Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio, and Bianca. Tranio, Biondello Grumio, and Widdow: The Seruingmen with Tranio bringing in a Banquet.
Luc. At last, though long, our iarring notes agree, And time it is when raging warre is come, To smile at scapes and perils ouerblowne: My faire Bianca bid my father welcome, While I with selfesame kindnesse welcome thine: Brother Petruchio, sister Katerina, And thou Hortentio with thy louing Widdow: Feast with the best, and welcome to my house, My Banket is to close our stomakes vp After our great good cheere: praie you sit downe, For now we sit to chat as well as eate.
Petr. Nothing but sit and sit, and eate and eate.
Bap. Padua affords this kindnesse, sonne Petruchio.
Petr. Padua affords nothing but what is kinde.
Hor. For both our sakes I would that word were true.
Pet. Now for my life Hortentio feares his Widow.
Wid. Then neuer trust me if I be affeard.
Petr. You are verie sencible, and yet you misse my sence: I meane Hortentio is afeard of you.
Wid. He that is giddie thinks the world turns round.
Petr. Roundlie replied.
Kat. Mistris, how meane you that?
Wid. Thus I conceiue by him.
Petr. Conceiues by me, how likes Hortentio that?
Hor. My Widdow saies, thus she conceiues her tale.
Petr. Verie well mended: kisse him for that good Widdow.
Kat. He that is giddie thinkes the world turnes round, I praie you tell me what you meant by that.
Wid. Your housband being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husbands sorrow by his woe: And now you know my meaning.
Kate. A verie meane meaning.
Wid. Right, I meane you.
Kat. And I am meane indeede, respecting you.
Petr. To her Kate.
Hor. To her Widdow.
Petr. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
Hor. That's my office
Petr. Spoke like an Officer: ha to the lad. Drinkes to Hortentio.
Bap. How likes Gremio these quicke witted folkes?
Gre. Beleeue me sir, they But together well.
Bian. Head, and but an hastie witted bodie, Would say your Head and But were head and horne.
Vin. I Mistris Bride, hath that awakened you?
Bian. I, but not frighted me, therefore Ile sleepe againe.
Petr. Nay that you shall not since you haue begun: Haue at you for a better iest or too.
Bian. Am I your Bird, I meane to shift my bush, And then pursue me as you draw your Bow. Exit Bianca.You are welcome all.
Petr. She hath preuented me, here signior Tranio, This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not, Therefore a health to all that shot and mist.
Tri. Oh sir, Lucentio slipt me like his Gray-hound, Which runs himselfe, and catches for his Master.
Petr. A good swift simile, but something currish.
Tra. 'Tis well sir that you hunted for your selfe: 'Tis thought your Deere does hold you at a baie.
Bap. Oh, oh Petruchio, Tranio hits you now.
Luc. I thanke thee for that gird good Tranio.
Hor. Confesse, confesse, hath he not hit you here?
Petr. A has a little gald me I confesse: And as the Iest did glaunce awaie from me, 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you too out right.
Bap. Now in good sadnesse sonne Petruchio, I thinke thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
Petr. Well, I say no: and therefore sir assurance, Let's each one send vnto 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.
Hort. Content, what's the wager?
Luc. Twentie crownes.
Petr. Twentie crownes, Ile venture so much of my Hawke or Hound, But twentie times so much vpon my Wife.
Luc. A hundred then.
Hor. Content.
Petr. A match, 'tis done.
Hor. Who shall begin?
Luc. That will I. Goe Biondello, bid your Mistris come to me.
Bio. Exit.I goe.
Bap. Sonne, Ile be your halfe, Bianca comes.
Luc. Ile haue no halues: Ile beare it all my selfe. Enter Biondello. How now, what newes?
Bio. Sir, my Mistris sends you word That she is busie, and she cannot come.
Petr. How? she's busie, and she cannot come: is that an answere?
Gre. I, and a kinde one too: Praie God sir your wife send you not a worse.
Petr. I hope better.
Hor. Sirra Biondello, goe and intreate my wife to Exit. Bion.come to me forthwith.
Pet. Oh ho, intreate her, nay then shee must needes come.
Hor. I am affraid sir, doe what you can Enter Biondello. Yours will not be entreated: Now, where's my wife?
Bion. She saies you haue some goodly Iest in hand, She will not come: she bids you come to her.
Petr. Worse and worse, she will not come: Oh vilde, intollerable, not to be indur'd: Sirra Grumio, goe to your Mistris, Exit.Say I command her come to me.
Hor. I know her answere.
Pet. What?
Hor. She will not.
Petr. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Enter Katerina.
Bap. Now by my hollidam here comes Katerina.
Kat. What is your will sir, that you send for me?
Petr. Where is your sister, and Hortensios wife?
Kate. They sit conferring by the Parler fire.
Petr. Goe fetch them hither, if they denie to come, Swinge me them soundly forth vnto their husbands: Away I say, and bring them hither straight.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talke of a wonder.
Hor. And so it is: I wonder what it boads.
Petr. Marrie peace it boads, and loue, and quiet life, An awfull rule, and right supremicie: And to be short, what not, that's sweete and happie.
Bap. Now faire befall thee good Petruchio; The wager thou hast won, and I will adde Vnto their losses twentie thousand crownes, Another dowrie to another daughter, For she is chang'd as she had neuer bin.
Petr. Nay, I will win my wager better yet, And show more signe of her obedience, Her new built vertue and obedience. Enter Kate, Bianca, and Widdow. See where she comes, and brings your froward Wiues As prisoners to her womanlie perswasion: Katerine, that Cap of yours becomes you not, Off with that bable, throw it vnderfoote.
Wid. Lord let me neuer haue a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a sillie passe.
Bian. Fie what a foolish dutie call you this?
Luc. I would your dutie were as foolish too: The wisdome of your dutie faire Bianca, Hath cost me fiue hundred crownes since supper time.
Bian. The more foole you for laying on my dutie.
Pet. Katherine I charge thee tell these head-strong women, what dutie they doe owe their Lords and husbands.
Wid. Come, come, your mocking: we will haue no telling.
Pet. Come on I say, and first begin with her.
Wid. She shall not.
Pet. I say she shall, and first begin with her.
Kate. Fie, fie, vnknit that threatning vnkinde brow, And dart not scornefull glances from those eies, To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Gouernour. It blots thy beautie, as frosts doe bite the Meads, Confounds thy fame, as whirlewinds shake faire budds, And in no sence is meete or amiable. A woman mou'd, is like a fountaine troubled, Muddie, ill seeming, thicke, bereft of beautie, And while it is so, none so dry or thirstie Will daigne to sip, or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy Lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy soueraigne: One that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance. Commits his body To painfull labour, both by sea and land: To watch the night in stormes, the day in cold, Whil'st thou ly'st warme at home, secure and safe, And craues no other tribute at thy hands, But loue, faire lookes, and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt. Such dutie as the subiect owes the Prince, Euen such a woman oweth to her husband: And when she is froward, peeuish, sullen, sowre, And not obedient to his honest will, What is she but a foule contending Rebell, And gracelesse Traitor to her louing Lord? I am asham'd that women are so simple, To offer warre, where they should kneele for peace: Or seeke for rule, supremacie, and sway, When they are bound to serue, loue, and obay. Why are our bodies soft, and weake, and smooth, Vnapt to toyle and trouble in the world, But that our soft conditions, and our harts, Should well agree with our externall parts? Come, come, you froward and vnable wormes, My minde hath bin as bigge as one of yours, My heart as great, my reason haplie more, To bandie word for word, and frowne for frowne; But now I see our Launces are but strawes: Our strength as weake, our weakenesse past compare, That seeming to be most, which we indeed least are. Then vale your stomackes, for it is no boote, And place your hands below your husbands foote: In token of which dutie, if he please, My hand is readie, may it do him ease.
Pet. Why there's a wench: Come on, and kisse mee Kate.
Luc. Well go thy waies olde Lad for thou shalt ha't.
Vin. Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.
Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are froward,
Pet. Come Kate, wee'le to bed, We three are married, but you two are sped. 'Twas I wonne the wager, though you hit the white, And being a winner, God giue you good night. Exit Petruchio
Horten. Now goe thy wayes, thou hast tam'd a curst Shrow.
Luc. Tis a wonder, by your leaue, she wil be tam'd so.
