The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.

  Enter Biondello

  BIONDELLO

  O, master, master, I have watched 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 marcantant 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 farre 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 anyone in Mantua

  To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?

  Your ships are stayed at Venice, and the Duke,

  For private quarrel ’twixt your Duke and him,

  Hath published and proclaimed it openly.

  ’Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come,

  You might have heard it else proclaimed 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 count’nance 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 lodged.

  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 looked 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

  4.3 Enter Katherine and Grumio

  GRUMIO

  No, no, forsooth. I dare not, for my life.

  KATHERINE

  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 starved 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?

  KATHERINE

  ‘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 broiled?

  KATHERINE

  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?

  KATHERINE

  A dish that I do love to feed upon.

  GRUMIO

  Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

  KATHERINE

  Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.

  GRUMIO

  Nay, then I will not. You shall have the mustard,

  Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

  KATHERINE

  Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.

  GRUMIO

  Why then, the mustard without the beef.

  KATHERINE

  Go, get thee gone, thou false, deluding slave,

  (Beating 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 Petruccio and Hortensio, with meat

  PETRUCCIO

  How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?

  HORTENSIO

  Mistress, what cheer?

  KATHERINE

  Faith, as cold as can be.

  PETRUCCIO

  Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.

  Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am

  To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee. 40

  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.

  KATHERINE I pray you, let it stand.

  PETRUCCIO

  The poorest service is repaid with thanks,

  And so shall mine before you touch the meat.

  KATHERINE I thank you, sir.

  HORTENSIO

  Signor Petruccio, fie, you are to blame.

  Come, Mistress Kate, I’ll bear you company.

  PETRUCCIO (aside)

  Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov’st me.

  (To Katherine) 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 scarves, and fans, and double change of

  bravery,

  With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.

  What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure,

  To d
eck thy body with his ruffling treasure.

  Enter Tailor with a gown

  Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments.

  Lay forth the gown.

  Enter Haberdasher with a cap

  What news with you, sir?

  HABERDASHER

  Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

  PETRUCCIO

  Why, this was moulded on a porringer—

  A velvet dish. Fie, fie, ‘tis lewd and filthy.

  Why, ’tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,

  A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby’s cap.

  Away with it! Come, let me have a bigger.

  KATHERINE

  I’ll have no bigger. This doth fit the time,

  And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

  PETRUCCIO

  When you are gentle you shall have one, too,

  And not till then.

  HORTENSIO (aside) That will not be in haste.

  KATHERINE

  Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak,

  And speak I will. I am no child, no babe.

  Your betters have endured 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.

  PETRUCCIO

  Why, thou sayst 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.

  KATHERINE

  Love me or love me not, I like the cap

  And it I will have, or I will have none.

  [Exit Haberdasher]

  PETRUCCIO

  Thy gown? Why, ay. Come, tailor, let us see’t.

  O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is here?

  What’s this—a sleeve? ‘Tis like a demi-cannon.

  What, up and down carved like an apple-tart?

  Here’s snip, and nip, and cut, and slish and slash,

  Like to a scissor in a barber’s shop.

  Why, what o’ devil’s name, tailor, call’st thou this?

  HORTENSIO (aside)

  I see she’s like to have nor cap nor gown.

  TAILOR

  You bid me make it orderly and well,

  According to the fashion and the time.

  PETRUCCIO

  Marry, and did, but if you be remembered

  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.

  KATHERINE

  I never saw a better fashioned gown,

  More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable.

  Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

  PETRUCCIO

  Why true, he means to make a puppet of thee.

  TAILOR She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.

  PETRUCCIO

  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.

  Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread!

  Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,

  Or I shall so bemete thee with thy yard

  As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv’st.

  I tell thee, I, that thou hast marred her gown.

  TAILOR

  Your worship is deceived. The gown is made

  Just as my master had direction.

  Grumio gave order how it should be done.

  GRUMIO

  I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.

  TAILOR

  But how did you desire it should be made?

  GRUMIO Marry, sir, with needle and thread.

  TAILOR

  But did you not request to have it cut?

  GRUMIO Thou hast faced many things.

  TAILOR I have.

  GRUMIO Face not me. Thou hast braved many men. Brave not me. I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto thee I bid thy master cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo thou liest.

  TAILOR (showing a paper) Why, here is the note of the fashion, to testify.

  PETRUCCIO Read it.

  GRUMIO The note lies in’s throat if he say I said so.

  TAILOR (reads) ‘Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.’

  GRUMIO Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in the skirts of it and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread. I said a gown.

  PETRUCCIO Proceed.

  TAILOR (reads) ‘With a small compassed cape.’

  GRUMIO I confess the cape.

  TAILOR (reads) ‘With a trunk sleeve.’

  GRUMIO I confess two sleeves.

  TAILOR (reads) ‘The sleeves curiously cut.’

  PETRUCCIO Ay, there’s the villany.

  GRUMIO Error i‘th’ bill, sir, error i’th’ bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and sewed up again, and that I’ll prove upon thee though thy little finger be armed in a thimble. 146

  TAILOR This is true that I say. An I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.

  GRUMIO I am for thee straight. Take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.

  HORTENSIO Godamercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.

  PETRUCCIO

  Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.

  GRUMIO You are i‘th’ right, sir. ‘Tis for my mistress.

  PETRUCCIO (to the Tailor)

  Go, take it up unto thy master’s use.

  GRUMIO (to the Tailor) Villain, not for thy life. Take up my mistress’ gown for thy master’s use!

  PETRUCCIO Why, sir, what’s your conceit in that?

  GRUMIO O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for. ‘Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use’—O fie, fie, fie!

  PETRUCCIO (aside)

  Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.

  (To the Tailor) Go, take it hence. Be gone, and say no

  more.

  HORTENSIO (aside to the Tailor)

  Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow.

  Take no unkindness of his hasty words.

  Away, I say. Commend me to thy master.

  Exit Tailor

  PETRUCCIO

  Well, come, my Kate. We will unto your father’s

  Even in these honest, mean habiliments.

  Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor,

  For ‘tis the mind that makes the body rich,

  And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,

  So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

  What, is the jay more precious than the lark

  Because his feathers are more beautiful?

  Or is the adder better than the eel

  Because his painted skin contents the eye?

  O no, good Kate, neither art thou the worse

  For this poor furniture and mean array.

  If thou account’st it shame, lay it on me,

  And therefore frolic; we will hence forthwith

  To feast and sport us at thy father’s house.

  Go call my men, and let us straight to him,

  And bring our horses unto Long Lane end.

  There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.

  Let’s see, I think ’tis now some seven o’clock,

  And well we may come there by dinner-time.

  KATHERINE

  I dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two,

  And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.

  PETRUCCIO

  It shall be seven ere I go to horse.

  Look what I speak, or do, or think to do,

  You are still crossing it. Sirs, let’t alone.

  I will not go toda
y, and ere I do

  It shall be what o’clock I say it is.

  HORTENSIO (aside)

  Why, so this gallant will command the sun.

  Exeunt

  4.4 Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and the Pedant dressed like Vincentio, booted and bare-headed

  TRANIO

  Sir, this is the house. Please it you that I call?

  PEDANT

  Ay, what else. And but I be deceived,

  Signor Baptista may remember me

  Near twenty years ago in Genoa—

  TRANIO

  Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.—

  Tis well, and hold your own in any case

  With such austerity as ‘longeth to a father.

  Enter Biondello

  PEDANT

  I warrant you. But sir, here comes your boy.

  ’Twere good he were schooled.

  TRANIO

  Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,

  Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.

  Imagine ’twere the right Vincentio.

  BIONDELLO Tut, fear not me.

  TRANIO

  But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?

  BIONDELLO

  I told him that your father was at Venice

  And that you looked for him this day in Padua.

  TRANIO (giving money)

  Thou’rt a tall fellow. Hold thee that to drink.

  Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.

  Enter Baptista, and Lucentio as Cambio

  TRANIO

  Signor Baptista, you are happily met.

  (To the Pedant) Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of.

  I pray you stand good father to me now.

  Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

  PEDANT

  Soft, son. (To Baptista) Sir, by your leave, having

  come to Padua

  To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio

  Made me acquainted with a weighty cause

  Of love between your daughter and himself,

  And for the good report I hear of you,

  And for the love he beareth to your daughter,

  And she to him, to stay him not too long

  I am content in a good father’s care

  To have him matched, and if you please to like

  No worse than I, upon some agreement

  Me shall you find ready and willing

  With one consent to have her so bestowed,

  For curious I cannot be with you,

  Signor Baptista, of whom I hear so well.

  BAPTISTA

  Sir, pardon me in what I have to say.

  Your plainness and your shortness please me well.

  Right true it is your son Lucentio here

  Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,

  Or both dissemble deeply their affections.