The Taming of the Drew
Page 40
NATHANIEL.
All things is ready. How near is our master?
GRUMIO.
E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not,--
Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.
[Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA.]
PETRUCHIO.
Where be these knaves? What! no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?--
ALL SERVANTS.
Here, here, sir; here, sir.
PETRUCHIO.
Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
GRUMIO.
Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCHIO.
You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRUMIO.
Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel;
There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing;
There was none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;
The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
PETRUCHIO.
Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
[Exeunt some of the SERVANTS.]
Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those--? Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
Soud, soud, soud, soud!
[Re-enter SERVANTS with supper.]
Why, when, I say?--Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.--
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains! when?
It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way:
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
[Strikes him.]
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
[Exit SERVANT.]
One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.--
[SERVANT lets the ewer fall. PETRUCHIO strikes him.]
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
KATHERINA.
Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCHIO.
A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?--
What's this? Mutton?
FIRST SERVANT.
Ay.
PETRUCHIO.
Who brought it?
PETER.
I.
PETRUCHIO.
'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
And serve it thus to me that love it not?
[Throws the meat, etc., at them.]
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.
You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
What! do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
KATHERINA.
I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCHIO.
I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended.
And for this night we'll fast for company:
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and CURTIS.]
NATHANIEL.
Peter, didst ever see the like?
PETER.
He kills her in her own humour.
[Re-enter CURTIS.]
GRUMIO.
Where is he?
CURTIS.
In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her;
And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,
Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
And sits as one new risen from a dream.
Away, away! for he is coming hither.
[Exeunt.]
[Re-enter PETRUCHIO.]
PETRUCHIO.
Thus have I politicly 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 humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show.
[Exit.]
SCENE II. Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter TRANIO and HORTENSIO.]
TRANIO.
Is 't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
HORTENSIO.
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.]
LUCENTIO.
Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
BIANCA.
What, master, read you, First resolve me that.
LUCENTIO.
I read that I profess, the Art to Love.
BIANCA.
And may you prove, sir, master of your art!
LUCENTIO.
While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart.
[They retire.]
HORTENSIO.
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.
TRANIO.
O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
HORTENSIO.
Mistake no more; I am not Licio.
Nor a musician as I seem to be;
But one that scorn 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.
TRANIO.
Signior Hortensio, I have often hea
rd
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.
HORTENSIO.
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.
TRANIO.
And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
Never to marry with her though she would entreat;
Fie on her! See how beastly she doth court him!
HORTENSIO.
Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
I will be married to a wealtlly widow
Ere three days pass, which hath as long lov'd me
As I have lov'd this proud disdainful haggard.
And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
Shall win my love; and so I take my leave,
In resolution as I swore before.
[Exit HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and BIANCA advance.]
TRANIO.
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.
BIANCA.
Tranio, you jest; but have you both forsworn me?
TRANIO.
Mistress, we have.
LUCENTIO.
Then we are rid of Licio.
TRANIO.
I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.
BIANCA.
God give him joy!
TRANIO.
Ay, and he'll tame her.
BIANCA.
He says so, Tranio.
TRANIO.
Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCA.
The taming-school! What, is there such a place?
TRANIO.
Ay, mistress; and Petruchio is the master,
That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
[Enter BIONDELLO, running.]
BIONDELLO.
O master, master! I have watch'd so long
That I am dog-weary; but at last I spied
An ancient angel coming down the hill
Will serve the turn.
TRANIO.
What is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLO.
Master, a mercatante or a pedant,
I know not what; but formal in apparel,
In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIO.
And what of him, Tranio?
TRANIO.
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.]
PEDANT.
God save you, sir!
TRANIO.
And you, sir! you are welcome.
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
PEDANT.
Sir, at the farthest for a week or two;
But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
TRANIO.
What countryman, I pray?
PEDANT.
Of Mantua.
TRANIO.
Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid,
And come to Padua, careless of your life!
PEDANT.
My life, sir! How, I pray? for that goes hard.
TRANIO.
'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stay'd 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 are but newly come
You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
PEDANT.
Alas, sir! it is worse for me than so;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence, and must here deliver them.
TRANIO.
Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this I will advise you:
First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
PEDANT.
Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIO.
Among them know you one Vincentio?
PEDANT.
I know him not, but I have heard of him,
A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIO.
He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO.
[Aside.] As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
TRANIO.
To save your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for his sake;
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.
PEDANT.
O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIO.
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 to clothe you as becomes you.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
[Enter KATHERINA and GRUMIO.]
GRUMIO.
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
KATHERINA.
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,
Nor never needed that I should 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 prithee go and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRUMIO.
What say you to a neat's foot?
KATHERINA.
'Tis passing good; I prithee let me have it.
GRUMIO.
I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
KATHERINA.
I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO.
I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?