Enter HORTENSIO.

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

Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core ben trovato, may I say.

Hor. Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato

signior mio Petruchio.

Rise, Grumio, rise : we will compound this quarrel.
Gru. 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 ser-
vant 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.

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

Gru. 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?

Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. Hor. Petruchio, patience : I am Grumio's pledge. Why this? 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?

To seek their fortunes further 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.

Hor. 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 thou'rt too much my friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Pet. 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 burthen of my wooing dance,)
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sybil, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, 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.

Gru. Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is: why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though she have as many diseases as two and fifty horses. Why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.

Hor. 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.

Pet. 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.

Hor. Her father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman :
Her name is Katharina Minola,
Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.

Pet. 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.

Gru. I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O' my word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding would do little good upon him. She may, perhaps, call him half a score knaves, or so; why, that's nothing: an he begin once, he'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell

Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista's keep my treasure is:
He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
His youngest daughter, beautiful Biança,
And her withholds from me, and other more
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love;
Supposing it a thing impossible,

For those defects I have before rehears'd,
That ever Katharina will be woo'd:
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
That none shall have access unto Bianca,
Till Katharine the curst have got a husband.
Gru. Katharine the curst!

A title for a maid of all titles the worst.

Hor. Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace, And offer me, disguis'd in sober robes, To old Baptista as a school-master Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;

That so I may by this device, at least

Gru. Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together! Master, master, look about you: who goes there? ha! Hor. Peace, Grumio: 'tis the rival of my love. Petruchio, stand by a while.

Gru. A proper stripling, and an amorous!

[They retire.

Gre. O! very well; I have perus'd the note. Hark you, sir; I'll have them very fairly bound: All books of love, see that at any hand, And see you read no other lectures to her. You understand me. Over and beside

Signior Baptista's liberality,

I'll mend it with a largess. Take your papers, too,

And let me have them very well perfum'd,

For she is sweeter than perfume itself,

To whom they go. What will you read to her?

Luc. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you,

As for my patron, stand you so assur'd,
As firmly as yourself were still in place:
Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.

Gre. O, this learning! what a thing it is!
Gru. O, this woodcock! what an ass it is!
Pet. Peace, sirrah!

Hor. Grumio, mum!-[Coming forward.]-God save you, signior Gremio!

Gre. And you are well met, signior Hortensio.

Trow you, whither I am going? - To Baptista

Minola.

I promis'd to inquire carefully

About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca:

And, by good fortune, I have lighted well
On this young man; for learning, and behaviour,
Fit for her turn; well read in poetry,

And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.

Hor. 'Tis well: and I have met a gentleman

Hath promis'd me to help me to another,
A fine musician to instruct our mistress:
So shall I no whit be behind in duty

To fair Bianca, so belov'd of me.

Gre. Belov'd of me, and that my deeds shall prove. Gru. And that his bags shall prove.

Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love.

Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,
I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.
Here is a gentleman, whom by chance I met,
Upon agreement from us to his liking,
Will undertake to woo curst Katharine;
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.

Gre. So said, so done, is well.-
Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
Pet. I know, she is an irksome, brawling scold:
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

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

Gre. O! sir, such a life, with such a wife, were
strange;

But if you have a stomach, to't o' God's name:
You shall have me assisting you in all.

But will you woo this wild cat?

Gru. Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.
Pet. 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 the ear,
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs.

Gru.

Gre. Hortensio, hark.

For he fears none.

This gentleman is happily arriv'd,

My mind presumes, for his own good, and yours. Hor. I promis'd we would be contributors,

And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er.

Gre. And so we will, provided that he win her. Gru. I would, I were as sure of a good dinner.

Enter TRANIO, bravely apparelled; and BIONDELLO. Tra. Gentlemen, God save you! If I may be bold,

Tra. For what reason, I beseech you?
Gre. For this reason, if you'll know,
That she's the choice love of signior Gremio.

Hor. That she's the chosen of signior Hortensio.

Tra. Softly, my masters! if you be gentlemen,

Do me this right; hear me with patience.
Baptista is a noble gentleman,

To whom my father is not all unknown,
And were his daughter fairer than she is,
She may more suitors have, and me for one.
Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers;
Then, well one more may fair Bianca have,
And so she shall. Lucentio shall make one,
Though Paris came in hope to speed alone.

Gre. What! this gentleman will out-talk us all.
Luc. Sir, give him head: I know, he'll prove a

jade.

Pet. Hortensio, to what end are all these words? Hor. Sir, let me be so bold as ask you,

Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter?

Tra. 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.

Pet. Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.
Gre. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,

And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.

Pet. Sir, understand you this of me; insooth,
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.

Tra. If it be so, sir, that you are the man
Must stead us all, and me among the rest;
And if you break the ice, and do this seek,
Achieve the elder, set the younger free
For our access, whose hap shall be to have her
Will not so graceless be, to be ingrate.

Hor. Sir, you say well, and well you do conceive:
And since you do profess to be a suitor,
You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
To whom we all rest generally beholding.

Tra. Sir, I shall not be slack: in sign whereof, Please ye we may contrive this afternoon, And quaff carouses to our mistress' health; And do as adversaries do in law, Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

Gru. Bion. O, excellent motion! Fellows, let's

begone.

Hor. The motion's good indeed, and be it so.Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto. [Exeunt.

SCENE I. The Same. A Room in BAPTISTA'S House.

Enter KATHARINA and BIANCA.

Bian. Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself

To make a bondmaid, and a slave of me.
That I disdain; but for these other goods,
Unbind my hands I'll put 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.

Kath. Of all thy suitors, here I charge thee, tell
Whom thou lov'st best: see thou dissemble not.
Bian. Believe me, sister, of all the men alive,
I never yet beheld that special face

Which I could fancy more than any other.
Kath. Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio ?
Bian. If you affect him, sister, here I swear,
I'll plead for you myself, but you shall have him.
Kath. O! then, belike, you fancy riches more :
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.

Bian. Is 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 pr'ythee, sister Kate, untie my hands.

Kath. If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
[Strikes her.

Enter BAPTISTA.

Bap. Why, 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?

Kath. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd, [Flies after BIANCA. Bap. What! in my sight? -Bianca, get thee in. [Exit BIANCA. Kath. What! will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see,

She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance barefoot on her wedding-day,
And for your love to her lead apes in hell.

sake.

Gre. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too. Backare: you are marvellous forward.

Pet. O! pardon me, signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.

Gre. I 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, I 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.

Bap. A thousand thanks, signior Gremio: welcome, good Cambio. But, gentle sir, [TO TRANIO.] methinks, you walk like a stranger: may I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

Tra. Pardon 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.

Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray? Tra. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.

Bap. A mighty man of Pisa: by report

I know him well. You are very welcome, sir.Take you [To Hor.] the lute, and you [To Luc.]

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, with HORTENSIO, LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO.

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.

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

Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands, And in possession, twenty thousand crowns. Pet. 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 specialties be therefore drawn between us, That covenants may be kept on either hand.

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

Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;

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.

Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed!

But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words. Pet. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,

That shake not, though they blow perpetually Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broken. Bap. How now, my friend! why dost thou look so pale ?

Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mu

sician ?

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.

Pet. 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!

Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so dis

comfited:

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?

Pet. I pray you do; I will attend her here,

[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO,
and HORTENSIO.

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.

Enter KATHARINA.

Good-morrow, Kate, for that's your name, I hear. Kath. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:

They call me Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. 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;