Act III, Scene ii: The same. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day | |
| | That Katherine 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 Lucentio to this shame of ours? | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | 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 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 invited, and proclaim the banns; | |
| | Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd. | |
| | Now must the world point at poor Katherine, | |
| | And say 'Lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife, | |
| | If it would please him come and marry her.' | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista too. | |
| | Upon my life, Petruchio 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. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Would Katherine had never seen him though! | |
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[Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others.]
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| | 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. | |
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| | Master, master! News! old news, and such news as you never heard | |
| | of! | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Is it new and old too? How may that be? | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming? | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | When will he be here? | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | When he stands where I am and sees you there. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | But, say, what to thine old news? | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | Why, Petruchio 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, swayed in | |
| | the back and shoulder-shotten; near-legged before, and with a | |
| | half-checked bit, and a head-stall 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 velure, which hath two letters for her | |
| | name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with | |
| | pack-thread. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Who comes with him? | |
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| | 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' prick'd in't for a feather: a | |
| | monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian | |
| | footboy or a gentleman's lackey. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion; | |
| | Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes. | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | Why, sir, he comes not. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Didst thou not say he comes? | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | Who? that Petruchio came? | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Ay, that Petruchio came. | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| | No, sir; I say his horse comes, with him on his back. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Why, that's all one. | |
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| | BIONDELLO: | |
| Nay, by Saint Jamy, | |
| I hold you a penny, | |
| A horse and a man | |
| Is more than one, | |
| And yet not many. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | Come, where be these gallants? Who is at home? | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | You are welcome, sir. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | And yet I come not well. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | And yet you halt not. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Not so well apparell'd | |
| | As I wish you were. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | 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 wondrous monument, | |
| | Some comet or unusual prodigy? | |
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| | 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 eye-sore to our solemn festival. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | And tell us what occasion of import | |
| | Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, | |
| | And sent you hither so unlike yourself? | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | 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. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | See not your bride in these unreverent robes; | |
| | Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | But thus, I trust, you will not marry her. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | 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! | |
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[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, GRUMIO, and BIODELLO.]
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| | 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. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | I'll after him and see the event of this. | |
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[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO and ATTENDENTS.]
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | But to her 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 | |
| | It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn,— | |
| | 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. | |
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| | LUCENTIO: | |
| | Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster | |
| | Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, | |
| | 'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage; | |
| | Which once perform'd, let all the world say no, | |
| | I'll keep mine own despite of all the world. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | That by degrees we mean to look into, | |
| | And watch our vantage in this business. | |
| | We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio, | |
| | The narrow-prying father, Minola, | |
| | The quaint musician, amorous Licio; | |
| | All for my master's sake, Lucentio. | |
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| | Signior Gremio, came you from the church? | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | As willingly as e'er I came from school. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | And is the bride and bridegroom coming home? | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed, | |
| | A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him. | |
| | I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest | |
| | Should ask if Katherine should be his wife, | |
| | 'Ay, by gogs-wouns' quoth he, and swore so loud | |
| | That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book; | |
| | And as he stoop'd again to take it up, | |
| | The 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.' | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | What said the wench, when he rose again? | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Trembled and shook, for why, he stamp'd 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 abroad, carousing to his mates | |
| | After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel, | |
| | And threw the sops all in the sexton's face, | |
| | Having no other reason | |
| | But that his beard grew thin and hungerly | |
| | And seem'd to ask him 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 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. | |
| | Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play. | |
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[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO,GRUMIO, and Train.]
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| | 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 haste doth call me hence, | |
| | And therefore here I mean to take my leave. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Is't possible you will away to-night? | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | I must away to-day 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. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Let us entreat you stay till after dinner. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | It may not be. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Let me entreat you. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Let me entreat you. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Are you content to stay? | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | I am content you shall entreat me stay; | |
| | But yet not stay, entreat me how you can. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Now, if you love me, stay. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | Grumio, my horse! | |
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| | GRUMIO: | |
| | Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Nay, then, | |
| | Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day; | |
| | No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself. | |
| | The door is open, sir; there lies your way; | |
| | You may be jogging whiles your boots are green; | |
| | For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself. | |
| | 'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom | |
| | That take it on you at the first so roundly. | |
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| | PETRUCHIO: | |
| | O Kate! content thee: prithee be not angry. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | I will be angry: what hast thou to do? | |
| | Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work. | |
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| | KATHERINA: | |
| | Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner: | |
| | I see a woman may be made a fool, | |
| | If she had not a spirit to resist. | |
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| | 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 chattels; she is my house, | |
| | My household stuff, my field, my barn, | |
| | My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything; | |
| | And here she stands, touch her whoever dare; | |
| | I'll bring mine action on the proudest he | |
| | That stops my way in Padua. Grumio, | |
| | Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves; | |
| | Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man. | |
| | Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate; | |
| | I'll buckler thee against a million. | |
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[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and GRUMIO.]
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Of all mad matches, never was the like. | |
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| | LUCENTIO: | |
| | Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister? | |
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| | BIANCA: | |
| | That, being mad herself, she's madly mated. | |
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| | GREMIO: | |
| | I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated. | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants | |
| | For to supply the places at the table, | |
| | You know there wants no junkets at the feast. | |
| | Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place; | |
| | And let Bianca take her sister's room. | |
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| | TRANIO: | |
| | Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it? | |
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| | BAPTISTA: | |
| | She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go. | |
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