ARKCODEX
Act II, Scene 1
1Padua. A room in Baptista’s house.
2Enter Katharina and Bianca.
3BiancaGood sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me;
That I disdain: but for these other gawds,
Unbind my hands, I’ll pull them off myself,
Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
Or what you will command me will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.
4KatharinaOf all thy suitors, here I charge thee, tell
Whom thou lovest best: see thou dissemble not.
5BiancaBelieve me, sister, of all the men alive
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
6KatharinaMinion, thou liest. Is’t not Hortensio?
7BiancaIf you affect him, sister, here I swear
I’ll plead for you myself, but you shall have him.
8KatharinaO then, belike, you fancy riches more:
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
9BiancaIs it for him you do envy me so?
Nay then you jest, and now I well perceive
You have but jested with me all this while:
I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
10KatharinaIf that be jest, then all the rest was so. Strikes her.
11Enter Baptista.
12BaptistaWhy, how now, dame! whence grows this insolence?
Bianca, stand aside. Poor girl! she weeps.
Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
Why dost thou wrong her that did ne’er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
13KatharinaHer silence flouts me, and I’ll be revenged. Flies after Bianca.
14BaptistaWhat, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in. Exit Bianca.
15KatharinaWhat, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day
And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep
Till I can find occasion of revenge. Exit.
16BaptistaWas ever gentleman thus grieved as I?
But who comes here?
17Enter Gremio, Lucentio in the habit of a mean man; Petruchio, with Hortensio as a musician; and Tranio, with Biondello bearing a lute and books.
18GremioGood morrow, neighbour Baptista.
19BaptistaGood morrow, neighbour Gremio.
God save you, gentlemen!
20PetruchioAnd you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
Call’d Katharina, fair and virtuous?
21BaptistaI have a daughter, sir, called Katharina.
22GremioYou are too blunt: go to it orderly.
23PetruchioYou wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.
I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine, Presenting Hortensio.
Cunning in music and the mathematics,
To instruct her fully in those sciences,
Whereof I know she is not ignorant:
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
24BaptistaYou’re welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake.
But for my daughter Katharine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
25PetruchioI see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my company.
26BaptistaMistake me not; I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name?
27PetruchioPetruchio is my name; Antonio’s son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.
28BaptistaI know him well: you are welcome for his sake.
29GremioSaving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too:
Baccare! you are marvellous forward.
30PetruchioO, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.
31GremioI doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To express the like kindness, myself, that have been more kindly beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young scholar, presenting Lucentio, that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and mathematics: his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service.
32BaptistaA thousand thanks, Signior Gremio. Welcome, good Cambio. To Tranio. But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger: may I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
33TranioPardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own,
That, being a stranger in this city here,
Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
In the preferment of the eldest sister.
This liberty is all that I request,
That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
I may have welcome ’mongst the rest that woo
And free access and favour as the rest:
And, toward the education of your daughters,
I here bestow a simple instrument,
And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:
If you accept them, then their worth is great.
34BaptistaLucentio is your name; of whence, I pray?
35TranioOf Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
36BaptistaA mighty man of Pisa; by report
I know him well: you are very welcome, sir,
Take you the lute, and you the set of books;
You shall go see your pupils presently.
Holla, within!
37Enter a Servant.
38Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my daughters; and tell them both,
These are their tutors: bid them use them well. Exit Servant, with Lucentio and Hortensio, Biondello following.
We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
39PetruchioSignior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better’d rather than decreased:
Then tell me, if I get your daughter’s love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
40BaptistaAfter my death the one half of my lands,
And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
41PetruchioAnd, for that dowry, I’ll assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leases whatsoever:
Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.
42BaptistaAy, when the special thing is well obtain’d,
That is, her love; for that is all in all.
43PetruchioWhy, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all:
So I to her and so she yields to me;
For I am rough and woo not like a babe.
44BaptistaWell mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!
But be thou arm’d for some unhappy words.
45PetruchioAy, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,
That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
46Reenter Hortensio, with his head broke.
47BaptistaHow now, my friend! why dost thou look so pale?
48HortensioFor fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
49BaptistaWhat, will my daughter prove a good musician?
50HortensioI think she’ll sooner prove a soldier:
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
51BaptistaWhy, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
52HortensioWhy, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bow’d her hand to teach her fingering;
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
“Frets, call you these?” quoth she; “I’ll fume with them:”
And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute:
While she did call me rascal fiddler
And twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms,
As had she studied to misuse me so.
53PetruchioNow, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
I love her ten times more than e’er I did:
O, how I long to have some chat with her!
54BaptistaWell, go with me and be not so discomfited:
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
She’s apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
55PetruchioI pray you do. Exeunt all but Petruchio. I will attend her here,
And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
Say that she rail; why then I’ll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:
Say that she frown; I’ll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash’d with dew:
Say she be mute and will not speak a word:
Then I’ll commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:
If she do bid me pack, I’ll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week:
If she deny to wed, I’ll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns and when be married.
But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
56Enter Katharina.
57Good morrow, Kate; for that’s your name, I hear.
58KatharinaWell have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
They call me Katharine that do talk of me.
59PetruchioYou lie, in faith; for you are call’d plain Kate,
And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst;
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
60KatharinaMoved! in good time: let him that moved you hither
Remove you hence: I knew you at the first
You were a moveable.
61PetruchioWhy, what’s a moveable?
62KatharinaA join’d-stool.
63PetruchioThou hast hit it: come, sit on me.
64KatharinaAsses are made to bear, and so are you.
65PetruchioWomen are made to bear, and so are you.
66KatharinaNo such jade as you, if me you mean.
67PetruchioAlas! good Kate, I will not burden thee;
For, knowing thee to be but young and light—
68KatharinaToo light for such a swain as you to catch;
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
69PetruchioShould be! should—buzz!
70KatharinaWell ta’en, and like a buzzard.
71PetruchioO slow-wing’d turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?
72KatharinaAy, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
73PetruchioCome, come, you wasp; i’ faith, you are too angry.
74KatharinaIf I be waspish, best beware my sting.
75PetruchioMy remedy is then, to pluck it out.
76KatharinaAy, if the fool could find it where it lies.
77PetruchioWho knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
78KatharinaIn his tongue.
79PetruchioWhose tongue?
80KatharinaYours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.
81PetruchioWhat, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,
Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
82KatharinaThat I’ll try. She strikes him.
83PetruchioI swear I’ll cuff you, if you strike again.
84KatharinaSo may you lose your arms:
If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
85PetruchioA herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!
86KatharinaWhat is your crest? a coxcomb?
87PetruchioA combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
88KatharinaNo cock of mine; you crow too like a craven.
89PetruchioNay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
90KatharinaIt is my fashion, when I see a crab.
91PetruchioWhy, here’s no crab; and therefore look not sour.
92KatharinaThere is, there is.
93PetruchioThen show it me.
94KatharinaHad I a glass, I would.
95PetruchioWhat, you mean my face?
96KatharinaWell aim’d of such a young one.
97PetruchioNow, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
98KatharinaYet you are wither’d.
99Petruchio’Tis with cares.
100KatharinaI care not.
101PetruchioNay, hear you, Kate: in sooth you scape not so.
102KatharinaI chafe you, if I tarry: let me go.
103PetruchioNo, 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?
O slanderous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
Is straight and slender and as brown in hue
As hazel nuts and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.
104KatharinaGo, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.
105PetruchioDid 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!
106KatharinaWhere did you study all this goodly speech?
107PetruchioIt is extempore, from my mother-wit.
108KatharinaA witty mother! witless else her son.
109PetruchioAm I not wise?
110KatharinaYes; keep you warm.
111PetruchioMarry, 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, nill 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 Katharina to my wife.
112Reenter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio.
113BaptistaNow, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
114PetruchioHow but well, sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
115BaptistaWhy, how now, daughter Katharine! in your dumps?
116KatharinaCall you me daughter? now, I promise you
You have show’d a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
A mad-cup ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
117PetruchioFather, ’tis thus: yourself and all the world,
That talk’d of her, have talk’d 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,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
And to conclude, we have ’greed so well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
118KatharinaI’ll see thee hang’d on Sunday first.
119GremioHark, Petruchio; she says she’ll see thee hang’d first.
120TranioIs this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!
121PetruchioBe patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself:
If she and I be pleased, what’s that to you?
’Tis bargain’d ’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.
122BaptistaI know not what to say: but give me your hands;
God send you joy, Petruchio! ’tis a match.
123Gremio
Tranio Amen, say we: we will be witnesses.
124PetruchioFather, 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 Petruchio and Katharina severally.
125GremioWas ever match clapp’d up so suddenly?
126BaptistaFaith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
127Tranio’Twas a commodity lay fretting by you:
’Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
128BaptistaThe gain I seek is, quiet in the match.
129GremioNo doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
But now, Baptists, to your younger daughter:
Now is the day we long have looked for:
I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
130TranioAnd I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
131GremioYoungling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
132TranioGraybeard, thy love doth freeze.
133GremioBut thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back: ’tis age that nourisheth.
134TranioBut youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
135BaptistaContent you, gentlemen: I will compound this strife:
’Tis deeds must win the prize; and he of both
That can assure my daughter greatest dower
Shall have my Bianca’s love.
Say, Signior Gremio, What can you assure her?
136GremioFirst, 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 stuff’d my crowns;
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
Pewter and brass and all things that belong
To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Sixscore 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.
137TranioThat “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 walls, as any one
Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch’d you, Signior Gremio?
138GremioTwo 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?
139TranioGremio, ’tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies; besides two galliases,
And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her,
And twice as much, whate’er thou offer’st next.
140GremioNay, I have offer’d 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.
141TranioWhy, then the maid is mine from all the world,
By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied.
142BaptistaI 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?
143TranioThat’s but a cavil: he is old, I young.
144GremioAnd may not young men die, as well as old?
145BaptistaWell, 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 this assurance;
If not, to Signior Gremio:
And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.
146GremioAdieu, good neighbour. Exit Baptista. 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.
147TranioA vengeance on your crafty wither’d 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, call’d “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.