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Enter a SERVANT
SERVANT. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books And help to dress your sister's chamber up.
You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.
BIANCA. Farewell, sweet masters, both; I must be gone.
Exeunt BIANCA and SERVANT LUCENTIO. Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
Exit HORTENSIO. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks he looks as though he were in love.
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale- Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging, HORTENSIO will be quit with thee by changing. Exit
SCENE II.
Padua. Before BAPTISTA'So house
Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO as LUCENTIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, and ATTENDANTS
BAPTISTA. [To TRANIO] 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?
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!'
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 pa.s.sing wise; Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
KATHERINA. Would Katherine had never seen him though!
Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others 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.
Enter BIONDELLO
Master, master! News, and such old news as you never heard of!
BAPTISTA. Is it new and old too? How may that be?
BIONDELLO. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?
BAPTISTA. Is he come?
BIONDELLO. Why, no, sir.
BAPTISTA. What then?
BIONDELLO. He is coming.
BAPTISTA. When will he be here?
BIONDELLO. When he stands where I am and sees you there.
TRANIO. But, say, what to thine old news?
BIONDELLO. Why, Petruchio is coming- in a new hat and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armoury, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points; his horse hipp'd, with an old motley saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides, possess'd with the glanders and like to mose in the chine, troubled with the lampa.s.s, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoil'd with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, sway'd in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with a half-cheek'd 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 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 lackey, for all the world caparison'd like the horse- with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gart'red with a red and blue list; an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies p.r.i.c.k'd in't for a feather; a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
TRANIO. 'Tis some odd humour p.r.i.c.ks him to this fashion; Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd.
BAPTISTA. I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
BIONDELLO. Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA. Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO. Who? that Petruchio came?
BAPTISTA. Ay, that Petruchio came.
BIONDELLO. No, sir; I say his horse comes with him on his back.
BAPTISTA. Why, that's all one.
BIONDELLO. Nay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man Is more than one, And yet not many.
Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO
PETRUCHIO. Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home?
BAPTISTA. You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCHIO. And yet I come not well.
BAPTISTA. And yet you halt not.
TRANIO. Not so well apparell'd As I wish you were.
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?
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!
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?
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.
TRANIO. See not your bride in these unreverent robes; Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCHIO. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
BAPTISTA. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
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 t.i.tle with a lovely kiss!
Exeunt PETRUCHIO and PETRUCHIO 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.
BAPTISTA. I'll after him and see the event of this.
Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, BIONDELLO, and ATTENDENTS TRANIO. But to her love concerneth us to ad Her father's liking; which to bring to pa.s.s, 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 a.s.surance here in Padua Of greater sums than I have promised.
So shall you quietly enjoy your hope And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
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.
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.
Re-enter GREMIO
Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIO. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
TRANIO. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIO. A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed, A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIO. Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible.
GREMIO. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIO. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
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, 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.'
TRANIO. What said the wench, when he rose again?
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 s.e.xton'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.