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Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting? In his tail.
Kath. In his tongue. ,
Whose tongue ?
Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewell.
Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail ? Nay, come
again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman. Kath.
That I'll try.
[Striking him. Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Kath. So may you lose your arms.
If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why, then no arms.
Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
Kath. What is your crest? A coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen. .
Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.
Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so
Kath. It is my fashion when I see a crab.
Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.
Kath. There is, there is.
Pet. Then show it me. · Kath.
Had I a glass, I would.
Pet. What, you mean my face?
Well aimed of such a young one.
Pet. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
Kath. Yet you are withered.
'Tis with cares. Kath.
I care not. Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in sooth, you 'scape not so. Kath. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.
Pet. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle.
'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
And now I find report a very liar;
For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous;
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers.
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip as angry wenches will;
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report, that Kate doth limp?
Oslanderous world! Kate, like the hazel-twig,
Is straight and slender; and as brown in hue
Kate; in soutlet me go gentle.
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
0, let me see thee walk; thou dost not halt.
Kath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove,
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait ?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!
Kath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Kath. A witty-mother! witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise ?
Yes; keep you warm.
Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, in thy bed;
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms :- Your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And, will you, nil you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
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;
For I am he, am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate :
Conformable, as other household Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial;
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.
Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO. Bap. Now, Seignior Petruchio, how speed you with My daughter? · Pet. How but well, sir ? how but well ? It were impossible I should speed amiss. Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katharine; in your
dumps ? Kath. Call you me daughter? Now, I promise you, You have showed a tender, fatherly regard, To wish me wed to one half lunatic; A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack, That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pet. Father, 'tis thus:-Yourself and all the world, That talked of her, have talked amiss of her; If she be curst, it is for policy; For she's not froward, but modest as the dove; She is not hot, but temperate as the morn; For patience she will prove a second Grissel;
VOL. II. -3
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;
And to conclude, — we have 'greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
Kath. I'll see thee hanged on Sunday first.
Gre. Hark, Petruchio! she says she'll see thee hanged
first. Tra. Is this your speeding ? Nay, then, good night our
part ! Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself. If she and I be pleased, what's that to you? 'Tis bargained 'twixt us twain, being alone, That she shall still be curst in company. I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe How much she loves me. O, the kindest Kate!She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath, That in a twink she won me to her love. O, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see, How tame, when men and women are alone, A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew. Give me thy hand, Kate! I will unto Venice,, To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.- . Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests; I will be sure my Katharine shall be fine.
Bap. I know not what to say; but give me your hands;
God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
Gre. Tra. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.
Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu ;
I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace. -
We will have rings, and things, and fine array;
And kiss me, Kate; we will be married o' Sunday.
. [Exeunt Pet. and Kath. severally. Gre. Was ever match clapped up so suddenly ?
Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part, And venture madly on a desperate mart.
Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you. 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
Bap. The gain I seek is— quiet in the match.
Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch.
But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter;-
Now is the day we long have looked for;
I am your neighbor, and was suitor first.
Tra. And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
Gre. Youngling! thou canst not love so dear as I.
Tra. Gray-beard! thy love doth freeze.
Andere Faith. ver match count Pemarried oor
But thine doth fry. Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.
Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I'll compound this strife. 'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he, of both, That can assure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love. Say, seignior Gremio, what can you assure her ?
Gre. First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
Basins, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
In ivory coffers I have stuffed my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras, counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies;
Fine linen, Turkey cushions bossed with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house, or house-keeping. Then, at my farm,
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
And, if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine.
Tra. That only came well in. — Sir, list to me.
I am my father's heir, and only son:
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
Within rich Pisa's walls, as any one
Old seignior Gremio has in Padua;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year,
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.-
What, have I pinched you, seignior Gremio ?
Gre. Two thousand ducats by the year, of land !
My land amounts not to so much in all:
That she shall have; besides an argosy,
That now is lying in Marseilles' road.-
What, have I choked you with an argosy?
Tra. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses,
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next,
Gre. Nay, I have offered all; I have no more;
And she can have no more than all I have.
If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
Tra. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,
By your firm promise ; Gremio is outvied.
Bap. I must confess, your offer is the best;
And, let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own; else you must pardon me.
If you should die before him, where's her dower?
Ira. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.
Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old ?,
Bap. Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolved. - On Sunday next, you know,
My daughter Katharine is to be married :
Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
If not, to seignior Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit.
Gre. Adieu, good neighbor. — Now, I fear thee not; Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and, in his waning age, Set foot under thy table. Tut! a toy! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy! [Exit.
Tra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide! Yet I have faced it with a card of ten. 'Tis in my head to do my master good :I see no reason, but supposed Lucentio Must get a father, ćalled — supposed Vincentio; And that's a wonder. Fathers, commonly, Do get their children; but, in this case of wooing, A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning. [Exit.
SCENE I. A Room in Baptista's House.
Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA.
Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcomed you withal ?
Hor. 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.