The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (ebook reader with android os .txt) 📖

>Signior Hortensio, I have often heard

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?

 

KATHERINA.

A dish that I do love to feed upon.

 

GRUMIO.

Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

 

KATHERINA.

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.

 

KATHERINA.

Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.

 

GRUMIO.

Why then the mustard without the beef.

 

KATHERINA.

Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,

 

[Beats 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 PETRUCHIO with a dish of meat; and HORTENSIO.]

 

PETRUCHIO.

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

 

HORTENSIO.

Mistress, what cheer?

 

KATHERINA.

Faith, as cold as can be.

 

PETRUCHIO.

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:

 

[Sets the dish on a table.]

 

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.

 

KATHERINA.

I pray you, let it stand.

 

PETRUCHIO.

The poorest service is repaid with thanks;

And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.

 

KATHERINA.

I thank you, sir.

 

HORTENSIO.

Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.

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

 

PETRUCHIO.

[Aside.] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.

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 scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,

With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery.

What! hast thou din’d? The tailor stays thy leisure,

To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.

 

[Enter TAILOR.]

 

Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;

Lay forth the gown.—

 

[Enter HABERDASHER.]

 

What news with you, sir?

 

HABERDASHER.

Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

 

PETRUCHIO.

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.

 

KATHERINA.

I’ll have no bigger; this doth fit the time,

And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

 

PETRUCHIO.

When you are gentle, you shall have one too,

And not till then.

 

HORTENSIO.

[Aside] That will not be in haste.

 

KATHERINA.

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

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

Your betters have endur’d 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.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Why, thou say’st 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.

 

KATHERINA.

Love me or love me not, I like the cap;

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

 

[Exit HABERDASHER.]

 

PETRUCHIO.

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, carv’d like an appletart?

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

Like to a censer in a barber’s shop.

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

 

HORTENSIO.

[Aside] I see she’s like to have neither cap nor gown.

 

TAILOR.

You bid me make it orderly and well,

According to the fashion and the time.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Marry, and did; but if you be remember’d,

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.

 

KATHERINA.

I never saw a better fashion’d gown,

More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable;

Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

 

PETRUCHIO.

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

 

TAILOR.

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

 

PETRUCHIO.

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!

Brav’d in mine own house with a skein of thread!

Away! thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,

Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard

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

I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr’d her gown.

 

TAILOR.

Your worship is deceiv’d: 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