Ay, by gogs-woons, quoth he; and fwore fo loud,
That all-amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
And as he ftoop'd again to take it up,

This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him fuch a cuff,
That down fell priest and book, and book and priest.
Now take them up, quoth he, if any lift.,

Tra. What faid the wench, when he rofe up again? Gre. Trembled and fhook; for why, he ftamp'd and fwore,

As if the vicar meant to cozen him.

But after many ceremonies done,

"He calls for wine: a health, quoth he; as if "H'ad been aboard caroufing to his mates "After a ftorm: quaft off the mufcadel, “And threw the fops all in the sexton's face; Having no other caufe, but that his beard "Grew thin and hungerly, and seem'd to ask "His fops as he was drinking. This done he took "The bride about the neck, and kifs'd her lips "With fuch a clamorous fmack, that at the parting "All the church echo'd ;" and I feeing this, Came thence for very fhame; and after me,

I know, the rout is coming. Such a mad marriage, Ne'er was before.-Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels. [Mufic plays.

SCENE VII.

Enter Petruchio, Catharina, Bianca, Hortenfio, and Baptifta.

Pet. 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 fo it is, my hafte doth call me hence;
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
Bap. Is't poffible you will away to-night?.
Pet. I muft away to-day, before night come.
Make it no wonder; if you knew my bufinefs,
You would intreat me rather
go than stay.
And, honeft company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away inyfelf

To

To this most patient, fweet, and wirtuous wife.
Dine with my father, drink a health to me,
For I muft hence, and farewell to you all.

Tra. Let us intreat you stay till after dinner.
Pet. It may not be.

Gre. Let me intreat you.

Pet. It cannot be.

Cath. Let me intreat you.

Pet. I am content

Cath. Are you content to stay?

Pet. I am content you fhall intreat my stay? But yet not stay, intreat me how you can. Cath. Now, if you love me, stay.

Pet. Grumio, my horfes.

Gru. Ay, Sir, they be ready: the oats have eaten the horfes *.

Cath. Nay, then.

Do what thou canft, I will not go to-day;
No, nor to-morrow, nor till I please myself.
The door is open, Sir, there lies your way.
You may
be jogging, while your boots are green;
For me, I'll not go till i please myself.
'Tis like you'll prove a jolly furly groom,
That take it on you at the first fo roundly.

Pet. O Kate, content thee, pr'ythee, be not angry.
Cath. I will be angry; what hast thou to do?
Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
Gre. Ay, marry, Sir; now it begins to work,
Cath. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner,
J fee, a woman may be made a fool,

If fhe had not a spirit to refist.

Pet. They fhall go forward, Kate, at thy command,

Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feaft, revel and domineer;
Carowfe 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 ftamp, nor stare, nor fret,
I will be mafter of what is mine own;

She is my goods, my chattels, fhe is my houfe,

*That is, the distemper fo called.

Tt 2

My

My houshold-stuff, my field, my barn, gnwold 23-2 My horfe, my ox, my afs, my any thing;

yaneb And here fhe ftands, touch her whoever dared,ello! I'll bring my action on the proudest he, That ftops my way in Padua: Grumio, Draw forth thy weapon; we're befet by thieves; Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man:

Fear not, fweet wench, they fhall not touch thee

Kate;

I'll buckler thee against a million.

[Exeunt Pet. and Cath. Bap. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. Gre. Went they not quickly, I fhould die with laughing.

Tra. Of all mad matches, never was the like.
Luc. Miftrefs, what's your opinion of your fifter?
Bian. That, being mad herself, fhe's madly mated.
Gre. I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

Bap. Neighbours and friends, tho' bride and bridegroom want

For to fupply the places at the table;

You know, there wants no junkets at the feaft;
Lucentio, you fupply the bridegroom's place;
And let Bianca take her fifter's room,

Tra. Shall fweet Bianca practise how to bride it ?
Bap. She fhall, Lucentio: Gentlemen, let's

Grumio.

A C T IV. SCENE I.

Petruchio's country-house.

FIE

Enter Grumio.

go,

IE, fie on all tired jades, and all mad mafters, and all foul ways! Was ever man beaten? was ever man fo raied? was ever man fo weary? I am fent before, to make a fire; and they are coming after, to warm them now were I not a little pot, and foon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I fhould come by a fire to thaw me; but I

with blowing the fire fhall warm myfelf; for, confidering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. Holla, hoa, Curtis !

Enter Curtis.

Curt. Who is it that calls fo coldly?

Gru. A piece of ice. If thou doubt it thou may't fide from my fhoulder to my heel, with no greater a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis, Curt. Is my mafter and his wife coming, Grumio? Gru. Oh, ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore, fire, fire; cast on no water.

Curt. Is fhe fo hot a fhrew as she's reported?

Gru. She was, good Curtis, before this froft; but thou know'ft, winter tames man, woman, and beast t; for it hath tam'd my old mafter, and my new mistress, and thyfelf, fellow Curtis.

Curt. Away, you three-inch'd fool; I am no beaft.

Gru. Am I but three inches? why, thy horn is a foot, and fo long am I at the leaft. But wilt thou make a fire, or fhall I complain on thee to our mistress? whofe hand, fhe being now at hand, thou fhalt foon feel to thy cold comfort, for being flow in thy hot office.

Curt. I pr'ythee, good Grumio, tell me how goes the world?

Gru. A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and, therefore, fire: do thy duty, and have thy duty; for my mafter and miftrefs are almoft frozen to death. Curt. There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.

Gru. Why, Jack boy, ho boy, and as much news as thou wilt *.

Curt. Come, you are fo full of coneycatching.

Gru. Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught exreme cold. Where's the cook? is fupper ready, the houfe trimm'd, rufhes ftrew'd, cobweb fwept, the ferving-men in their new fuftain, their white ftockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, carpets laid, and every thing in order?

* This feems to be a fragment of some old balad,

Curt.

Curt. All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, what news?

Gru. First, know, my horfe is tired, my mafter and miftrefs fall'n out.

Curt. How?

Gru. Out of their faddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.

Curt. Let's ha't, good Grumio.

Gru. Lend thine ear.

Curt. Here.

Gru. There.

[Strikes him.

Curt. This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.

Gru. And therefore 'tis call'd a fenfible tale: and this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and befeech liftening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my miftrefs.

Gurt. Both on one horse?
Gru. What's that to thee?
Curt. Why, a horse.

Gru." Tell thou the tale- But hadft thou not "crofs'd me, thou should't have heard how her horfe "fell, and the under her horfe: thou fhould't have heard "in how miry a place, how fhe was bemoil'd, how he " left her with the horfe upon her, how he beat me "because her horfe ftumbled, how the waded through "the dirt to pluck him off me'; how he swore, how "fhe pray'd that never pray'd before; how I cry'd; "how the horses ran away; how her bridle was burst; how I lost my crupper; with many things worthy of memory, which now fhall die in oblivion, and thou "return unexperience'd to thy grave."

66

Curt. By this reckoning he is more fhrew than fhe. Gru. Ay, and that thou and the proudeft of you all fhall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this call forth Nathaniel, Jofeph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarfop, and the reft; let their heads be fleekly comb'd, their blue coats brush'd, and their gar ters of an indifferent knit; let them curt'fy with their left legs, and not prefume to touch a hair of my mafter's horfe-tail, till they kifs their hands. Are they all ready?

Curt. They are.

Gru.