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Speeches (Lines) for Petruchio
in "Taming of the Shrew"

Total: 158

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Speech text



(stage directions). Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO

Petruchio. Verona, for a while I take my leave,
To see my friends in Padua; but of all
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.



Grumio. Knock, sir! Whom should I knock?
Is there any man has rebus'd your worship?

Petruchio. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.



Grumio. Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I
should knock you here, sir?

Petruchio. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.



Grumio. My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,
And then I know after who comes by the worst.

Petruchio. Will it not be?
Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock I'll ring it;
I'll try how you can sol-fa, and sing it.



Grumio. Help, masters, help! My master is mad.

Petruchio. Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!



Hortensio. How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio and my
good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?

Petruchio. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
'Con tutto il cuore ben trovato' may I say.



Grumio. Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If this
be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service- look you, sir:
he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it fit
for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught I
see, two and thirty, a pip out?
Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,
Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

Petruchio. A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.



Grumio. Knock at the gate? O heavens! Spake you not these words
plain: 'Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and
knock me soundly'? And come you now with 'knocking at the gate'?

Petruchio. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.



Hortensio. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge;
Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,
Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

Petruchio. Such wind as scatters young men through the world
To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience grows. But in a few,
Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
And I have thrust myself into this maze,
Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.



Hortensio. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich; but th'art too much my friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Petruchio. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse-
She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.



Hortensio. Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,
I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;
Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman;
Her only fault, and that is faults enough,
Is- that she is intolerable curst,
And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure
That, were my state far worser than it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

Petruchio. Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.
Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
For I will board her though she chide as loud
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.



Hortensio. Her father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman;
Her name is Katherina Minola,
Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.

Petruchio. I know her father, though I know not her;
And he knew my deceased father well.
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
And therefore let me be thus bold with you
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.



Grumio. O this woodcock, what an ass it is!

Petruchio. Peace, sirrah!



Gremio. So said, so done, is well.
Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?

Petruchio. I know she is an irksome brawling scold;
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.



Gremio. No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?

Petruchio. Born in Verona, old Antonio's son.
My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
And I do hope good days and long to see.



Gremio. O Sir, such a life with such a wife were strange!
But if you have a stomach, to't a God's name;
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wild-cat?

Petruchio. Will I live?



Grumio. Will he woo her? Ay, or I'll hang her.

Petruchio. Why came I hither but to that intent?
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs.



Tranio. Perhaps him and her, sir; what have you to do?

Petruchio. Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.



Lucentio. Sir, give him head; I know he'll prove a jade.

Petruchio. Hortensio, to what end are all these words?



Tranio. No, sir, but hear I do that he hath two:
The one as famous for a scolding tongue
As is the other for beauteous modesty.

Petruchio. Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.



Gremio. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.

Petruchio. Sir, understand you this of me, in sooth:
The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for,
Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
And will not promise her to any man
Until the elder sister first be wed.
The younger then is free, and not before.



Baptista Minola. Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.
God save you, gentlemen!

Petruchio. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?



Gremio. You are too blunt; go to it orderly.

Petruchio. You 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.



Baptista Minola. Y'are welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.

Petruchio. I see you do not mean to part with her;
Or else you like not of my company.



Baptista Minola. Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?

Petruchio. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.



Gremio. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
Bacare! you are marvellous forward.

Petruchio. O, pardon me, Signior Gremio! I would fain be doing.



Baptista Minola. A 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!
[Enter a SERVANT]
Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my daughters; and tell them both
These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.
[Exit SERVANT leading HORTENSIO carrying the lute and LUCENTIO with the books]
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.

Petruchio. Signior 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 bettered rather than decreas'd.
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?



Baptista Minola. After my death, the one half of my lands
And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.

Petruchio. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leases whatsoever.
Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.



Baptista Minola. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
That is, her love; for that is all in all.

Petruchio. Why, 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.



Baptista Minola. Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed
But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.

Petruchio. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
That shake not though they blow perpetually.



Hortensio. Why, 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 she had studied to misuse me so.

Petruchio. Now, 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!



Baptista Minola. Well, 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?

Petruchio. I pray you do. Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO
I'll 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.
Good morrow, Kate- for that's your name, I hear.



Katherina. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
They call me Katherine that do talk of me.

Petruchio. You 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 prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.



Katherina. Mov'd! in good time! Let him that mov'd you hither
Remove you hence. I knew you at the first
You were a moveable.

Petruchio. Why, what's a moveable?



Katherina. A join'd-stool.

Petruchio. Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.



Katherina. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

Petruchio. Women are made to bear, and so are you.



Katherina. No such jade as you, if me you mean.

Petruchio. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
For, knowing thee to be but young and light-



Katherina. Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

Petruchio. Should be! should- buzz!



Katherina. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.

Petruchio. O, slow-wing'd turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?



Katherina. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

Petruchio. Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.



Katherina. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

Petruchio. My remedy is then to pluck it out.



Katherina. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

Petruchio. Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
In his tail.



Katherina. In his tongue.

Petruchio. Whose tongue?



Katherina. Yours, if you talk of tales; and so farewell.

Petruchio. What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
Good Kate; I am a gentleman.



Katherina. That I'll try. [She strikes him]

Petruchio. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.



Katherina. So may you lose your arms.
If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why then no arms.

Petruchio. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!



Katherina. What is your crest- a coxcomb?

Petruchio. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.



Katherina. No cock of mine: you crow too like a craven.

Petruchio. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.



Katherina. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.

Petruchio. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.



Katherina. There is, there is.

Petruchio. Then show it me.



Katherina. Had I a glass I would.

Petruchio. What, you mean my face?



Katherina. Well aim'd of such a young one.

Petruchio. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.



Katherina. Yet you are wither'd.

Petruchio. 'Tis with cares.



Katherina. I care not.

Petruchio. Nay, hear you, Kate- in sooth, you scape not so.



Katherina. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.

Petruchio. 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 springtime 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 sland'rous 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.



Katherina. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.

Petruchio. 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!



Katherina. Where did you study all this goodly speech?

Petruchio. It is extempore, from my mother wit.



Katherina. A witty mother! witless else her son.

Petruchio. Am I not wise?



Katherina. Yes, keep you warm.

Petruchio. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, 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 Katherine to my wife.



Baptista Minola. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?

Petruchio. How but well, sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.



Katherina. Call 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-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

Petruchio. Father, '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.



Tranio. Is this your speeding? Nay, then good-night our part!

Petruchio. Be patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself;
If she and I be pleas'd, 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 Katherine shall be fine.



Gremio. [with TRANIO:] Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.

Petruchio. 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 a Sunday.



(stage directions). Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO

Petruchio. Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home?



Baptista Minola. You are welcome, sir.

Petruchio. And yet I come not well.



Tranio. Not so well apparell'd
As I wish you were.

Petruchio. Were it better, I should rush in thus.
But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?
How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown;
And wherefore gaze this goodly company
As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet or unusual prodigy?



Tranio. And tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Petruchio. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
Though in some part enforced to digress,
Which at more leisure I will so excuse
As you shall well be satisfied withal.
But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.



Tranio. See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

Petruchio. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.



Baptista Minola. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

Petruchio. Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words;
To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
Could I repair what she will wear in me
As I can change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride
And seal the title with a lovely kiss!



Gremio. Trembled and shook, for why he stamp'd and swore
As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
But after many ceremonies done
He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face,
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck,
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the church did echo.
And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
Such a mad marriage never was before.
Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play. [Music plays]

Petruchio. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me to-day,
And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer
But so it is- my haste doth call me hence,
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.



Baptista Minola. Is't possible you will away to-night?

Petruchio. I must away to-day before night come.
Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go than stay.
And, honest company, I thank you all
That have beheld me give away myself
To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
For I must hence; and farewell to you all.



Tranio. Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.

Petruchio. It may not be.



Gremio. Let me entreat you.

Petruchio. It cannot be.



Katherina. Let me entreat you.

Petruchio. I am content.



Katherina. Are you content to stay?

Petruchio. I am content you shall entreat me stay;
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.



Katherina. Now, if you love me, stay.

Petruchio. Grumio, my horse.



Katherina. Nay, then,
Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom
That take it on you at the first so roundly.

Petruchio. O Kate, content thee; prithee be not angry.



Katherina. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
I see a woman may be made a fool
If she had not a spirit to resist.

Petruchio. They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
Carouse full measure to her maidenhead;
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.
But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
I will be master of what is mine own-
She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,
My household stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing,
And here she stands; touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a million.



(stage directions). Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA

Petruchio. Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?



Servants. Here, here, sir; here, sir.

Petruchio. Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?



Grumio. Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

Petruchio. YOU peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?



Grumio. Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' th' heel;
There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing;
There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;
The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.

Petruchio. Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
[Exeunt some of the SERVINGMEN]
[Sings] Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those-
Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud!
[Re-enter SERVANTS with supper]
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
[Sings] It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way-
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry;
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
[Strikes him]
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here, what, ho!
[Enter one with water]
Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? [Strikes him]



Katherina. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.

Petruchio. A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?
What's this? Mutton?



First Servant. Ay.

Petruchio. Who brought it?



Peter. I.

Petruchio. 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook?
How durst you villains bring it from the dresser
And serve it thus to me that love it not?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
[Throws the meat, etc., at them]
You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.



Katherina. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
The meat was well, if you were so contented.

Petruchio. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended.
And for this night we'll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt



(stage directions). Re-enter PETRUCHIO

Petruchio. Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty.
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
I'll find about the making of the bed;
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets;
Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
That all is done in reverend care of her-
And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night;
And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness,
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show. Exit



(stage directions). Enter PETRUCHIO, and HORTENSIO with meat

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



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.
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.



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 brav'ry.
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
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.
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.



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 a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?



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

Petruchio. Marry, and did; but if you be rememb'red,
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
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 bemete 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. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.

Petruchio. Read it.



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 bread; I
said a gown.

Petruchio. Proceed.



Tailor. [Reads] 'The sleeves curiously cut.'

Petruchio. Ay, there's the villainy.



Hortensio. God-a-mercy, Grumio! Then he shall have no odds.

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



Grumio. You are i' th' right, sir; 'tis for my mistress.

Petruchio. Go, take it up unto thy master's use.



Grumio. Villain, not for thy life! Take up my mistress' gown for
thy master's use!

Petruchio. 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!

Petruchio. [Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.-
Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.



Hortensio. Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow;
Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say; commend me to thy master. Exit TAILOR

Petruchio. 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.



Katherina. I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two,
And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.

Petruchio. 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 to-day; and ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.




Petruchio. Come on, a God's name; once more toward our father's.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!



Katherina. The moon? The sun! It is not moonlight now.

Petruchio. I say it is the moon that shines so bright.



Katherina. I know it is the sun that shines so bright.

Petruchio. Now by my mother's son, and that's myself,
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house.
Go on and fetch our horses back again.
Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!



Katherina. Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
And if you please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

Petruchio. I say it is the moon.



Katherina. I know it is the moon.

Petruchio. Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.



Hortensio. Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won.

Petruchio. Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But, soft! Company is coming here.
[To VINCENTIO] Good-morrow, gentle mistress; where away?-
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.



Katherina. Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of so fair a child;
Happier the man whom favourable stars
Allots thee for his lovely bed-fellow.

Petruchio. Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad!
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is.



Katherina. Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
That have been so bedazzled with the sun
That everything I look on seemeth green;
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father.
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

Petruchio. Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travellest- if along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.



Vincentio. Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amaz'd me,
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
A son of mine, which long I have not seen.

Petruchio. What is his name?



Vincentio. Lucentio, gentle sir.

Petruchio. Happily met; the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee my loving father:
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be not grieved- she is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Beside, so qualified as may beseem
The spouse of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio;
And wander we to see thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.



Hortensio. I do assure thee, father, so it is.

Petruchio. Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.




Petruchio. Sir, here's the door; this is Lucentio's house;
My father's bears more toward the market-place;
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.



Pedant. Keep your hundred pounds to yourself; he shall need none so
long as I live.

Petruchio. Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. Do
you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell
Signior Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa, and is here
at the door to speak with him.



Pedant. Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.

Petruchio. [To VINCENTIO] Why, how now, gentleman!
Why, this is flat knavery to take upon you another man's name.



Pedant. Help, son! help, Signior Baptista! Exit from above

Petruchio. Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of this
controversy. [They stand aside]



Katherina. Husband, let's follow to see the end of this ado.

Petruchio. First kiss me, Kate, and we will.



Katherina. What, in the midst of the street?

Petruchio. What, art thou asham'd of me?



Katherina. No, sir; God forbid; but asham'd to kiss.

Petruchio. Why, then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.



Katherina. Nay, I will give thee a kiss; now pray thee, love, stay.

Petruchio. Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late. Exeunt



Lucentio. At last, though long, our jarring notes agree;
And time it is when raging war is done
To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.
Brother Petruchio, sister Katherina,
And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house.
My banquet is to close our stomachs up
After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
For now we sit to chat as well as eat. [They sit]

Petruchio. Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!



Baptista Minola. Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.

Petruchio. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.



Hortensio. For both our sakes I would that word were true.

Petruchio. Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.



Widow. Then never trust me if I be afeard.

Petruchio. YOU are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.



Widow. He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.

Petruchio. Roundly replied.



Widow. Thus I conceive by him.

Petruchio. Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?



Hortensio. My widow says thus she conceives her tale.

Petruchio. Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.



Katherina. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.

Petruchio. To her, Kate!



Hortensio. To her, widow!

Petruchio. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.



Hortensio. That's my office.

Petruchio. Spoke like an officer- ha' to thee, lad.



Bianca. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.

Petruchio. Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
Have at you for a bitter jest or two.



(stage directions). Exeunt BIANCA, KATHERINA, and WIDOW

Petruchio. She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.



Tranio. O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

Petruchio. A good swift simile, but something currish.



Hortensio. Confess, confess; hath he not hit you here?

Petruchio. 'A has a little gall'd me, I confess;
And, as the jest did glance away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.



Baptista Minola. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

Petruchio. Well, I say no; and therefore, for assurance,
Let's each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most obedient,
To come at first when he doth send for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.



Lucentio. Twenty crowns.

Petruchio. Twenty crowns?
I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.



Hortensio. Content.

Petruchio. A match! 'tis done.



Biondello. Sir, my mistress sends you word
That she is busy and she cannot come.

Petruchio. How! She's busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?



Gremio. Ay, and a kind one too.
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

Petruchio. I hope better.



Hortensio. Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
To come to me forthwith. Exit BIONDELLO

Petruchio. O, ho! entreat her!
Nay, then she must needs come.



Biondello. She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
She will not come; she bids you come to her.

Petruchio. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress;
Say I command her come to me. Exit GRUMIO



Hortensio. I know her answer.

Petruchio. What?



Hortensio. She will not.

Petruchio. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.



Katherina. What is your sir, that you send for me?

Petruchio. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?



Katherina. They sit conferring by the parlour fire.

Petruchio. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come.
Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.



Hortensio. And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.

Petruchio. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
An awful rule, and right supremacy;
And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.



Baptista Minola. Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.

Petruchio. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
[Re-enter KATHERINA with BIANCA and WIDOW]
See where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.



Bianca. The more fool you for laying on my duty.

Petruchio. Katherine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.



Widow. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.

Petruchio. Come on, I say; and first begin with her.



Widow. She shall not.

Petruchio. I say she shall. And first begin with her.



Katherina. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled-
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience-
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you forward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot;
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Petruchio. Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.



Lucentio. But a harsh hearing when women are froward.

Petruchio. Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
We three are married, but you two are sped.
[To LUCENTIO] 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
And being a winner, God give you good night!

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