READ STUDY GUIDE: Act IV, scenes i–ii |
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Act IV, Scene i:
A hall in PETRUCHIO'S country house.
A hall in PETRUCHIO'S country house.
| [Enter GRUMIO.] |
| GRUMIO: |
| Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all |
| foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so ray'd? Was |
| ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are |
| coming after to warm them. Now, were not I 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, ere 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, ho! Curtis! |
| [Enter CURTIS.] |
| CURTIS: |
| Who is that calls so coldly? |
| GRUMIO: |
| A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst 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: |
| O, 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 this frost; but thou knowest |
| winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tamed my old |
| master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis. |
| CURTIS: |
| Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot; and so long |
| am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain |
| on thee to our mistress, whose hand,—she being now at hand,— |
| thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy |
| hot office? |
| CURTIS: |
| I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world? |
| GRUMIO: |
| A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and |
| therefore fire. Do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and |
| mistress are almost frozen to death. |
| CURTIS: |
| There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news? |
| GRUMIO: |
| Why, 'Jack boy! ho, boy!' and as much news as thou wilt. |
| CURTIS: |
| Come, you are so full of cony-catching. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold. |
| Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes |
| strewed, cobwebs swept, the serving-men in their new fustian, |
| their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? |
| Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, and carpets |
| laid, and everything in order? |
| CURTIS: |
| All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news? |
| GRUMIO: |
| First, know my horse is tired; my master and mistress fallen 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: |
| [Striking him.] There. |
| CURTIS: |
| This 'tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale. |
| GRUMIO: |
| And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale; and this cuff |
| was but to knock at your car and beseech listening. Now I begin: |
| Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my |
| mistress,— |
| CURTIS: |
| Both of one horse? |
| GRUMIO: |
| What's that to thee? |
| CURTIS: |
| Why, a horse. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me, thou |
| shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse; |
| thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was |
| bemoiled; 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 prayed, that never prayed |
| before; how I cried; how the horses ran away; how her bridle was |
| burst; how I lost my crupper; with many things of worthy memory, |
| which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienced to |
| thy grave. |
| CURTIS: |
| By this reckoning he is more shrew than she. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find |
| when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth |
| Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the |
| rest; let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brush'd |
| and their garters of an indifferent knit; let them curtsy 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! You must meet my master to countenance my |
| mistress. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Why, she hath a face of her own. |
| CURTIS: |
| Who knows not that? |
| GRUMIO: |
| Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her. |
| CURTIS: |
| I call them forth to credit her. |
| GRUMIO: |
| Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. |
| [Enter several SERVANTS.] |
| NATHANIEL: |
| Welcome home, Grumio! |
| PHILIP: |
| How now, Grumio! |
| JOSEPH: |
| 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, my spruce companions, is all |
| ready, and all things neat? |
| NATHANIEL: |
| All things is 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 KATHERINA.] |
| PETRUCHIO: |
| Where be 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 logger-headed 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! |
| Did I not bid thee meet me in the park, |
| 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' the heel; |
| There was no link to colour Peter's hat, |
| And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing; |
| There was 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 some of the SERVANTS.] |
| Where is the life that late I led? |
 Where are those—? Sit down, Kate, and welcome. |
| Soud, soud, soud, soud! |
| [Re-enter SERVANTS with supper.] |
| Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.— |
| Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains! when? |
| It was the friar of orders grey, |
| As he forth walked on his way: |
| Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry: |
| [Strikes him.] |
| Take that, and mend the plucking off the other. |
| Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho! |
| Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence |
| And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither: |
| [Exit SERVANT.] |
| One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with. |
| Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water? |
| Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.— |
| [SERVANT lets the ewer fall. PETRUCHIO strikes him.] |
| You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? |
| KATHERINA: |
| 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. |
| Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?— |
| What's this? Mutton? |
| FIRST SERVANT: |
| Ay. |
| PETRUCHIO: |
| Who brought it? |
| PETER: |
| I. |
| PETRUCHIO: |
| 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat. |
| What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook? |
| How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser, |
| And serve it thus to me that love it not? |
| [Throws the meat, etc., at them.] |
| There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all. |
| You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves! |
| What! do you grumble? I'll be with you straight. |
| KATHERINA: |
| I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet; |
| The meat was well, if you were so contented. |
| PETRUCHIO: |
| I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away, |
| And I expressly am forbid to touch it; |
| For it engenders choler, planteth anger; |
| And better 'twere that both of us did fast, |
| Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, |
| Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. |
| Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended. |
| And for this night we'll fast for company: |
| Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. |
| [Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and CURTIS.] |
| NATHANIEL: |
| Peter, didst ever see the like? |
| PETER: |
| He kills her in her own humour. |
| [Re-enter CURTIS.] |
| GRUMIO: |
| Where is he? |
| CURTIS: |
| In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her; |
| And rails, and swears, and rates, that 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.] |
| [Re-enter PETRUCHIO.] |
| PETRUCHIO: |
| Thus have I politicly begun my reign, |
| And 'tis my hope to end successfully. |
| My falcon now is sharp and passing empty. |
| 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 bate 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 she shall not; |
| As with the meat, some undeserved fault |
| I'll find about the making of the bed; |
| And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster, |
| This way the coverlet, another way the sheets; |
| Ay, and amid this hurly I intend |
| That all is done in reverend 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 headstrong humour. |
| He that knows better how to tame a shrew, |
| Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show. |
| [Exit.] |
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