 | Catharine and Petruchio |  |
ACT. II.
Enter BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO, CATHARINE, BIANCA and Attendants.Baptista.
Signior Hortensio, this is the 'pointed Day,
That Cath'rine and Petruchio 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 Hortensio to this Shame of ours?
Catharine.
No Shame but mine; I must, forsooth, be forc'd
To give my Hand oppos'd against my Heart,
Unto a mad-brain Rudesby, full of Spleen,
Who woo'd in Haste, and means to wed at Leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick Fool,
Hiding his bitter Jests in blunt Behaviour:
And to be noted for a merry Man,
He'll wooe a Thousand, 'point the Day of Marriage,
Make Friends, invite; yea, and proclaim the Banes,
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now muse the World point at poor Catharine,
If it would please him come and marry her.
Bianca.
Such hasty Matches seldom end in Good.
Hortensio.
Patience, good Cath'rine, and Bianca too;
Upon my Life, Petruchio means but well,
Whatever Fortune stays him from his Word;
Tho' he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
Catharine.
Wou'd I had never seen his Honesty.—
Oh! I could tear my Flesh for very Madness.
[Exit. Catharine.
Baptista.
Follow your Sister, Girl, and comfort her.
[Exit. Bianca.
I cannot blame thee now to weep and rage,
For such an Injury would vex a Saint;
Much more a Shrew of thy impatient Humour.—
Hortensio.
Was ever Match clapt up so suddenly!
Baptista.
Hortensio; faith I play a Merchant's Part,
And venture madly on a desp'rate Mart.
Hortensio.
'Twas a Commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you Gain, or perish on the Seas.
The Gain I seek is Quiet in the Match.
Hortensio.
No doubt Petruchio's got a quiet Catch.
Enter BIONDELLO.
Biondello.
Master, Master, News; and such News as you never heard of.
Baptista.
Is Petruchio come?
Biondello.
Why no, Sir.
Baptista.
What then?
Biondello.
He is coming; but how? Why 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 lac'd; an old rusty
Sword, ta'en out of the Town Armory, with a
broken Hilt, and chapeless, with two broken
Points; his Horse hip'd with an old mothy
Saddle, the Stirrups of no Kindred; besides possess'd
with the Glanders, and like to mose in the
Chine, troubled with the Lampasse, infected
with the Farcy, full of Windgalls, sped with
Fives, stark spoiled with the Staggers, be-gnawn
with the Bots, waid in the Back, and Shoulder
shotten, near legg'd before, and with a half check'd
Bit; and a Head-stall of Sheep-leather, which
being restrained, to keep him from stumbling,
hath been often burst, and now repaired with
Knots, one girt six Times piec'd, and a Woman's
Crupper of Velure, which hath two Letters
for her Name, fairly set down in Studs, and
here and there piec'd with Pack-thread.
Baptista.
Who comes with him?
Biondello.
O Sir, his Laquey, for all the World caparison'd
like the Horse, with a Linnen 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 prick'd upon it
for a Feather; a Monster! a very Monster in
Apparel, and not like a Christian Foot-Boy, or
a Gentleman's Lacquey.
Baptista
I am glad he's come, howsoever he comes.
Enter PETRUCHIO, and GRUMIO, fantastically habited.
Petruchio.
Come, where be these Gallants? Who is at Home?
You're welcome, Sir.
Petruchio.
Well am I come then, Sir.
Baptista.
Not so well 'parell'd as I wish you were.
Petruchio.
Why were it 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 wond'rous Monument,
Some Comet, or unusual Prodigy?
Baptista.
Why, Sir, you know this is your Wedding-Day,
First, we were sad, fearing you would not come,
Now sader, that you come so unprovided,
Fye! doff this Habit, Shame to your Estate;
An Eye-sore to our solemn Festival.
Hortensio.
And tell us what Occasion of Import
Hath all so long detained you from your Wife.
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
Petruchio.
Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
Let it suffice, I'm come to keep my Word;
But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
Hortensio.
See not your Bride in these unreverent Robes;
Go to my Chamber, put on Cloaths of mine.
Petruchio.
Not I, believe me, thus I'll visit her.
Baptista.
But thus I trust you will not marry her.
Petruchio.
Goodsooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with Words;
To me she's married, not unto my Cloaths:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could 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?
What ho! my Kate! my Kate!
[Exit. Pet.
Hortensio.
He hath some Meaning in this mad Attire:
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better e're he go to Church.
Baptista.
I'll after him, and see the Event of this.
[Exeunt all but Grumio.
Grumio.
He's gone swearing to Church with her. I
wou'd sooner have led her to the Gallows. If
he can but hold it, 'tis well—And if I know
were ever born with such Qualities to tame Women.—
When Madam goes home, we must look
for another-guise Master than we have had. We
shall see old Coil between 'em.—If I can spy into
Futurity a little, there will be much Clatter
among the Moveables, and some Practice for the
Surgeons. By this the Parson has given 'em his
Licence to fall together by the Ears.
Enter PEDRO.
Pedro.
Grumio, your Master bid me find you out,
and speed you to his Country House, to prepare
for his Reception, and if he finds not Things as
he expects 'em, according to the Directions that
he gave you, you know, he says, what follows:
This Message he delivered before his Bride, ev'n
in her Way to Church, and shook his Whip in
Token of his Love.
Grumio.
I understand it, Sir, and will convey the same
Token to my Horse immediately, that he may
take to his Heels, in order to save my Bones,
and his own Ribs.
Pedro.
So odd a Master, and so fit a Man,
Were never seen in Padua before.
Enter BIONDELLO.
Now, Biondello, came you from the Church?
As willingly as e'er I came from School.
Pedro.
And is the Bride, and Bridegroom coming home?
Biondello.
A Bridegroom say you? 'tis a Groom indeed;
A grumbling Groom, and that the Girl shall find.
Pedro.
Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
Biondello.
Why, he's a Devil; a Devil! a very Fiend!
Pedro.
Why she's a Devil; a Devil! the Devil's Dam.
Biondello.
Tut! she's a Lamb, a Dove, a Fool to him:
I'll tell you, Brother Pedro, when the Priest
Should ask if Catharine should be his Wife?
Aye, by Gogs-Wounds, quoth he, and swore so loud,
That all amaz'd the Priest let fall his Book;
And as he stoop'd again to take it up,
This mad-brain'd 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.
Pedro.
What said the Wench, when he rose up again?
Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd and swore,
As if the Vicar went to cozen him.
But after many Ceremonies done,
He calls for Wine; a Health, quoth he, as if
H'ad been aboard carousing to his Mates
After a Storm; quafft of the Muscadel,
And threw the Sops all in the Sexton's Face;
Having no other Cause, but that his Beard
Grew thin and hungerly, and seem'd to ask
His Sops, as he was drinking. This done, he took
The Bride about the Neck, and kiss'd her Lips
With such a clamorous Smack, that at the Parting
All the Church echo'd; 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—
[Musick.
Hark, hark, I hear the Minstrels play.
Enter PETRUCHIO (singing) CATHARINE, BIANCA, HORTENSIO, and BAPTISTA.
Petruchio.
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 so it is, my Haste doth call me hence;
And therefore, here I mean to take my Leave.
Is't possible you will away To-night?
Petruchio.
I must away To-day, before Night come.
Make it no wonder, if you knew my Business,
You would intreat 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.
Hortensio.
Let me intreat you, stay till after Dinner.
Petruchio.
It may not be.
Biondello.
Let me intreat you, that my Sister stay;
I come on Purpose to attend the Wedding;
And pass this Day in Mirth and Festival.
Petrucio.
It cannot be.
Catharine.
Let me intreat you.
Petruchio.
I am content.—
Catharine.
Are you content to stay?
I am content, you shall intreat my Stay;
But yet not stay, intreat me how you can.
Catharine.
Now if you love me stay.
Petruchio.
My Horses, there; what ho, my Horses, there—
Catharine.
Nay then,
Do what thou can'st, 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 surly Groom,
To take it on you at the first so roundly.
Baptista.
O Kate content thee; pr'ythee be not angry.
Catharine.
I will be angry; what hast thou to do;
Father be quiet, he shall stay my Leisure.
Hortensio.
Ay, marry, Sir, Now it begins to work:
Gentlemen, forward to the bridal Dinner.
I see a Woman may be made a Fool,
If she had not a Spirit to resist.
Petruchio.
They shall go forward, Kate, at thy Command.
Obey the Bride, you that attend on her:
Go to the Feast, revel and domineer;
Carouse 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 stamp, nor stare, nor fret,
I will be Master of what is mine own;
She is my Goods, my Chattles; she is my House,
My Houshold-stuff, my Field, my Barn,
My Horse, my Ox, my Ass, my any-thing;
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring my Action on the proudest he,
That stops my Way in Padua; Petruchio,
Draw forth thy Weapon, thou'art beset with Thieves;
Rescue thy Wife then, if thou be a Man;
Fear not sweet Wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a Million, Kate.
[Exuent Pet. and Cath.
Baptista.
Nay, let them go, a Couple of quiet Ones.
Of all mad Matches never was the like.
What's your Opinion of your gentle Sister?
Bianca.
That being mad herself, she's madly matched.
Baptista.
Neighbours and Friends, tho' Bride and Bridegroom want
For to supply the Places at the Table;
You know there wants no Junkets at the Feast:
Hortensio, you, supply the Bridegroom's Place,
And let Bianca take her Sster's Room.
Bianca.
My Sister's Room! were I in her's indeed,
This Swaggerer shou'd repent his Insolence.
[Exeunt Om.
Enter GRUMIO.
Grumio.
Fie, fie on all Jades, and all mad Masters,
and all foul Ways! Was ever Man so beaten?
Was ever Man so raide! was ever Man so
weary? I am sent before to make a Fire, and
they are coming after to warm them: Now
were I not a little Pot, and soon hot, my very
Lips might freeze to my Teeth, my Tongue
to the Roof of my Mouth, my Heart in my Belly,
e're I should come by a Fire, to thaw me,
but I with blowing the Fire shall warm myself,
for considering the Weather, a taller Man than
I will take Cold: Holla, hoa, Curtis!
Curtis.
Who is it that calls so coldly?
Grumio.
A piece of Ice. If thou doubt it, thou may'st
slide from my Shoulder to my Heel, with no
greater a Run but my Head and my Neck.
A Fire, good Curtis.
Curtis.
Is my Master and his Wife coming, Grumio?
Grumio.
Oh, ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore, Fire, Fire,
cast on no Water.
Curtis.
Is she so hot a Shrew as she's reported?
Grumio.
She was, good Curtis, before the Frost; but
thou know'st Winter tames Man, Woman, and
Beast, for it hath tam'd my old Master, and
my new Mistress, and my self, Fellow Curtis.
Curtis.
Away, you thick-pated Fool, I am no Beast.
Grumio.
Where's the Cook? Is Supper ready, the
House trim'd, Rushes strew'd, Cobwebs swept,
Stockings, and every Officer his Wedding-garments
on? Be the Jack's fair within, the Jill's
fair without, Carpets laid, and every Thing in
Order?
Curtis.
All ready: and therefore, I pray thee, what
News?
Grumio.
First know my Horse is tired, my Master and
Mistress fall'n out.
Curtis.
How?
Grumio.
Out of their Saddles into the Dirt; and thereby
hangs a Tale.
Curtis.
Let's ha't good Grumio.
Grumio.
Lend thine Ear.
Curtis.
Here.
Grumio.
There.
(Strikes him.
Curtis.
This is to feel a Tale, not to hear a Tale.
And therefore is call'd a sensible Tale: And
this Cuff was but to knock at your Ear, and
beseech listning. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came
down a foul Hill, my Master riding behind my
Mistress.—
Curtis.
Both on one Horse?
Grumio.
What's that to thee? tell thou the Tale. But
had'st thou not crost me, thou should'st have
heard how her Horse fell, and she under her
Horse, thou should'st have heard in how miry
a Place, how she was bemoild, how he
left her with the Horse upon her, how he
beat me because her Horse stumbled, how she
waded through the Dirt to pluck him off me;
how he swore, how she 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;
how my Mistress lost her Slippers, tore and bemit'd
her Garments, limp'd to the Farm-house,
put on Rebecca's old Shoes and Petticoat; with
many Things worthy of Memory, which now
shall die in Oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd
to thy Grave.
Curtis.
By this Reckoning he is more Shrew than she.
Grumio.
Ay, for the Nonce—and that, thou and the
proudest of you all shall find, when he come home.
But what talk I of this? call forth Nathaniel, Joseph,
rest: let their Heads be sleek-comb'd, their blue
Coats brush'd, and their Garters of an indifferent
Knit; let them curt'sy with their left Legs, and
not presume to touch a Hair of my Master's
Horse Tail, till they kiss their Hands. Are they
all ready?
Curtis.
They are.
Grumio.
Call them forth.
Curtis.
Do you hear, ho! Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas,
&c. Where are you?
Enter NATHANIEL, PHILIP, &c.
Nathaniel.
Welcome home, Grumio.
Philip.
How now, Grumio?
Peter.
What, Grumio!
Nicholas.
Fellow Grumio!
Nathaniel.
How now, old Lad!
Grumio.
Welcome you; how now, you; what you;
Fellow you; and thus much for greeting. Now,
neat?
Nathaniel.
All things are ready, how near is our Master?
Grumio.
E'en at Hand, alighted by this; and therefore
be not—Cock's Passion Silence, I hear
my Master.
Enter PETRUCHIO and CATHARINE.
Petruchio.
Where are these Knaves? What no Man at
Door, to hold my Stirrup, nor to take my Horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
All-Servants.
Here, here, Sir; here, Sir.
Petruchio.
Here, Sir; here, Sir; here, Sir; here Sir?
You loggerheaded, and unpolish'd Grooms:
What no Attendance, no Regard, no Duty?
Where is the foolish Knave I sent before?
Grumio.
Here, Sir, as foolish as I was before.
Petruchio.
You peasant Swain, you whoreson Malt-horse Drudge,
And bring along these rascal Knaves with thee?
Grumio.
Nathaniel's Coat, Sir, was not fully made:
And Gabriel's Pumps were all unpink'd i'th' Heel:
There was no Link to colour Peter's Hat,
And Walter's Dagger was not come from Sheathing:
There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory,
The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly:
Yet as they are, here are they come to meet you.
Petruchio.
Go, Rascals, go, and fetch my Supper in.
[Exeunt Servants.
Sings.
“Where are those”
And welcome.
Enter Servants with Supper.
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my Boots you Rogue: you Villains, when!—
Sings.
“As he forth walked on his Way.”
Take that, and mind the plucking off the other.
[Strikes him.
Be merry, Kate; some Water here. What hoa!
Where's my Spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
And bid my Cousin Ferdinand come hither:
One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
Where are my Slippers?—Shall I have some Water?
Enter Servant with Water.
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
[Servant lets fall the Water.
You whoreson Villain, will you let it fall?
Catharine.
Patience, I pray you, 'twas a Fault unwilling.
Petruchio.
A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd Knave!
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a Stomach.
Catharine.
Indeed I have:
And never was Repast so welcome to me:
Petruchio.
Will you give Thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?
Servant.
Yes.
Petruchio.
Who brought it?
Servant:
I.
Petruchio.
'Tis burnt, and so is all the Meat—
What Dogs are these! Where is the Rascal Cook?
How durst you, Villain, bring it from the Dresser,
And serve it thus to me, that love it not?
There; take it to you, Trenchers, Cups and all.
[Throws the Meat, &c. about.
You heedless jolt Heads, and unmanner'd Slaves.
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
[Exeunt all the Servants.
Catharine.
I pray you, Husband, be not so disquiet,
The Meat was well, and well I could have eat,
If you were so disposed; I'm sick with fasting.
Petruchio.
I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dry'd away,
And I expresly am forbid to touch it:
For it engenders Choler, planteth Anger;
And better it were that both of us did fast,
Since of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted Flesh—
And for this Night, we'll fast for Company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy Bridal Chamber.
[Exeunt.
Enter NATHANIEL and PETER.
Nathaniel.
Peter, didst thou ever see the like?
Peter.
He kills her in her own Humour. I did not
think so good and kind a Master cou'd have put
on so resolute a Bearing.
Grumio.
Where is he?
Enter CURTIS.
Curtis.
In her Chamber, making a Sermon of Continency
to her, and rails, and swears, and rates;
and she, poor Soul, knows not which Way to
stand, to look, to speak; and sits as one new
risen from a Dream. Away, away, for he is
coming hither.
[Exeunt.
Enter PETRUCHIO.
Petruchio.
Thus have I, politickly, begun my Reign,
And 'tis my Hope to end successfully:
And 'till she stoop, she must not be full gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her Lure.
Another Way I have to man my Haggard,
To make her come, and know her Keeper's Call:
That is, to watch her, as we watch these Kites,
That bit and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no Meat to-day, nor none shall eat:
Last Night she slept not, nor To-night shall not;
As with the Meat, some undeserved Fault
I'll find about the making of the Bed;
And here I'll sling the Pillow, there the Bolster,
This Way the Coverlet; that Way the Sheets;
Aye, and amid' this hurly, I'll pretend
That all is done in reverent Care of her;
And in Conclusion she shall watch all Night:
And if she chance to nod, I'll rail and brawl,
And with the Clamour keep her still awake.
This is a Way to kill a Wife with Kindness,
And thus I'll curb her mad and head-strong Humour—
He that knows better how to tame a Shrew,
Now let him speak, 'tis Charity to shew.
[Exit.
| Catharine and Petruchio | |