
And say 'Lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.'
TRANIO.
Patience, good Katherine, 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.
KATHERINA.
Would Katherine had never seen him though!
[Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others.]
BAPTISTA.
Go, girl, I cannot blame thee now to weep,
For such an injury would vex a very saint;
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
[Enter BIONDELLO.]
Master, master! News! old news, and such news as you never heard
of!
BAPTISTA.
Is it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLO.
Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?
BAPTISTA.
Is he come?
BIONDELLO.
Why, no, sir.
BAPTISTA.
What then?
BIONDELLO.
He is coming.
BAPTISTA.
When will he be here?
BIONDELLO.
When he stands where I am and sees you there.
TRANIO.
But, say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLO.
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 armoury, with a broken hilt,
and chapeless; with two broken points: his horse hipped with an
old mothy saddle and 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, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, swayed in
the back and shoulder-shotten; near-legged before, and with a
half-checked 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 girth 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
pack-thread.
BAPTISTA.
Who comes with him?
BIONDELLO.
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' prick'd in't for a feather: a
monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
TRANIO.
'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd.
BAPTISTA.
I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
BIONDELLO.
Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA.
Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO.
Who? that Petruchio came?
BAPTISTA.
Ay, that Petruchio came.
BIONDELLO.
No, sir; I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
BAPTISTA.
Why, that's all one.
BIONDELLO.
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.]
PETRUCHIO.
Come, where be these gallants? Who is at home?
BAPTISTA.
You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCHIO.
And yet I come not well.
BAPTISTA.
And yet you halt not.
TRANIO.
Not so well apparell'd
As I wish you were.
PETRUCHIO.
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?
BAPTISTA.
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.
Fie! doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eye-sore to our solemn festival.
TRANIO.
And tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCHIO.
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.
TRANIO.
See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCHIO.
Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.
BAPTISTA.
But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCHIO.
Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' 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 BIODELLO.]
TRANIO.
He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
BAPTISTA.
I'll after him and see the event of this.
[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO and ATTENDENTS.]
TRANIO.
But to her love concerneth us to add
Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
As I before imparted to your worship,
I am to get a man,--whate'er he be
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.
LUCENTIO.
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.
TRANIO.
That by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business.
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?
GREMIO.
As willingly as e'er I came from school.
TRANIO.
And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIO.
A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed,
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIO.
Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible.
GREMIO.
Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIO.
Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
GREMIO.
Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him.
I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
'Ay, by gogs-wouns' quoth he, and swore so loud
That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
And as he stoop'd again to take it up,
The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
That down fell priest and book, and book and priest:
'Now take them up,' quoth he 'if any list.'
TRANIO.
What said the wench, when he rose again?
GREMIO.
Trembled and shook, for why, he stamp'd and swore
As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face,
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck,
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the church did echo.
And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
Such a mad marriage never was before.
Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.
[Music.]
[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO,
GRUMIO, and Train.]
PETRUCHIO.
Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
I know you think to dine with me to-day,
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.
BAPTISTA.
Is't possible you will away to-night?
PETRUCHIO.
I must away to-day before night come.
Make it no wonder: if you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go than stay.
And, honest company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away myself
To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
For I must hence; and farewell to you all.
TRANIO.
Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
PETRUCHIO.
It may not be.
GREMIO.
Let me entreat you.
PETRUCHIO.
It cannot be.
KATHERINA.
Let me entreat you.
PETRUCHIO.
I am content.
KATHERINA.
Are you content to stay?
PETRUCHIO.
I am content you shall entreat me stay;
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
KATHERINA.
Now, if you love me, stay.
PETRUCHIO.
Grumio, my horse!
GRUMIO.
Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses.
KATHERINA.
Nay, then,
Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom
That take it on you at the first so roundly.
PETRUCHIO.
O Kate! content thee: prithee be not angry.
KATHERINA.
I will be angry: what hast thou to do?
Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
GREMIO.
Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.
KATHERINA.
Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
I see a woman may be made a fool,
If she had not a spirit to resist.
PETRUCHIO.
They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves:
But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
I will be master of what is mine own.
She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,
My household stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything;
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a million.
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and GRUMIO.]
BAPTISTA.
Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.
GREMIO.
Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.
TRANIO.
Of all mad matches, never was the like.
LUCENTIO.
Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
BIANCA.
That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
GREMIO.
I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
BAPTISTA.
Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants
For to supply the places at the table,
You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place;
And let Bianca take her sister's room.
TRANIO.
Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
BAPTISTA.
She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
[Exeunt.]
