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PETRUCHIO'S country house.

Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad
masters, and all foul ways! Was ever man so
beaten? was ever man so raved? 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.

Who is that calls so coldly?

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.

Is my master and his wife coming,

O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, (21)
fire; cast on no water.

Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?

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

Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.

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?

I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how
goes the world?

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.

There's fire ready; and therefore,
good Grumio, the news.

Why, 'Jack, boy! ho! boy!' and as
much news as will thaw.

Come, you are so full of cony-catching!

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 fusttian, their white stockings, and
every officer his wedding-garment on? Be the
jacks fair within, the jills fair without, the carpets
laid, and every thing in order?

All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.

First, know, my horse is tired; my
master and mistress fallen out.


Out of their saddles into the dirt; (60)

and thereby hangs a tale.

Let's ha't, good Grumio.

Lend thine ear.


There. Strikes him.

This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.

And therefore 'tis called a sensible
tale: and this cuff was but to knock at your
ear, and beseech listening. Now I begin: Imprimis,
we came down a foul hill, my master
riding behind my mistress,--

Both of one horse?

What's that to thee?

Why, a horse.

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 unexpe rienced to
thy grave.

By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.

Ay; and that thou and the proudest
of you all shall find when he comes home. But
what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniiel, Joseph,
Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Suga sop and
the rest: let their heads be sleekly combed,
their blue coats brushed 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?

They are.

Call them forth.

Do you hear, ho? you must meet my (101)
master to countenance my mistress.

Why, she hath a face of her own.

Who knows not that?

Thou, it seems, that calls for company
to countenance her.

I call them forth to credit her.

Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. Enter four or five Serving-men.

Welcome home, Grumio! (110)

How now, Grumio!

What, Grumio!

Fellow Grumio!

How now, old lad?

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? (119)

All things is ready. How near is our master?

E'en at hand, alighted by this; and
therefore be not--Cock's passion, silence! I
hear my master. Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA.

Where be these knaves? What, no man at door

To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!

Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

All Serv.
Here, here, sir; here, sir.

Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!

You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!

What, no attendance? no regard? no duty? (130)

Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

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?

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 were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory; (140)

The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;

Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.

Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in. Exeunt 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? Sings

It was the friar of orders grey,

As he forth walked on his way:-- (150)

Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:

Take that, and mend the plucking off the other. Strikes him.

Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!

Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,

And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:

One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acqainted with.

Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water? Enter one with water.

Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.

You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? Strikes him.

Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling. (160)

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 Serv.

Who brought it?


'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?

There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all: Throws the meat, &c. about the stage.

You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves! (170)

What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:

The meat was well, if you were so contented.

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 fed it with such over-roasted flesh. (179)

Be patient; tomorrow 't shall be mended,

And, for this night, we'll fast for company.

Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt.
Re-enter Servants severally.

Peter, didst ever see the like?

He kills her in her own humour, Re-enter CURTIS.

Where is he?

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. (200)

Away, away! for he is coming hither. Exeunt.

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-gorged,

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 (220)

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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