Chapter 49

Kate. Mou'd, in good time, let him that mou'd you hether Remoue you hence: I knew you at the first You were a mouable

Pet. Why, what's a mouable? Kat. A ioyn'd stoole

Pet. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me

Kate. Asses are made to beare, and so are you

Pet. Women are made to beare, and so are you

Kate. No such Iade as you, if me you meane

Pet. Alas good Kate, I will not burthen thee, For knowing thee to be but yong and light

Kate. Too light for such a swaine as you to catch, And yet as heauie as my waight should be

Pet. Shold be, should: buzze

Kate. Well tane, and like a buzzard

Pet. Oh slow-wing'd Turtle, shal a buzard take thee? Kat. I for a Turtle, as he takes a buzard

Pet. Come, come you Waspe, y'faith you are too angrie

Kate. If I be waspish, best beware my sting

Pet. My remedy is then to plucke it out

Kate. I, if the foole could finde it where it lies

Pet. Who knowes not where a Waspe does weare his sting? In his taile

Kate. In his tongue? Pet. Whose tongue

Kate. Yours if you talke of tales, and so farewell

Pet. What with my tongue in your taile. Nay, come againe, good Kate, I am a Gentleman, Kate. That Ile trie.

She strikes him

Pet. I sweare Ile cuffe you, if you strike againe

Kate. So may you loose your armes, If you strike me, you are no Gentleman, And if no Gentleman, why then no armes

Pet. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy bookes

Kate. What is your Crest, a Coxcombe? Pet. A comblesse Cocke, so Kate will be my Hen

Kate. No Cocke of mine, you crow too like a crauen Pet. Nay come Kate, come: you must not looke so sowre

Kate. It is my fashion when I see a Crab

Pet. Why heere's no crab, and therefore looke not sowre

Kate. There is, there is

Pet. Then shew it me

Kate. Had I a glasse, I would

Pet. What, you meane my face

Kate. Well aym'd of such a yong one

Pet. Now by S[aint]. George I am too yong for you

Kate. Yet you are wither'd

Pet. 'Tis with cares

Kate. I care not

Pet. Nay heare you Kate. Insooth you scape not so

Kate. I chafe you if I tarrie. Let me go

Pet. No, not a whit, I finde you passing gentle: 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I finde report a very liar: For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech: yet sweet as spring-time flowers. Thou canst not frowne, thou canst not looke a sconce, Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will, Nor hast thou pleasure to be crosse in talke: But thou with mildnesse entertain'st thy wooers, With gentle conference, soft, and affable. Why does the world report that Kate doth limpe? Oh sland'rous world: Kate like the hazle twig Is straight, and slender, and as browne in hue As hazle nuts, and sweeter then the kernels: Oh let me see thee walke: thou dost not halt

Kate. Go foole, and whom thou keep'st command

Pet. Did euer Dian so become a Groue As Kate this chamber with her princely gate: O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate, And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportfull

Kate. Where did you study all this goodly speech? Petr. It is extempore, from my mother wit

Kate. A witty mother, witlesse else her sonne

Pet. Am I not wise? Kat. Yes, keepe you warme

Pet. Marry so I meane sweet Katherine in thy bed: And therefore setting all this chat aside, Thus in plaine termes: 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 turne, 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, Enter Baptista, Gremio, Trayno.

For I am he am borne to tame you Kate, And bring you from a wilde Kate to a Kate Conformable as other houshold Kates: Heere comes your father, neuer make deniall, I must, and will haue Katherine to my wife

Bap. Now Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter? Pet. How but well sir? how but well? It were impossible I should speed amisse

Bap. Why how now daughter Katherine, in your dumps? Kat. Call you me daughter? now I promise you You haue shewd a tender fatherly regard, To wish me wed to one halfe Lunaticke, A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Iacke, That thinkes with oathes to face the matter out

Pet. Father, 'tis thus, your selfe and all the world That talk'd of her, haue talk'd amisse of her: If she be curst, it is for pollicie, For shee's not froward, but modest as the Doue, Shee is not hot, but temperate as the morne, For patience shee will proue a second Grissell, And Romane Lucrece for her chastitie: And to conclude, we haue greed so well together, That vpon sonday is the wedding day

Kate. Ile see thee hang'd on sonday first

Gre. Hark Petruchio, she saies shee'll see thee hang'd first

Tra. Is this your speeding? nay the[n] godnight our part

Pet. Be patient gentlemen, I choose her for my selfe, If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you? 'Tis bargain'd twixt vs twaine being alone, That she shall still be curst in company. I tell you 'tis incredible to beleeue How much she loues me: oh the kindest Kate, Shee hung about my necke, and kisse on kisse Shee vi'd so fast, protesting oath on oath, That in a twinke she won me to her loue. Oh you are nouices, 'tis a world to see How tame when men and women are alone, A meacocke wretch can make the curstest shrew: Giue me thy hand Kate, I will vnto Venice To buy apparell 'gainst the wedding day; Prouide the feast father, and bid the guests, I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine

Bap. I know not what to say, but giue me your ha[n]ds, God send you ioy, Petruchio, 'tis a match

Gre. Tra. Amen say we, we will be witnesses

Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen adieu, I will to Venice, sonday comes apace, We will haue rings, and things, and fine array, And kisse me Kate, we will be married a sonday.

Exit Petruchio and Katherine.

Gre. Was euer match clapt vp so sodainly? Bap. Faith Gentlemen now I play a marchants part, And venture madly on a desperate Mart

Tra. Twas a commodity lay fretting by you, 'Twill bring you gaine, or perish on the seas

Bap. The gaine I seeke, is quiet me the match

Gre. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch: But now Baptista, to your yonger daughter, Now is the day we long haue looked for, I am your neighbour, and was suter first

Tra. And I am one that loue Bianca more Then words can witnesse, or your thoughts can guesse

Gre. Yongling thou canst not loue so deare as I

Tra. Gray-beard thy loue doth freeze

Gre. But thine doth frie, Skipper stand backe, 'tis age that nourisheth

Tra. But youth in Ladies eyes that florisheth

Bap. Content you gentlemen, I wil co[m]pound this strife 'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall haue my Biancas loue. 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 laue her dainty hands: My hangings all of tirian tapestry: In Iuory cofers I haue stuft my crownes: In Cypres chests my arras counterpoints, Costly apparell, tents, and Canopies, Fine Linnen, Turky cushions bost with pearle, Vallens of Venice gold, in needle worke: Pewter and brasse, and all things that belongs To house or house-keeping: then at my farme I haue a hundred milch-kine to the pale, Sixe-score fat Oxen standing in my stalls, And all things answerable to this portion. My selfe am strooke in yeeres I must confesse, And if I die to morrow this is hers, If whil'st I liue she will be onely mine

Tra. That only came well in: sir, list to me, I am my fathers heyre and onely sonne, If I may haue your daughter to my wife, Ile leaue her houses three or foure as good Within rich Pisa walls, as any one Old Signior Gremio has in Padua, Besides, two thousand Duckets by the yeere Of fruitfull land, all which shall be her ioynter. What, haue I pincht you Signior Gremio? Gre. Two thousand Duckets by the yeere of land, My Land amounts not to so much in all: That she shall haue, besides an Argosie That now is lying in Marcellus roade: What, haue I choakt you with an Argosie? Tra. Gremio, 'tis knowne my father hath no lesse Then three great Argosies, besides two Galliasses And twelue tite Gallies, these I will assure her, And twice as much what ere thou offrest next

Gre. Nay, I haue offred all, I haue no more, And she can haue no more then all I haue, If you like me, she shall haue me and mine

Tra. Why then the maid is mine from all the world By your firme promise, Gremio is out-vied

Bap. I must confesse your offer is the best, And let your father make her the assurance, Shee is your owne, else you must pardon me: If you should die before him, where's her dower? Tra. That's but a cauill: he is olde, I young

Gre. And may not yong men die as well as old? Bap. Well gentlemen, I am thus resolu'd, On sonday next, you know My daughter Katherine is to be married: Now on the sonday following, shall Bianca Be Bride to you, if you make this assurance: If not, to Signior Gremio: And so I take my leaue, and thanke you both. Enter.

Gre. Adieu good neighbour: now I feare thee not: Sirra, yong gamester, your father were a foole To giue thee all, and in his wayning age Set foot vnder thy table: tut, a toy, An olde Italian foxe is not so kinde my boy. Enter.

Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide, Yet I haue fac'd it with a card of ten: 'Tis in my head to doe my master good: I see no reason but suppos'd Lucentio Must get a father, call'd suppos'd Vincentio, And that's a wonder: fathers commonly Doe get their children: but in this case of woing, A childe shall get a sire, if I faile not of my cunning. Enter.

Actus Tertia.

Enter Lucentio, Hortentio, and Bianca.

Luc. Fidler forbeare, you grow too forward Sir, Haue you so soone forgot the entertainment Her sister Katherine welcom'd you withall

Hort. But wrangling pedant, this is The patronesse of heauenly harmony: Then giue me leaue to haue prerogatiue, And when in Musicke we haue spent an houre, Your Lecture shall haue leisure for as much

Luc. Preposterous Asse that neuer read so farre, To know the cause why musicke was ordain'd: Was it not to refresh the minde of man After his studies, or his vsuall paine? Then giue me leaue to read Philosophy, And while I pause, serue in your harmony

Hort. Sirra, I will not beare these braues of thine

Bianc. Why gentlemen, you doe me double wrong, To striue for that which resteth in my choice: I am no breeching scholler in the schooles, Ile not be tied to howres, nor pointed times, But learne my Lessons as I please my selfe, And to cut off all strife: heere sit we downe, Take you your instrument, play you the whiles, His Lecture will be done ere you haue tun'd

Hort. You'll leaue his Lecture when I am in tune? Luc. That will be neuer, tune your instrument

Bian. Where left we last? Luc. Heere Madam: Hic Ibat Simois, hic est sigeria tellus, hic steterat Priami regia Celsa senis

Bian. Conster them

Luc. Hic Ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lucentio, hic est, sonne vnto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeria tellus, disguised thus to get your loue, 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 Pantalowne

Hort. Madam, my Instrument's in tune

Bian. Let's heare, oh fie, the treble iarres

Luc. Spit in the hole man, and tune againe

Bian. Now let mee see if I can conster it. Hic ibat simois, I know you not, hic est sigeria tellus, I trust you not, hic staterat priami, take heede he heare vs not, regia presume not, Celsa senis, despaire not

Hort. Madam, tis now in tune

Luc. All but the base

Hort. The base is right, 'tis the base knaue that iars

Luc. How fiery and forward our Pedant is, Now for my life the knaue doth court my loue, Pedascule, Ile watch you better yet: In time I may beleeue, yet I mistrust

Bian. Mistrust it not, for sure Aeacides Was Aiax cald so from his grandfather

Hort. I must beleeue my master, else I promise you, I should be arguing still vpon that doubt, But let it rest, now Litio to you: Good master take it not vnkindly pray That I haue beene thus pleasant with you both

Hort. You may go walk, and giue me leaue a while, My Lessons make no musicke in three parts

Luc. Are you so formall sir, well I must waite And watch withall, for but I be deceiu'd, Our fine Musitian groweth amorous

Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument, To learne the order of my fingering, I must begin with rudiments of Art, To teach you gamoth in a briefer sort, More pleasant, pithy, and effectuall, Then hath beene taught by any of my trade, And there it is in writing fairely drawne

Bian. Why, I am past my gamouth long agoe

Hor. Yet read the gamouth of Hortentio

Bian. Gamouth I am, the ground of all accord: Are, to plead Hortensio's passion: Beeme, Bianca take him for thy Lord Cfavt, that loues with all affection: D sol re, one Cliffe, two notes haue I, Ela mi, show pitty or I die, Call you this gamouth? tut I like it not, Old fashions please me best, I am not so nice To charge true rules for old inuentions. Enter a Messenger.

Nicke. Mistresse, your father prayes you leaue your books, And helpe to dresse your sisters chamber vp, You know to morrow is the wedding day

Bian. Farewell sweet masters both, I must be gone

Luc. Faith Mistresse then I haue no cause to stay

Hor. But I haue cause to pry into this pedant, Methinkes he lookes as though he were in loue: Yet if thy thoughts Bianca be so humble To cast thy wandring eyes on euery stale: Seize thee that List, if once I finde thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. Enter.

Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the pointed day That Katherine and Petruchio should be married, And yet we heare not of our sonne in Law: What will be said, what mockery will it be? To want the Bride-groome when the Priest attends To speake the ceremoniall rites of marriage? What saies Lucentio to this shame of ours? Kate. No shame but mine, I must forsooth be forst To giue my hand oppos'd against my heart Vnto a mad-braine rudesby, full of spleene, Who woo'd in haste, and meanes to wed at leysure: I told you I, he was a franticke foole, Hiding his bitter iests in blunt behauiour, And to be noted for a merry man; Hee'll wooe a thousand, point the day of marriage, Make friends, inuite, and proclaime the banes, Yet neuer meanes to wed where he hath woo'd: Now must the world point at poore Katherine, And say, loe, there is mad Petruchio's wife If it would please him come and marry her

Tra. Patience good Katherine and Baptista too, Vpon my life Petruchio meanes but well, What euer fortune stayes him from his word, Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise, Though he be merry, yet withall he's honest

Kate. Would Katherine had neuer seen him though.

Exit weeping.

Bap. Goe girle, I cannot blame thee now to weepe, For such an iniurie would vexe a very saint, Much more a shrew of impatient humour. Enter Biondello.

Bion. Master, master, newes, and such newes as you neuer heard of, Bap. Is it new and olde too? how may that be? Bion. Why, is it not newes to heard of Petruchio's comming? Bap. Is he come? Bion. Why no sir

Bap. What then? Bion. He is comming

Bap. When will he be heere? Bion. When he stands where I am, and sees you there

Tra. But say, what to thine olde newes? Bion. Why Petruchio is comming, in a new hat and an old ierkin, a paire of old breeches thrice turn'd; a paire of bootes that haue beene candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd: an olde rusty sword tane out of the Towne Armory, with a broken hilt, and chapelesse: with two broken points: his horse hip'd with an olde mothy saddle, and stirrops of no kindred: besides possest with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine, troubled with the Lampasse, infected with the fashions, full of Windegalls, sped with Spauins, raied with the Yellowes, past cure of the Fiues, starke spoyl'd with the Staggers, begnawne with the Bots, Waid in the backe, and shoulder-shotten, neere leg'd before, and with a halfe-chekt Bitte, & a headstall of sheepes leather, which being restrain'd to keepe him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots: one girth sixe times peec'd, and a womans Crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairely set down in studs, and heere and there peec'd with packthred

Bap. Who comes with him? Bion. Oh sir, his Lackey, for all the world Caparison'd like the horse: with a linnen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartred with a red and blew list; an old hat, & the humor of forty fancies prickt in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparell, & not like a Christian foot-boy, or a gentlemans Lacky

Tra. 'Tis some od humor pricks him to this fashion, Yet oftentimes he goes but meane apparel'd

Bap. I am glad he's come, howsoere he comes

Bion. Why sir, he comes not

Bap. Didst thou not say hee comes? Bion. Who, that Petruchio came? Bap. I, that Petruchio came

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

Bap. Why that's all one

Bion. Nay by S[aint]. Iamy, I hold you a penny, a horse and a man is more then one, and yet not many. Enter Petruchio and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who's at home? Bap. You are welcome sir

Petr. And yet I come not well

Bap. And yet you halt not

Tra. Not so well apparell'd as I wish you were

Petr. Were it better I should rush in thus: But where is Kate? where is my louely Bride? How does my father? gentles methinkes you frowne, And wherefore gaze this goodly company, As if they saw some wondrous monument, Some Commet, or vnusuall prodigie? 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 vnprouided: Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate, An eye-sore to our solemne festiuall

Tra. And tell vs what occasion of import Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, And sent you hither so vnlike your selfe? Petr. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to heare, Sufficeth I am come to keepe my word, Though in some part inforced to digresse, Which at more leysure I will so excuse, As you shall well be satisfied with all. But where is Kate? I stay too long from her, The morning weares, 'tis time we were at Church

Tra. See not your Bride in these vnreuerent robes, Goe to my chamber, put on clothes of mine

Pet. Not I, beleeue me, thus Ile visit her

Bap. But thus I trust you will not marry her

Pet. Good sooth euen thus: therefore ha done with words, To me she's married, not vnto my cloathes: Could I repaire what she will weare in me, As I can change these poore accoutrements, 'Twere well for Kate, and better for my selfe. But what a foole am I to chat with you, When I should bid good morrow to my Bride? And seale the title with a louely kisse. Enter.

Tra. He hath some meaning in his mad attire, We will perswade him be it possible, To put on better ere he goe to Church

Bap. Ile after him, and see the euent of this. Enter.

Tra. But sir, Loue concerneth vs to adde Her fathers liking, which to bring to passe As before imparted to your worship, I am to get a man what ere he be, It skills not much, weele fit him to our turne, And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa, And make assurance heere in Padua Of greater summes then I haue promised, So shall you quietly enioy your hope, And marry sweet Bianca with consent

Luc. Were it not that my fellow schoolemaster Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly: 'Twere good me-thinkes to steale our marriage, Which once perform'd, let all the world say no, Ile keepe mine owne despite of all the world

Tra. That by degrees we meane to looke into, And watch our vantage in this businesse, Wee'll ouer-reach the grey-beard Gremio, The narrow prying father Minola, The quaint Musician, amorous Litio, All for my Masters sake Lucentio. Enter Gremio.

Signior Gremio, came you from the Church? Gre. As willingly as ere I came from schoole

Tra. And is the Bride & Bridegroom coming home? Gre. A bridegroome say you? 'tis a groome indeed, A grumlling groome, and that the girle shall finde

Tra. Curster then she, why 'tis impossible

Gre. Why hee's a deuill, a deuill, a very fiend

Tra. Why she's a deuill, a deuill, the deuils damme

Gre. Tut, she's a Lambe, a Doue, a foole to him: Ile tell you sir Lucentio; when the Priest Should aske if Katherine should be his wife, I, by goggs woones quoth he, and swore so loud, That all amaz'd the Priest let fall the booke, And as he stoop'd againe to take it vp, This mad-brain'd bridegroome tooke him such a cuffe, That downe fell Priest and booke, and booke and Priest, Now take them vp quoth he, if any list

Tra. What said the wench when he rose againe? Gre. Trembled and shooke: for why, he stamp'd and swore, as if the Vicar meant to cozen him: but after many ceremonies done, hee calls for wine, a health quoth he, as if he had beene aboord carowsing to his Mates after a storme, quaft off the Muscadell, and threw the sops all in the Sextons face: hauing no other reason, but that his beard grew thinne and hungerly, and seem'd to aske him sops as hee was drinking: This done, hee tooke the Bride about the necke, and kist her lips with such a clamorous smacke, that at the parting all the Church did eccho: and I seeing this, came thence for very shame, and after mee I know the rout is comming, such a mad marryage neuer was before: harke, harke, I heare the minstrels play.

Musicke playes.

Enter Petruchio, Kate, Bianca, Hortensio, Baptista.

Petr. Gentlemen & friends, I thank you for your pains, I know you thinke to dine with me to day, And haue prepar'd great store of wedding cheere, But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, And therefore heere I meane to take my leaue

Bap. Is't possible you will away to night? Pet. I must away to day before night come, Make it no wonder: if you knew my businesse, You would intreat me rather goe then stay: And honest company, I thanke you all, That haue beheld me giue away my selfe To this most patient, sweet, and vertuous wife, Dine with my father, drinke a health to me, For I must hence, and farewell to you all

Tra. Let vs intreat you stay till after dinner

Pet. It may not be

Gra. Let me intreat you

Pet. It cannot be

Kat. Let me intreat you

Pet. I am content

Kat. Are you content to stay? Pet. I am content you shall entreat me stay, But yet not stay, entreat me how you can

Kat. Now if you loue me stay

Pet. Grumio, my horse

Gru. I sir, they be ready, the Oates haue eaten the horses

Kate. Nay then, Doe what thou canst, I will not goe to day, No, nor to morrow, not till I please my selfe, The dore is open sir, there lies your way, You may be iogging whiles your bootes are greene: For me, Ile not be gone till I please my selfe, 'Tis like you'll proue a iolly surly groome, That take it on you at the first so roundly

Pet. O Kate content thee, prethee be not angry

Kat. I will be angry, what hast thou to doe? Father, be quiet, he shall stay my leisure

Gre. I marry sir, now it begins to worke

Kat. Gentlemen, forward to the bridall dinner, I see a woman may be made a foole If she had not a spirit to resist