« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
Pet. Why, what's a moveable?
Cath. A join'd stool.
Pet. Thou haft hit it; come, fit on me.
Cath. Affes are made to bear, and fo are you.
Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you."
Cath. No fuch jade, Sir, as you; if me you mean.
Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee;
For knowing thee to be but young and light
Cath. Too light for fuch a fwain as you to catch;
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
Pet. Should bee;
fhould buz. Cath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
Pet. Oh, low-wing'd turtle, fhall a buzzard take
Cath. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
Pet.Come, come, you wafp, i'faith, you are too angry.
Cath. If I be wafpifh, best beware my fting.
Pet. My Remedy is then to pluck it out.
Cath. Ah, if the fool could find it, where it lies.
Pet. Who knows not, where a wasp doth wear his
Cath. In his tongue.
Pet. Whofe tongue ?
Cath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and fo farewel.
Pet. What with my tongue in your tail? nay, come
again, Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
Cath. That I'll try..
[She ftrikes him. Pet. I fwear, I'll cuff you, if you ftrike again. Cath. So may you lose your arms;
If you ftrike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why then, no arms.
Pet. A herald, Kate? oh, put me in thy books.
Cath. What is your crelt, a coxcomb?
Ay, for a turtle, as be takes a buzzard.] may read better,
Ay, for a turtle, and be takes a
That is, he may take me for a
turtle, and he thall find me a
Pet. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen. Cath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven. Pet. Nay, come, Kate; come, you must not look fo lower.
Cath. It is my fashion when I fee a crab.
Pet. Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not fo fower.
Cath. There is, there is.
: Pet. Then, fhew it me.
Cath. Had a glass, I would.
Pet. What, you mean my
Cath. Well aim'd of fuch a young one. →→→
Pet. Now by St. George, I am too young
Cath. Yet you are wither'd.
Pet. 'Tis with Cares.
Cath. I care not.
Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in footh, you 'fcape not fo.
Cath. I chafe you if I tarry; let me go.
Pet. No, not a whit; I find you paffing gentle: 'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy and fullen, And now I find Report a very liar;
For thou art pleasant, gamefom, paffing courteous,
But flow in fpeech, yet fweet as fpring-time flowers.
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look afcance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor haft thou pleasure to be cross in talk:
But thou with mildness entertain'ft thy wooers,
With gentle conf'rence, foft and affable.
Why doth the world report, that Kate doth limp?
Oh flanderous world! Kate, like the hazel-twig,
Is ftrait and flender; and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me fee thee walk; thou doft not halt.
Cath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'ft command. Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove, As Kate this chamber with her princely gaite? O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And then let Kate be chaft, and Dian Sportful!
Cath. Where did you ftudy all this goodly fpeech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Cath. A witty mother, witless else her fon.:
Pet. Am I not wife?
Cath. Yes; keep you warm.
Pet. Why fo I mean, fweet Catharine, in thy bed:
And therefore fetting all this chat afide,
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented,
That you fhall be my wife; your dow'ry '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 fee 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 s
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate,
Conformable as other houshold Kates;
Here comes your father, never make denial,
I muft and will have Catharine to my Wife,
Enter Baptifta, Gremio, and Tranio.
Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
Pet. How but well, Sir? how but well?
It were impoffible, I should speed arniss.
Bap. Why, how now daughter Catharine, in your
Cath. Call you me daughter now, I promise you,
You've fhew'd a tender fatherly regard,
To with me wed to one half lunatick;
A madcap ruffian, and a fwearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pat. Father, 'tis thus; yourself and all the World,
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amifs of her;
If fhe be curft, it is for policy;
For fhe's not froward, but modeft as the dove:
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience, the will prove a fecond Griffel;
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
And, to conclude, we've 'greed fo well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
Cath. I'll fee thee hang'd on Sunday first.
Gre. Hark: Petruchio! the fays, fhe'll fee thee
Tra. Is this your fpeeding? nay, then, good night, our part!
Pet. Be patient, Sirs, I chufe her for myself;
If the and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curft in company.
I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me; oh, the kindeft Kate!
She hung about my neck, and kifs on kiss*.
She vy'd fo faft, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink the won me to her love.
Oh, you are novices; 'tis a world to fee,
How tame, (when men and women are alone)
A meacock wretch can make the curftest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding day;
Father, provide the feaft, and bid the guests;
I will be fure, my Catharine fhall be fine.
kifs on kifs!
-] I know
She vy'd fo faft,
not that the word vie has any
conftruction that will fuit this
Bap. I know not what to fay, but give your
God fend you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
Gre. Tra, Amen, fay we; we will be witnesses.
Pet. Father, and Wife, and Gentlemen, adieu;
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,
We will have rings and things, and fine array;
And kifs me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday.
[Ex. Petruchio, and Catharine severally.
place; we may eafily read,
Kifs on kifs
She ply'd fo faft.
Gre. Was ever match clapt up fo fuddenly?
Bap. Faith, gentlemen, I play a merchant's
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
Twill bring you gain, or perifh on the feas.
Bap. The gain I feek is quiet in the match.
Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch:
But now, Baptifta, to your younger daughter;
Now is the day we long have look'd for:
I am your neighbour, and was fuitor firft,
Tra. And I am one, that love Bianca more Than words can witnefs, or your thoughts can guess, Gre. Youngling!- thou canst not love fo dear as I, Tra. Grey-beard! 'thy love doth freeze. Gre. But thine doth fry'.
Skipper, ftand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.
Tra. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourifheth.
Bap. Content you, Gentlemen, I will compound this
'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he, of both, That can affure my daughter greatest dower, Shall have Bianca's love.
Say, Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?
Gre. Firft, as you know, my houfe within the city Is richly furnished with plate and gold, Bafons and ewers to lave her dainty hands: My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;