The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 462
For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me.
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
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And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO and TRANIO.
Here comes your father. Never make denial;
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
BAPTISTA
Now, Signor Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
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PETRUCHIO How but well, sir? How but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
BAPTISTA
Why, how now, daughter Katherine? In your dumps?
KATHERINA Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
You have show’d a tender fatherly regard
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To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
PETRUCHIO Father, ’tis thus: yourself and all the world
That talk’d of her have talk’d amiss of her.
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If she be curst it is for policy,
For she’s not froward, but modest as the dove.
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn.
For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
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And to conclude, we have ‘greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
KATHERINA I’ll see thee hang’d on Sunday first.
GREMIO
Hark, Petruchio, she says she’ll see thee hang’d first.
TRANIO
Is this your speeding? Nay then, good night our part.
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PETRUCHIO
Be patient, gentlemen, I choose her for myself.
If she and I be pleas’d, what’s that to you?
’Tis bargain’d ’twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curst in company.
I tell you ’tis incredible to believe
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How much she loves me. 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. ’Tis a world to see
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How tame, when men and women are alone,
A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel ‘gainst the wedding-day.
Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests.
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I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine.
BAPTISTA
I know not what to say, but give me your hands.
God send you joy, Petruchio, ’tis a match.
GREMIO, TRANIO Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
PETRUCHIO Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu,
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I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace.
We will have rings, and things, and fine array,
And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o’ Sunday.
Exeunt Petruchio and Katherina.
GREMIO Was ever match clapp’d up so suddenly?
BAPTISTA
Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,
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And venture madly on a desperate mart.
TRANIO ’Twas a commodity lay fretting by you,
’Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
BAPTISTA The gain I seek is quiet in the match.
GREMIO No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
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But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter;
Now is the day we long have looked for.
I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
TRANIO And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess.
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GREMIO Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
TRANIO Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.
GREMIO But thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back, ’tis age that nourisheth.
TRANIO But youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
BAPTISTA
Content you, gentlemen, I will compound this strife.
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’Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
That can assure my daughter greatest dower
Shall have my Bianca’s love.
Say, Signor Gremio, what can you assure her?
GREMIO First, as you know, my house within the city
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Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands,
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry.
In ivory coffers I have stuff ‘d my crowns,
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
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Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss’d with pearl,
Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm
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I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am struck in years, I must confess,
And if I die tomorrow this is hers,
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If whilst I live she will be only mine.
TRANIO That ‘only’ came well in. Sir, list to me:
I am my father’s heir and only son.
If I may have your daughter to my wife,
I’ll leave her houses three or four as good,
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Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
Old Signor Gremio has in Padua,
Besides two thousand ducats by the year
Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
What, have I pinch’d you, Signor Gremio?
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GREMIO Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
[aside] My land amounts not to so much in all. –
That she shall have, besides an argosy
That now is lying in Marseilles road.
What, have I chok’d you with an argosy?
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TRANIO Gremio, ’tis known my father hath no less
Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses
And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
And twice as much whate’er thou off ‘rest next.
GREMIO Nay, I have offer’d all, I have no more,
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And she can have no more than all I have.
If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
TRANIO Why, then the maid is mine from all the world
By your firm promise. Gremio is outvied.
BAPTISTA I must confess your offer is the best,
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And let your father make her the assurance,
She is your own; else, you must pardon me,
If you should die before him, where’s her dower?
TRANIO That’s but a cavil. He is old, I young.
GREMIO And may not young men die as well as old?
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BAPTISTA Well, gentlemen,
I am thus resolv’d: on Sunday next you know
My daughter Katherine is to be married;
Now, on the Sunday following shall Bianca
Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
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If not, to Signor Gremio.
And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIO Adieu, good neighbour. Exit Ba
ptista.
Now, I fear thee not.
Sirrah, young gamester, your father were a fool
To give thee all, and in his waning age
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Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy!
An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. Exit.
TRANIO A vengeance on your crafty wither’d hide!
Yet I have fac’d it with a card of ten.
’Tis in my head to do my master good.
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I see no reason but suppos’d Lucentio
Must get a father, call’d suppos’d Vincentio.
And that’s a wonder. Fathers commonly
Do get their children; but in this case of wooing
A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
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Exit.
3.1 Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO and BIANCA.
LUCENTIO Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir.
Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
Her sister Katherine welcom’d you withal?
HORTENSIO But, wrangling pedant, this is
The patroness of heavenly harmony.
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Then give me leave to have prerogative,
And when in music we have spent an hour,
Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
LUCENTIO Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordain’d!
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Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his studies or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,
And while I pause serve in your harmony.
HORTENSIO
Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
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BIANCA Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong
To strive for that which resteth in my choice.
I am no breeching scholar in the schools,
I’ll not be tied to hours nor ‘pointed times,
But learn my lessons as I please myself.
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And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down.
Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
His lecture will be done ere you have tun’d.
HORTENSIO You’ll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
LUCENTIO That will be never. Tune your instrument.
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BIANCA Where left we last?
LUCENTIO Here, madam:
Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus,
Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.
BIANCA Construe them.
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LUCENTIO Hic ibat, as I told you before – Simois, I am
LUCENTIO – hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa – Sigeia
tellus, disguised thus to get your love – Hic steterat,
and that Lucentio that comes a-wooing – Priami, is my
man Tranio – regia, bearing my port – celsa senis, that
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we might beguile the old pantaloon.
HORTENSIO Madam, my instrument’s in tune.
BIANCA Let’s hear. O fie! The treble jars.
LUCENTIO Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
BIANCA Now let me see if I can construe it: Hic ibat
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Simois, I know you not – hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust you
not – Hic steterat Priami, take heed he hear us not –
regia, presume not – celsa senis, despair not.
HORTENSIO Madam, ’tis now in tune.
LUCENTIO All but the bass.
HORTENSIO
The bass is right, ’tis the base knave that jars.
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[aside] How fiery and forward our pedant is.
Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
Pedascule, I’ll watch you better yet.
BIANCA In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
LUCENTIO Mistrust it not – for, sure, Aeacides
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Was Ajax, call’d so from his grandfather.
BIANCA I must believe my master, else, I promise you,
I should be arguing still upon that doubt.
But let it rest. Now, Litio, to you.
Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
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That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
HORTENSIO [to Lucentio]
You may go walk, and give me leave a while.
My lessons make no music in three parts.
LUCENTIO Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait –
[aside] And watch, withal, for, but I be deceiv’d,
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Our fine musician groweth amorous.
HORTENSIO Madam, before you touch the instrument
To learn the order of my fingering,
I must begin with rudiments of art,
To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
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More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,