If not, to Signor Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIO
Adieu, 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 ! I
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
Exit
TRANIO
A vengeance on your crafty withered 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 called 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
3.1 Enter Lucentio with books, as Cambio, Hortensio with a lute, as Licio, and Bianca
LUCENTIO
Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcomed you withal?
HORTENSIO
But, wrangling pedant, this Bianca is,
The patroness of heavenly harmony.
Then give me leave to have prerogative,
And when in music we have spent an hour
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
LUCENTIO
Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordained!
Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his studies or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And while I pause, serve in your harmony.
HORTENSIO
Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
BIANCA
Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong
To strive for that which resteth in my choice.
I am no breeching scholar in the schools.
I’ll not be tied to hours nor ‘pointed times,
But learn my lessons as I please myself;
And to cut off all strife, here sit we down.
(To Hortensio) Take you your instrument, play you the
whiles.
His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
HORTENSIO
You’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIO
That will be never. Tune your instrument.
Hortensio tunes his lute. Lucentio opens a book
BIANCA Where left we last?
LUCENTIO Here, madam.
(Reads) ‘Hie ibat Simois, hie est Sigeia tellus, Hie steterat Priami regia celsa senis.’
BIANCA Construe them.
LUCENTIO ‘Hie ibat’, as I told you before—‘Simois’, I am Lucentio—‘hic est’, son unto Vincentio of Pisa-‘Sigeia tellus’, disguised thus to get your love—‘hic steterat’, and that Lucentio that comes a-wooing—‘Priami’, is my man Tranio—‘regia’, bearing my port—‘celsa senis’, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
HORTENSIO Madam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCA Let’s hear. (Hortensio plays) O fie, the treble jars.
LUCENTIO Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Hortensio tunes his lute again
BIANCA Now let me see if I can construe it. ‘Hic ibat Simois’, I know you not—‘hic est Sigeia tellus’, I trust you not—‘hic steterat Priami’, take heed he hear us not—‘regia’, presume not—‘celsa senis’, despair not.
HORTENSIO
Madam, ’tis now in tune.
LUCENTIO All but the bass.
HORTENSIO
The bass is right, ’tis the base knave that jars.
(Aside) How fiery and forward our pedant is!
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
Pedascule, I’ll watch you better yet.
BIANCA (to Lucentio)
In time I may believe; yet, I mistrust.
LUCENTIO
Mistrust it not, for sure Aeacides
Was Ajax, called so from his grandfather.
BIANCA
I must believe my master, else, I promise you,
I should be arguing still upon that doubt.
But let it rest. Now Licio, to you.
Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO (to Lucentio)
You may go walk and give me leave awhile.
My lessons make no music in three parts.
LUCENTIO
Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait.
(Aside) And watch withal, for but I be deceived
Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIO
Madam, before you touch the instrument
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art,
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual
Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
He gives a paper
BIANCA
Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
HORTENSIO
Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
BIANCA (reads)
‘Gam-ut I am, the ground of all accord, A—re—to plead Hortensio’s passion.
B—mi—Bianca, take him for thy lord, C—fa, ut—that loves with all affection.
D—so), re—one clef, two notes have I,
E—la, mi—show pity, or I die.’
Call you this gamut? Tut, I like it not.
Old fashions please me best. I am not so nice
To change true rules for odd inventions.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER
Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
And help to dress your sister’s chamber up.
You know tomorrow is the wedding day.
BIANCA
Farewell, sweet masters both. I must be gone.
LUCENTIO
Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
Exeunt Bianca, Messenger, and Lucentio
HORTENSIO
But I have cause to pry into this pedant.
Methinks he looks as though he were in love.
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
To cast thy wand’ring eyes on every stale,
Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging,
Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.
Exit
3.2 Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio as Lucentio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants
BAPTISTA (to Tranio)
Signor Lucentio, this is the ‘pointed day
That Katherine and Petruccio should be married,
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
What will be said, what mockery will it be,
To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
KATHERINE
No shame but mine. I must forsooth be forced
To give my hand opposed against my heart
Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen, 10
Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour,
And to be noted for a merry man
He’ll woo a thousand, ‘point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite them, and proclaim the banns,
Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed.
Now must the world point at poor Katherine
And say ‘Lo, there is mad Petruccio’s wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.’
TRANIO
Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista, too.
Upon my life, Petruccio means but well.
Whatever fortune stays him from his word,
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he’s honest.
KATHERINE
Would Katherine had never seen him, though.
Exit weeping
BAPTISTA
Go, girl. I cannot blame thee now to weep.
For such an injury would vex a very saint,
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
Enter Biondello
BIONDELLO Master, master, news—old news, and such news as you never heard of. 31
BAPTISTA Is it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLO Why, is it not news to hear of Petruccio’s coming?
BAPTISTA Is he come? 35
BIONDELLO Why, no, sir.
BAPTISTA What then?
BIONDELLO He is coming.
BAPTISTA When will he be here?
BIONDELLO When he stands where I am and sees you there. 41
TRANIO But say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLO Why, Petruccio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice-turned, a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced, an old rusty sword ta’en out of the town armoury with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with two broken points, his horse hipped, with an old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred, besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose in the chine, troubled with the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, weighed in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legged before and with a half-cheeked bit and a headstall of sheep’s leather which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst and now repaired with knots, one girth six times pieced, and a woman’s crupper of velour which hath two letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.
BAPTISTA Who comes with him?
BIONDELLO O sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned like the horse, with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies pricked in’t for a feather—a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian footboy or a gentleman’s lackey.
TRANIO
’Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparelled.
BAPTISTA
I am glad he’s come, howsoe’er he comes.
BIONDELLO Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO Who? That Petruccio came? 75
BAPTISTA Ay, that Petruccio came.
BIONDELLO No, sir. I say his horse comes with him on his back.
BAPTISTA
Why, that’s all one.
BIONDELLO
Nay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man
Is more than one,
And yet not many.
Enter Petruccio and Grumio, fantastically dressed
PETRUCCIO Come, where be these gallants? Who’s at home?
BAPTISTA You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCCIO And yet I come not well.
BAPTISTA And yet you halt not.
TRANIO
Not so well apparelled as I wish you were.
PETRUCCIO
Were it not 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?
BAPTISTA
Why, sir, you know this is your wedding day.
First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
Now sadder that you come so unprovided.
Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eyesore to our solemn festival.
TRANIO
And tell us what occasion of import
Hath all so long detained you from your wife
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCCIO
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.
PETRUCCIO
Not I, believe me. Thus I’ll visit her.
BAPTISTA
But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCCIO
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!
Exit With Grumiol
TRANIO
He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
[Exit with Gremio]
BAPTISTA
I’ll after him, and see the event of this.
[Exeunt]
3.3 [Enter Lucentio as Cambio, and Tranio as Lucentio]
TRANIO
But, sir, to love concerneth us to add
Her father’s liking, which to bring to pass,
As I before imparted to your worship,
I am to get a man—whate’er he be
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
And make assurance here in Padua
Of greater sums than I have promised.
So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
LUCENTIO
Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster
Doth watch Bianca’s steps so narrowly,
‘Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage,
Which once performed, let all the world say no,
I’ll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
TRANIO
That by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business.
We’ll overreach the greybeard Gremio,
The narrow-prying father Minola,
The quaint musician, amorous Licio,
All for my master’s sake, Lucentio.
Enter Gremio
Signor Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIO
As willingly as e’er I came from school.
TRANIO
And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIO
A bridegroom, say you? ’Tis a groom indeed—
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIO
Curster than she? Why, ’tis impossible.
GREMIO
Why, he’s a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIO
Why, she’s a devil, a devil, the devil’s dam.
GREMIO
Tut, she’s a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.
I’ll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
Should ask if Kath
erine should be his wife,
‘Ay, by Gog’s woun’s,’ quoth he, and swore so loud
That all amazed the priest let fall the book,
And as he stooped again to take it up
This mad-brained bridegroom took him such a cuff
That down fell priest, and book, and book, and priest.
‘Now take them up,’ quoth he, ‘if any list.’
TRANIO
What said the vicar when he rose again?
GREMIO
Trembled and shook, forwhy he stamped 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 aboard, carousing to his mates
After a storm; quaffed off the muscatel
And threw the sops all in the sexton’s face,
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seemed to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck
And kissed 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.
Music plays
Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.
Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio as
Licio, Baptista, Grumio, and others, attendants
PETRUCCIO
Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me today,
And have prepared 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
Is’t possible you will away tonight?
PETRUCCIO
I must away today, 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.