Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Erin Kelly
Not Peer Reviewed

The Taming of the Shrew (Folio 1, 1623)


216
The Taming of the Shrew.
Bap. How now my friend, why dost thou looke so
pale?
1010Hor. For feare I promise you, if I looke pale.
Bap. What, will my daughter proue a good Musiti-
an?
Hor. I thinke she'l sooner proue a souldier,
Iron may hold with her, but neuer Lutes.
1015Bap. Why then thou canst not break her to the Lute?
Hor. Why no, for she hath broke the Lute to me:
I did but tell her she mistooke her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When (with a most impatient diuellish spirit)
1020Frets call you these? (quoth she) Ile fume with them:
And with that word she stroke me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way,
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a Pillorie, looking through the Lute,
1025While she did call me Rascall, Fidler,
And twangling Iacke, with twentie such vilde tearmes,
As had she studied to misvse me so.
Pet. Now by the world, it is a lustie Wench,
I loue her ten times more then ere I did,
1030Oh how I long to haue some chat with her.
Bap. Wel go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practise with my yonger daughter,
She's apt to learne, and thankefull for good turnes:
Signior Petruchio, will you go with vs,
1035Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you.
Exit. Manet Petruchio.
Pet. I pray you do. Ile attend her heere,
And woo her with some spirit when she comes,
Say that she raile, why then Ile tell her plaine,
1040She sings as sweetly as a Nightinghale:
Say that she frowne, Ile say she lookes as cleere
As morning Roses newly washt with dew:
Say she be mute, and will not speake a word,
Then Ile commend her volubility,
1045And say she vttereth piercing eloquence:
If she do bid me packe, Ile giue her thankes,
As though she bid me stay by her a weeke:
If she denie to wed, Ile craue the day
When I shall aske the banes, and when be married.
1050But heere she comes, and now Petruchio speake.
Enter Katerina.
Good morrow Kate, for thats your name I heare.
Kate. Well haue you heard, but something hard of
hearing:
1055They call me Katerine, that do talke of me.
Pet. You lye infaith, for you are call'd plaine Kate,
And bony Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst:
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendome,
Kate of Kate-hall, my super-daintie Kate,
1060For dainties are all Kates, and therefore Kate
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation,
Hearing thy mildnesse prais'd in euery Towne,
Thy vertues spoke of, and thy beautie sounded,
Yet not so deepely as to thee belongs,
1065My selfe am moou'd to woo thee for my wife.
Kate. Mou'd, in good time, let him that mou'd you
hether
Remoue you hence: I knew you at the first
You were a mouable.
1070Pet. Why, what's a mouable?
Kat. A ioyn'd stoole.
Pet. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me.
Kate. Asses are made to beare, and so are you.
Pet. Women are made to beare, and so are you.
1075Kate. No such Iade as you, if me you meane.
Pet. Alas good Kate, I will not burthen thee,
For knowing thee to be but yong and light.
Kate. Too light for such a swaine as you to catch,
And yet as heauie as my waight should be.
1080Pet. Shold be, should: buzze.
Kate. Well tane, and like a buzzard.
Pet.Oh slow-wing'd Turtle, shal a buzard take thee?
Kat. I for a Turtle, as he takes a buzard.
Pet. Come, come you Waspe, y'faith you are too
1085angrie.
Kate. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Pet. My remedy is then to plucke it out.
Kate. I, if the foole could finde it where it lies.
Pet. Who knowes not where a Waspe does weare
1090his sting? In his taile.
Kate. In his tongue?
Pet. Whose tongue.
Kate. Yours if you talke of tales, and so farewell.
Pet. What with my tongue in your taile.
1095Nay, come againe, good Kate, I am a Gentleman,
Kate. That Ile trie.
she strikes him
Pet. I sweare Ile cuffe you, if you strike againe.
Kate. So may you loose your armes,
If you strike me, you are no Gentleman,
1100And if no Gentleman, why then no armes.
Pet. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy bookes.
Kate. What is your Crest, a Coxcombe?
Pet. A comblesse Cocke, so Kate will be my Hen.
Kate. No Cocke of mine, you crow too like a crauen
1105Pet. Nay come Kate, come: you must not looke so
sowre.
Kate. It is my fashion when I see a Crab.
Pet. Why heere's no crab, and therefore looke not
sowre.
1110Kate. There is, there is.
Pet. Then shew it me.
Kate. Had I a glasse, I would.
Pet. What, you meane my face.
Kate. Well aym'd of such a yong one.
1115Pet. Now by S. George I am too yong for you.
Kate. Yet you are wither'd.
Pet. 'Tis with cares.
Kate. I care not.
Pet. Nay heare you Kate. Insooth you scape not so.
1120Kate. I chafe you if I tarrie. Let me go.
Pet. No, not a whit, I finde you passing gentle:
'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
And now I finde report a very liar:
For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
1125But slow in speech: yet sweet as spring-time flowers.
Thou canst not frowne, thou canst not looke a sconce,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor hast thou pleasure to be crosse in talke:
But thou with mildnesse entertain'st thy wooers,
1130With gentle conference, soft, and affable.
Why does the world report that Kate doth limpe?
Oh sland'rous world: Kate like the hazle twig
Is straight, and slender, and as browne in hue
As hazle nuts, and sweeter then the kernels:
1135Oh let me see thee walke: thou dost not halt.
Kate. Go foole, and whom thou keep'st command.
Pet. Did euer Dian so become a Groue
As Kate this chamber with her princely gate:
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And