Tranio!
Tranio!
Master!
Master Lucentio.
Now, in fulfilment of my great desire
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
I am arriv'd in fruitful Lombardy,
The pleasant garden of great Italy.
And by my father's love and leave am arm'd
With his good will and thy good company.
So shall I please my father, Lord Vincentio,
Who sent me hither from our home in Pisa,
On this, the first day of the scholar's year,
To study at the university,
And deck his fortune with my virtuous deeds.
Here let us breathe and haply institute
A course of learning and ingenious studies.
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I'll study
Virtue, and that part of philosophy
Will I apply which treats of happiness
By virtue specially to be achiev'd.
Tell me, Tranio,
Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left
And am to Padua come
As he that leaves
A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
Why then, Lucentio, gentle master mine.
I am in all affected as yourself,
Glad that you thus continue your resolve
To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
Tranio!
But... let us not be so confined by learning
That love becomes an outcast...
quite abjur'd.
No profit grows
where is no pleasure taken. Huh?
Master?
Master?
Lucentio!
Come scholar come scholar
Tell me true
What can I teach you to do do do?
Teach me no scholarship nor no trade
Teach me to tumble thee
My little pretty maid
Lucentio? Lucentio!
Lucentio!
Lucentio!
Lucentio.
Master.
Unveil! Unveil!
Away!
Unveil! Unveil!
Who would his love bestow
On looks he may never know?
Lady unveil unveil unveil
Beauty's a thing to show
To show
O let me tell gentle maiden
Let me tell
If it be true
That thy beauty casts a spell
If true it be
Take pity and give me leave
To do for thee
All that Adam did for Eve
I'll do it well gentle maid
I'll do it well
Bianca!
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
lf I achieve not that young modest girl.
Wha...
Is it possible
That love should of a sudden take such hold?
Bianca!
Haste to the house. Your sister is mad.
Out of my way, fool!
Bianca! Bianca!
- Bianca... Bianca! Bian...
- Signor Baptista...
Gentlemen, importune me no further,
For how I firmly am resolv'd you know,
Not to bestow my younger daughter Bianca
Before I have a husband for the elder.
What?
Before I have a husband for the elder!
If either of you two love Katharina,
Leave shall you have
to court her at your pleasure.
O, hideous pleasure. She's too rough for me.
I pray you, Father, is it your will
To make a whore of me among these mates?
Mates, maid, how mean you that?
No mates for you
Unless you were of milder, gentler mould.
I' faith, sir, you shall have no need to fear.
Such mating is not half way to my heart.
But if it were, doubt not my care should be
To paint your face, and use you like a fool.
And comb your noddle
with a three-legg'd stool.
That wench is stark mad...
or wonderful forward.
But in the other's silence I do see
Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
Let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee none the less... my girl.
You are my most obedient and loving daughter.
Pretty pet!
O, sister, content you in my discontent.
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe.
My books and instruments
shall be my company,
On them to look and practise by myself.
O, Tranio, thou may'st hear a goddess speak.
Go in, Bianca.
O, no! Why, will you lock her up,
Signor Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
- Gentlemen, content ye. I am resolv'd.
- But...
And for I know she taketh most delight
ln music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
Fit to instruct her youth.
If you, Hortensio, or Signor Gremio, you,
Know any such, conduct them hither;
for to schoolmasters I will be very kind.
And so farewell.
- Fiend of hell!
- Schoolmasters...
If you love the maid,
Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her.
Thus it stands:
Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
That till the father rids his hands of her,
Master, your love must lie a maid at home.
Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
But... art thou not advis'd he took some care
To get her cunning schoolmasters
to instruct her?
I have it, Tranio.
By my hand, Master,
Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
Shh!
You will be the schoolmaster,
And undertake the teaching of the maid.
We have not yet been seen in any house,
Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces
For man or master.
Then it follows thus:
Rhou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
And be in Padua here Vincentio's son.
I am content to be Lucentio,
Because so well I love Lucentio.
Keep house, and port, and servants,
as I should;
And introduce me as a schoolmaster,
Fit to instruct Baptista's youngest daughter.
'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so.
Shh.
You...!
Signor Gremio!
A truce to our enmity,
For the time it profits us better to be friends.
This matter toucheth us both.
We may yet again
have access to our fair mistress
And be happy rivals for Bianca's love,
If we labour to effect one thing especially.
- What's that, I pray?
- Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
A husband? A devil.
- I say a husband.
- I say a devil.
Now thinkest thou, Hortensio,
though her father be very rich,
any man is such a fool as to be married to hell?
No!
Rush, Gremio. Though it pass your patience
and mine to endure her loud alarums,
why, man, there be good fellows in the world,
if one could but light on them,
would take her with all her faults,
for the sake of her father's fortune.
I would not do it for a mine of gold.
Help Katharina to a hus...band
and we help Bianca to become a wife.
Thine or mine?
He that runs fastest gets the ring.
How say you, Signor Gremio?
- I am agreed. There must be such a man.
- Yes.
I would give the best horse in Padua
to whoever would thoroughly woo her,
wed her, bed her, and rid the house of her.
There must be such a man.
There must be such a man.
- There must be such a man.
- Out of my path!
- O, Grumio!
- Huh?
Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.
Knock, sir? Whom should I knock?
Aha!
Is there any man has rebused your worship?
Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
Knock you where, sir?
Knock me at my friend Hortensio's gate,
And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.
Ah! My master is grown quarrelsome.
I should knock you first,
And then I know after who comes by the worst.
Sirrah, will you not knock? Or I'll ring it.
- Masters! Help, masters! My master is mad.
- Ring when I tell you.
Masters!
Hortensio. Ah!
Well met, my dearest friend, Hortensio.
Petruchio!
What's the matter?
Rise, Grumio, rise.
If this be not a lawful cause
for me to leave his service, look you, sir.
He bid me knock...
Senseless villain. Signor Hortensio,
I bade this rascal knock upon my gate,
- And could not for my heart get him to do it.
- Knock at the gate? O heavens!
Spake you not the words plain,
''Knock me here...''?
Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
Signor Petruchio, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?
You and your trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
Signor Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
And I have... thrust myself into this maze,
Haply as best I may to... thrive and wive.
To...?
Thrive and wive.
Wive... saidst thou?
Her father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman.
Her name is... Katharina Minola.
There.
Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet I promise thee she shall be rich,
And very rich.
But then, th'art too much my friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.
O' my word, and she knew him as well as I do,
she'd think scolding would do him little good.
Signor Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice;
And therefore, if you know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife -
Since wealth's the burden of my wooing dance -
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xanthippe, or a worse,
She moves me not, or not removes at least
Affection's edge in me,
Were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
Nay, look you, sir,
he tells you flatly what his mind is.
Why, give him gold enough
and marry him to a puppet,
or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head,
and though she have as many diseases
as two and fifty horses.
Why, nothing comes amiss,
so money comes withal.
Crowns have I in my purse, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.
To find a fortune and to woo...
a wife.
And when I came at last to wife
With a heigh-ho
The wind and the rain
By swaggering could I never thrive
For the rain it raineth every day
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her.
With a heigh-ho
The wind and the rain
For the rain it raineth every
By swaggering
By swaggering could I never thrive
For the rain it raineth every day
When that I was a tiny little boy
With a heigh-ho
The wind and the rain
A foolish thing was but a toy
The rain it raineth
Now, Petruchio.
If I do...
If I do plot thy match with Katharina,
There is a favour I would ask of thee:
To help me woo her younger sister, Bianca.
Ask it, and so it be not gold, 'tis grant'd.
Then shall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
And offer me disguis'd in sober robes
To old Baptista as a schoolmaster.
As a schoolmaster.
Well versed in music, to instruct Bianca,
That so I may by this device at least
Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
And unsuspected woo her by myself.
Unrecognised by ancient Gremio!
'Tis Gremio, the rival of my love.
God save you, Signor Gremio.
And you are well met, Signor Hortensio.
Know you where I am going? To Baptista.
I promis'd to enquire most carefully
About a schoolmaster for fair Bianca,
And by good fortune...
Cambio!
..I have lighted well on this young man.
Go on now.
A proper stripling and an amorous.
'Tis well. And I have here another gentleman,
Signor Petruchio of Verona,
Who will undertake to woo the curst Katharine,
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
O sir, such a life with such a wife were strange.
But if you have a stomach to't, a God's name,
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wildcat?
And will I live?
Signor Petruchio.
- I'll mar thee till no man dare look on thee.
- No... No. No!
- No!
- Take that! And that!
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have not I in a pitched battle heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds,
and trumpets' clang?
Let me crack thee!
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
Rush, tush, fear boys with bugs!
Nay, I will swear so loud.
O, no! Sister, no!
O, good sister, wrong me not,
nor wrong yourself,
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me.
Minion!
Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
Whom dost thou lov'st best.
Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
Minion, thou liest.
Katharina! Katharina! Bianca!
Daughters! Daughters!
What, in my sight?
Ah, Bianca, get thee in.
Why dost thou wrong her
that did ne'er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband,
I must dance barefoot on her wedding-day.
Daughter Katharina, I pray you!
Talk not to me, I will go sit and weep,
Till I can find occasion for revenge.
Katharina! Katharina!
Signor Baptista.
Good morrow, good my neighbour.
Neighbour, I promis'd to enquire most carefully
about a schoolmaster for fair Bianca,
Well read in poetry and other books.
And by good fortune, I have lighted well.
Neighbour, I freely give unto you
this young scholar,
that hath long been studying at Rheims
and other universities
where he has acquir'd his learning;
cunning in Latin...
And Greek... and other languages.
- His name is Cambio. Pray accept his service.
- Master!
A thousand thanks, Signor.
Welcome.
May I be so bold
as to ask the cause of your coming?
Ya! Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own,
That, being a stranger in this city here,
Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
- Signor...
- Lucentio is my name.
His name is Litio, born in Mantua.
Lucentio is my name,
And l, this little packet of Greek and Latin...
- Enough!
- Lucentio!
Pray, have you not a daughter
CalI'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?
I have a daughter, sir, calI'd Katharine.
And I, sir, if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her as wife?
Nay, nay! You are too blunt, go to it orderly.
But whence are you?
What may I call your name?
Signor Baptista, my business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and gentle modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house,
To make mine eye the witness
Of that report I have so often heard.
Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son,
A man well known throughout all ltaly.
Now, sir... if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her as wife?
After my death...
the one half of my lands,
And in possession...
twenty thousand crowns.
Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray
Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
And... for that dowry I'll assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
With all my lands and leases whatsoever.
Signor Antonio's son!
- Litio...
- Take you the lute, you the set of books.
You shall go see your pupils.
Within!
Sirrah, lead these gentlemen to my daughters.
Tell her they are her tutors.
Bid her use them well.
- With...
- All my lands and leases whatsoever.
Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.
Ay, when one special thing is well obtain'd,
I mean, her love;
for that is all in all.
Why, that is nothing. For I tell you, Father,
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume
the thing that feeds their fury.
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
So I to her, and so she yields to me,
For I am rough and woo not like a babe.
Vile instrument! Fat-fingered gut plucker!
Twangling Jack!
But be thou arm'd for...
some unhappy words.
Signor Baptista! Master! Master!
How now, my friend,
why dost thou look so pale?
For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
And will my daughter prove a good musician?
She'll sooner prove a soldier.
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench.
O, how I long to have some chat with her.
Come with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter.
Say that she rail, why then I'll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
Say that she frown,
I'll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.
Say she be mute and will not speak a word,
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week.
If she refuse to wed...
refuse to wed,
I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and...
when be married.
Good morrow, Kate.
That's your name, I hear.
Well have you heard,
but something hard of hearing;
They call me Katharine that do talk of me.
You lie, i' faith, for you are calI'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation,
Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Yhy virtues spoken of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as thou dost deserve,
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.
Mov'd?
In good time!
Let him that mov'd you hither
Remove you hence.
I knew you at the first
You were a movable.
Why, what's a movable?
- A stool. Like this!
- Then, sit on me.
Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
Women are made to bear, and so are you.
Not such a load as yours, if me you mean.
Nay, come, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
For, knowing thee to be but young and light -
Too light for such a swain as you to catch.
Father! This man...
Vincentio, my father,
hath no less than three great argosies,
Besides two merchant ships
And twelve light galleys.
Twelve?
- Hic ibat Simois hic est Sigeia tellus
- Nay, leave his lecture.
Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katharine welcom'd you withal?
Wrangling pedant! This is
The patroness of heavenly harmony.
Preposterous ass! You may go walk,
and give me leave awhile.
- Go tune your instrument.
- My instrument's in tune.
Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
Think upon that, sir, and keep your place.
You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
That will be never.
Hic ibat Simois
Good morrow, Kate. Good Kate.
I am a gentleman...
That I'll try.
Come, come, you wasp;
i' faith, you are too angry.
If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
My remedy, then, is to pluck it out.
Ay, if the fool could find where it lies.
Who knows not where a wasp
doth wear his sting? ln his tail.
- In his tongue.
- Whose tongue?
Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
What, with my tongue in your tail?
Oh!
- I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
- If... lf you strike me, you are no gentleman.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your choice...
- You rogue!
- For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well...
- Monstrous villain, go!
- Rhou must be married to no man but me.
Thou must be married to no man but me.
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
To bring you from a wildcat to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Conformable as other household Kates.
No!
Thou canst not frown,
thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk.
But thou with mildness
entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
And will you, nill you, I... will... marry... you.
I'd rather die!
- Katharina!
- My twenty thousand crowns.
Katharina!
Signor Baptista! Signor Baptista! Katharina!
Katharina! Daughter!
Call you me daughter?
Now I promise
You have show'd a tender fatherly regard
To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
Who thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Signor Petruchio,
how speed you with your wooing?
How but well, sir? How but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
In sooth, you scape not so.
I chafe you, if I tarry. Let me go.
'Twas told me you were rough,
and coy, and sullen,
And now I find report a very liar;
For thou art pleasant, gamesome,
passing courteous,
And slow in speech,
but sweet as spring-time flowers.
Where did you study all this goodly speech?
It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
A witty mother, with a witless son.
Am I not wise?
Enough to keep you warm.
Marry, so I mean to warm me in thy bed.
And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world!
Kate like the hazel-tree is straight and slender,
and brown in hue as hazel-nuts
and sweeter than the kernels.
- Signor Baptista...
- Gentlemen, content you,
I will compound this strife.
'Tis deeds must win the prize,
And he among you
Who can assure my daughter greatest wealth
Shall have Bianca's love.
Shh.
Here comes your father. Never make denial;
I must and will have Katharine for my wife.
Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter.
I...
I must confess your offer is the best.
Albeit his father sign the covenant.
Albeit he hath a father so to sign.
And if your father make her the assurance,
She is your own.
Signor Petruchio.
Father.
'Tis thus: yourself and all the world
That talk'd of her have talk'd amiss of her.
She is not proud, but modest as the dove.
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn.
And to conclude,
we have 'greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
'Twas bargain'd 'twixt us, when we were alone,
That she shall still seem curst in company.
Of all things living, a man's the worst.
I tell you 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me.
I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
O, my sweet Katharina. O, the kindest Kate!
She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices. 'Ris a world to see,
When she and I are both alone,
How tame a milksop wretch
can make the cursest shrew.
Of all things living, a man's the worst.
Petruchio!
Father and friends... Father and friends, adieu.
I will to Venice
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
We will have rings, and things, and fine array,
And... kiss me, Kate,
we will be married o' Sunday.
Ring-a-ding ring-a-ding
Hark to the steeple ringing
Ring-a-ding ring-a-ding
Ding-dong bell
Signor Baptista!
Katharina?
Daughter?
Child!
Katharina!
Katharina!
Please!
Child!
Daughter!
Petruchio is coming.
What will be said?
What mockery will it be to lack the bridegroom
When the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
No shame but mine.
Now must the world point at poor Katharina,
And say...
Mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.
Petruchio is coming! Petruchio is coming!
Petruchio is coming! Petruchio is coming!
In an old hat and an old jerkin;
a pair of old breeches thrice turned;
with an old mothy saddle
and stirrups of different families.
How does my father?
Good morrow, gentles.
Gentles, methinks you frown.
And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unusual prodigy?
Fie, doff this habit, shame on your estate,
An eyesore to our solemn festival!
What, will you be married to my daughter thus?
Good sooth, even thus.
Therefore ha' done with words;
To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
But what a fool I am to chat with you,
When I should bid good morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a lovely kiss.
Nay, by God's wounds.
Petruchio.
Petruchio!
Petruchio,
Wilt thou take Katharina
To be thy lawful wedded wife?
I...
Petruchio,
Wilt thou take Katharina
To be thy lawful wedded wife?
The ring.
The ring.
The ring...
The ring...
Petruchio, wilt thou take Katharina
To be thy lawful wedded wife?
Marry I will!
Katharina...
Katharina,
Wilt thou take Petruchio
To be thy lawful wedded husband?
I will n...
No!
Father...
Fall to, good people.
Eat and drink your fill.
Please.
Gentlemen and friends,
I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me today,
And have prepar'd
great store of wedding cheer,
But so it is, business doth call me hence,
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
Is't possible you will away tonight?
I must away today before night comes.
Make it no wonder. lf you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go than stay.
And honest company, I thank you all
That have beheld me give myself away
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.
- Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
- It may not be.
- Let me entreat you.
- It cannot be.
Let me entreat you.
I am content.
Are you content to stay?
I am content you should entreat me stay;
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
- Grumio, my horses.
- Ay, sir, they be ready.
Nay then,
Do what thou canst, I will not go today,
No, nor tomorrow, till I please myself.
The door is open, sir, there lies the way,
You may be jogging till your boots are green.
For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
- Daughter, content ye, prithee be not angry.
- I will be angry; what hast thou to do?
Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
I see a woman may be made a fool
If she had not the spirit to resist.
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 any thing,
And here she stands.
Touch her whoever dares!
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'est a man.
Fear not, sweet wench,
they shall not touch thee, Kate.
I'll buckler thee against a million.
Father! Father!
- Petruchio...
- Father!
O, go hang yourselves!
You foul, loathsome swine.
A pox on thee.
Come up. Hup! Hup! Hup!
Had they not gone quickly,
I should have died with laughing.
Of all mad matches never was the like.
- Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
- That being mad herself, she's madly mated.
I warrant you, Petruchio is Kated.
Come, Kate. Come, Kate.
Forward, Kate, forward.
- You fool!
- Follow me, Kate, if thou be not too feeble.
Come, Kate.
..wed to one half lunatic,
A madcap ruffian...
Hey, master!
- Hup, there.
- A pox on thee!
Master!
Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Gregory? Philip?
Nathaniel? Curtis?
Gold.
More. More.
Where is the life where is the life
That late I led?
Where is the life that late I led?
It's gone it's gone
It's gone it's gone it's gone
It's gone
Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? No regard? No duty?
You peasant swain!
You whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Did not I bid thee ride ahead posthaste,
And have all things made proper
for thy mistress?
Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not ready made,
And Gregory's pumps
were all unpink'd i' th' heel;
And Philip's dagger was not fully sheath'd.
Yet, as they are,
here are they come to serve you.
Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
Go, rascals, go.
Go!
Food!
Food!
Give me a chicken!
Food!
Food!
Food, food, food!
Food!
Where be these knaves?
All things is ready.
Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Be merry, Kate.
Some water here. What ho! Water.
Water!
Shall I have some water?
- Water.
- Water.
Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.
A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
Come, Kate, sit down,
I know you have a stomach.
Shall you give thanks, good Kate,
or else shall I?
- Amen.
- Amen.
Amen.
Amen.
- Amen.
- Amen!
What's this? Chicken?
Ay.
- Who brought it?
- I.
I? I?
'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
How durst thou, villains,
bring it from the dresser
And serve it thus to me who loves it not?
Here, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.
I pray you, husband,
be not so disquiet.
The meat was well,
if you had... been so... contented.
I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expressly am forbid to touch it,
For it engenders anger, planteth choler;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast
Than feed it with such over-roasted... flesh.
Be patient, tomorrow it shall be mended,
And for this night we'll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
Grumio!
Where is the life that late he led?
It's gone it's gone
It's gone it's gone it's gone away
No!
Fools! In what fashion have you made her bed?
With here a pillow flung and there a bolster,
This way the coverlet, and that the sheets.
How, in this hurly-burly, may a groom
Renderly woo and win his loving bride?
Gregory! Curtis! Philip! Nathaniel! Grumio!
I spit on you, that you should treat her thus.
This is the way to kill a wife with kindness.
Lower.
Lower.
Lower.
Good morrow, Kate.
What, sweeting, all forlorn?
How fares my Kate?
III.
'Tis passing fair.
Nay, nay.
Master. Master!
Master, I have watch'd so long
That I am dog-weary,
But at last I spied
A man most suitable to play your father.
An ancient angel coming down the hill.
Whom Tranio doth follow and approach.
- God save you, sir.
- And you, sir. You are welcome.
- What countryman, I pray?
- Of Mantua, sir.
Mantua?
From Mantua? Marry, God forbid!
And come to Padua, careless of your life?
My life, sir? How, I pray? For that goes hard.
'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua.
Nay, know you not the cause?
Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the Duke,
For private quarrel 'twixt your Duke and him,
Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly.
Alas, sir, what would you advise me do?
This will I do, and this I will advise you do:
To save your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for your sake,
And think it not the worst of all your fortunes
That you are like to Lord Vincentio.
Your plainness and your shortness
please me well.
Right true it is your son Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him.
Now therefore if you give me this assurance
That like a father you will deal with him,
And pass my daughter a sufficient dowry,
And covenants be signed,
At thy son's lodging -
for walls have ears and I have many servants -
Why, then, he has consent to wed Bianca.
Signor Baptista.
The match is made, the ceremony appointed
For Sunday next; and I will give a feast
Which, with the citizens of Padua here,
Petruchio and Katharine shall attend.
Mistress... what cheer?
Faith, as cold as can be.
Pluck up your spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Your father bids us to Bianca's wedding,
And thither must we journey, bravely clad.
Tailor and haberdasher wait thy leisure
To deck thy body with their ruffling treasure.
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments.
What's the news with you... sir?
- Here is...
- Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
- Why, this was moulded on a porringer!
- O, I like the cap.
A velvet dish! Fie, fie! 'Ris lewd.
- Lewd?
- Lewd?
And filthy.
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it! Come, let me see a bigger.
I'll have no bigger. This doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
When you are gentler, you shall have one too,
And not before.
Why, sir,
I trust I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will.
I am no child, no babe.
Your betters have endur'd me speak my mind,
And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart concealing it will break.
I love thee well in that thou lik'st it not.
Love me or love me not, I like the cap,
And it I will have, or I will have none.
The gown. Come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God! What mummer's stuff is here?
What's this? A sleeve? 'Ris like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down, carv'd like an apple tart?
Why, what the devil's name, tailor,
call'st thou this?
You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
O monstrous arrogance!
Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble,
Thou yard, three-quarters, thou liest.
Thou half-yard, quarter, inch,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
Or I shall so bemete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st.
Well, come, my Kate,
we must unto your father's
Even in these honest mean habiliments.
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor,
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich,
And as the sun
breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
What, is the jay more precious than the lark
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.
If thou account'st it shame, blame it on me.
Grumio!
Say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
And therefore... frolic.
And now, my honey love,
We will return unto your father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps, and golden rings,
And ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things,
With amber bracelets, beads,
and scarfs and fans.
- When shall we leave?
- Why, now.
- What is't o'clock?
- 'Tis day.
- 'Tis night.
- 'Tis seven.
'Tis two at most.
It shall be seven or I will not ride.
Look what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing of it.
Nay...
Let it alone, I will not go today, or ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
'Tis seven.
Come on, a God's name,
once more unto your father's.
Good Lord,
how bright and goodly shines the moon!
I say it is the moon.
I know it is the moon.
Why, then you lie. It is the blessed sun.
Then, God be blest, it is the blessed sun.
But sun it is not, when you say it is not,
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
And so it shall be so for Katharine.
Forward, forward.
But soft, what company is coming here?
Good morrow, gentle mistress, where away?
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty
As those two eyes become that...
heavenly face?
Fair... lovely maid,
once more good day to thee.
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
Young budding virgin,
fair, and fresh, and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of so fair a child,
Happier the man whom favourable stars
Will allot for his lovely bedfellow.
Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad.
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
O pardon, old father, for my mistaking eyes,
That have been so bedazzled by the... sun
That everything I see is green and young.
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father.
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
Pardon her, grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travellest:
If along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.
Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter
much amaz'd me,
My name is calI'd Vincentio,
my dwelling Pisa.
Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
A son of mine, who long I have not seen.
He studies at the university -
His name is called Lucentio!
- Master.
- Biondello...
Shh.
Softly and swiftly, sir,
For even now the priest is marrying Hortensio
To the lusty widow of his choice,
And, once the church is emptied, hath agreed
To marry you in secret to your mistress.
We fly, Biondello.
Tell me, kind sir,
is this the house of one Lucentio?
Ay, but they are busy within
arguing over dowries.
You'd best knock louder.
Who's he that knocks
as he would beat down the door?
Is Signor Lucentio within, sir?
He's within, sir, but not to be spoken to withal.
I pray you tell Signor Lucentio that his father
is here at the door to speak with him.
Thou liest.
His father is here looking out at the window.
- Thou? His father?
- Ay, sir, so his mother says,
if I may believe her.
Why, how now, old gentleman!
This is flat knavery,
to take upon yourself another man's name.
Lay hands on the villain.
I believe he means to cheat somebody
in this city under my countenance.
Biondello. Biondello!
Help!
Come hither, crack-hemp.
My master's father, Lord Vincentio.
Come hither, you rogue.
What, have you forgot me?
Forgot you, sir? No, sir. No, sir.
I could not forget you, sir, for...
I never saw you before in all my life.
What, you notorious villain,
didst thou never see thy master's father?
Help! Son!
Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
What am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir?
O immortal gods! O fine villain!
What, a silken doublet, a velvet hose,
a scarlet cloak, and a sugar-loaf hat!
O... O, I am undone. O...
O, I am undone.
I am undone! My son and my servant
spend all at the university.
What, is the man lunatic?
Why, sir, what concerns it you
if I wear pearl and... and... and gold?
I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
Thy father?
His father's a sail-maker in Bergamo.
You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir.
Pray, what do you think is his name?
His name? As if I knew not his name!
I've brought him up ever since he was
three years old, and his name is Tranio.
Tranio?
Away, away, mad ass!
His name is Lucentio, and he is mine only son,
and heir to the lands of me.
Lucent...
Villain. O villain!
Villain! Villain!
My servant hath murdered my son!
Lay hold on him, I charge you,
in the Duke's name.
O, my son, my son!
Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
Call forth an officer.
Deny him, forswear him, sir,
or else we are all undone.
How dare you lay hands on me!
You will see, I shall protest the Duke.
He will punish home this cave of cozenage.
Pardon, sweet father.
Lives my sweet son.
Pardon, sweet father.
Husband, let's into my father's house.
First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
What, in the midst of the street?
What, art ashamed of me?
No, sir, God forbid;
but... ashamed to kiss.
- Why, then, let's home again.
- Nay, I will give thee a kiss.
Now pray thee, love, stay.
Grumio, my wine.
Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
For both our sakes I would that word were true.
I' faith, Hortensio feels the fear of his widow.
- I am not afeard.
- I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husband's trouble by his own.
And now you know my meaning.
- A very mean meaning.
- Right, I mean you.
- To her, Kate!
- To her, widow!
- A hundred crowns, my Kate will lay her flat.
- That's my office.
By your leave, my lords,
the ladies would withdraw.
Bianca.
Marry, Petruchio, I begin to wonder
If thou hast wed the veriest shrew of all.
I say no. And therefore for assurance
Let's each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most obedient,
To come the moment he doth send for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
Content.
- What was the wager?
- Two hundred crowns.
Two hundred crowns?
I'll venture so much on my hawk and hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.
So be it, then. Four thousand crowns.
Content?
Content.
- Who shall begin?
- That will I. Biondello?
Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
I will share half your stake Bianca comes.
I'll have no halves. I'll bear it all myself.
How now, what news?
Sir, my mistress sends you word
That she is busy and she cannot come.
How? She is busy, and she cannot come?
Is that an answer?
Ay, and a kind one too.
- Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
- I hope for better.
Sirrah.
Sirrah.
Biondello, go and entreat my wife
To come to me... forthwith.
O ho, entreat her!
Nay, then she needs must come.
I am afraid, sir,
Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
- Where is my wife?
- She will not come.
She bids you come to her.
Worse and worse, she will not come! O vile,
Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Grumio, go to thy mistress,
Say I command her to come to me.
- I know her answer.
- What?
She will not come.
See where she comes.
- O, come, come, you're mocking.
- Nay, nay, I will not.
Fie, fie!
Unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign;
one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou liest warm at home,
secure and safe;
He craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks,
and true obedience;
Too little payment... for so great a debt.
Such duty the subject owes the prince
Even such a woman oweth to her husband.
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war when they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why...
are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, you froward and unable worms.
Come.
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown.
But now I see our lances are but straws.
Come, place your hands
below your husband's foot.
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready,
may it do him ease.
Why, there's a wench!
Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
I won the battle, you have yet to fight,
And being a winner, God give you... goodnight!