Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon intreaty, have a prefent alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to intreat,
Nor never needed that I should intreat,

Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
And that, which fpites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:

As who would fay, If I fhould fleep or eat
'Twere deadly fickness, or else present death:
I pry'thee go, and get me fome repaft;
I care not what, fo it be wholesome food.
Gru. What fay you to a neat's foot?

Cath. 'Tis paffing good; I pry'thee, let me have it.
Gru. I fear, it is too flegmatick a meat:
How fay you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?

Cath. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me. Gru. I cannot tell;-I fear, it's cholerick: What fay you to a piece of beef and mustard? Cath. A difh, that I do love to feed upon. Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little. Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the muftard reft. Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the muftard,

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou falfe deluding slave, [Beats bim. That feeds me with the very name of meat: Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, That triumph thus upon my mifery! Go, get thee gone, I say.

SCENE

SCENE VII...

Enter Petruchio and Hortenfio, with meat.

Pet. How fares my Kate? what, Sweeting, all à-mort?

Hor. Miftrefs, what cheer?

Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look cheerfully upon me: Here, love, thou feeft how diligent I am,

To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee:
I'm fure, fweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? nay then, thou lov'ft it not:
And all my pains is forted to no proof".
Here, take away the dish.

Cath. I pray you let it ftand.

Pet. The pooreft service is repaid with thanks, And fo fhall mine, before you touch the meat. Cath. I thank you, Sir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fy, you are to blame : Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou loveft me;

Much good do it unto thy gentle heart;
Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey-love,
Will we return unto thy father's houfe,
And revel it as bravely as the best,

[Afide.

With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals, and things:
With fcarfs, and fans, and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, haft thou din'd? the taylor ftays thy leifure,
To deck thy body with his ruftling treasure.

"And all my pains is forted to no proof.] And all my labour has ended in nothing, or proved nothing. We tried an experiment, but it forted not.

BACON. *-fardingals, and things:]

Though things is a poor word, yet I have no better, and perhaps the author had not another that would rhyme. I once thought to tranfpofe the words rings and things, but it would make little improvement.

SCENE

Come, taylor, let us fee thefe ornaments.
Enter Haberdafber.

Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir?
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer,
A velvet dish; fy, fy, 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-fhell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time; And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as these.

Pet. When you are gentle, you fhall have one too, And not 'till then.

Her. That will not be in hafte.

8

Cath. Why, Sir, I truft, I may have leave to speak. And fpeak I will. I am no child, no babe; Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind; And, if you cannot, beft you stop your ears. My tongue, will tell the anger of my heart, Or, elfe my heart, concealing it, will break: And rather than it fhall, I will be free Even to the utmoft as I pleafe in words. Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true, it is a paltry cap. A custard-coffin, a bauble, a filken pie; I love thee well, in that thou lik'ft it not. Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the And I will have it, or I will have none. Pet. Thy gown? why, ay.--Come, taylor, let us fee't.

Why, Sir, I truf, I may bave leave to speak, &c.] ShakeSpear has here copied nature with great fkill. Petruchio, by frightening, ftarving and overwatching his wife, had tamed her in to gentleness and fubmiffion. And the audience expects to hear.

cap;

no more of the Shrew: When on her being croffed, in the article of fashion and finery, the moft inveterate folly of the fex, fhe files out again, though for the last time, into all the intemperate rage of her nature.

WARBURTON.

O mercy, heav'n, what mafking ftuff is here?
What? this a fleeve? 'tis like a demi cannon;
What, up and down carv'd like an apple tart?
Here's fhip, and nip, and flifh, and flash,
Like to a cenfer in a barber's fhop:

Why, what a devil's name, taylor, call'ft thou this? Hor. I fee, fhe's like to've neither cap nor gown.

Tay. You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion of the time,

[Afide.

Pet. Marry, and did: but if you be remembred, I did not bid you mar it to the time,

Go, hop me over every kennel home,
For you fhall hop without my cuftom, Sir:
I'll none of it; hence, make you best of it.
Cath. I never faw a better-fashion'd gown,
More quaint, more pleafing, nor more commendable:
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet. Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee. Tay. She fays, your Worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet. Oh moft monftrous arrogance!

Thou lyeft, thou thread, thou thimble †,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket, thou!
Brav'd in mine own houfe with a fkein of thread;
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
Or I fhall fo be-mete thee with thy yard,

As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'ft:
I tell thee, I, that thou haft marr'd her gown,
Tay, Your Worship is deceiv'd, the gown is made
Juft as my mafter had direction.

Grumio gave order how it fhould be done.

• Cenfers, in barbers fhops, are now difused, but they may eafily be imagined to have been veffels which, for the emiffion of the smoke, were cut with great number and varieties of 4

interstices.

+ The taylor's trade having an appearance of effeminacy, has always been, among the rugged English, liable to farcafms and contempt.

Gru

Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the ftuff.
Tay. But how did you defire it should be made?
Gru. Marry, Sir, with needle and thread.
Tray. But did you not request to have it cut?
Gru. Thou haft fac'd many things.

Tay. I have.

Gru. Face not me: thou haft brav'd many men, brave not me; I will neither be fac'd, nor brav'd. I fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo, thou lieft.

Tay. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify. Pet. Read it.

Gru. The note lies in his throat, if he say I said fo. Tay. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.

Gru. Mafter, if ever I faid loose-bodied gown, fow me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I faid a gown.

Pet. Proceed.

Tay. With a small compast cape.
Gru. I confefs the cape.

Tay. With a trunk-fleeve.
Gru. I confefs two fleeves.

Tay. The fleeves curiously cut.
Pet. Ay, there's the villany.

Gru. Error i' th' bill, Sir, error i' th' bill: I commanded, the sleeves fhould be cut out, and fow'd up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, tho' thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tay. This is true, that I fay; an I had thee in place where, thou fhou'dft know it.

Gru. I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy meet-yard, and spare not me.

Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he fhall have no
odds.

Pet. Well, Sir, in brief the gown is not for me.
Gru. You are i' th' right, Sir, 'tis for my mistress.
Pet. Go take it up unto thy master's use.

Gru.