Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: The Taming of the Shrew (Folio, 1623)
  • Editor: Erin Kelly
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-468-4

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Erin Kelly
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Taming of the Shrew (Folio, 1623)

    Actus Tertia.
    1295Enter Lucentio, Hortentio, and Bianca.
    Luc. Fidler forbeare, you grow too forward Sir,
    Haue you so soone forgot the entertainment
    Her sister Katherine welcom'd you withall.
    Hort. But wrangling pedant, this is
    1300The patronesse of heauenly harmony:
    Then giue me leaue to haue prerogatiue,
    And when in Musicke we haue spent an houre,
    Your Lecture shall haue leisure for as much.
    Luc. Preposterous Asse that neuer read so farre,
    1305To know the cause why musicke was ordain'd:
    Was it not to refresh the minde of man
    After his studies, or his vsuall paine?
    Then giue me leaue to read Philosophy,
    And while I pause, serue in your harmony.
    1310Hort. Sirra, I will not beare these braues of thine.
    Bianc. Why gentlemen, you doe me double wrong,
    To striue for that which resteth in my choice:
    Iam no breeching scholler in the schooles,
    Ile not be tied to howres, nor pointed times,
    1315But learne my Lessons as I please my selfe,
    And to cut off all strife: heere sit we downe,
    Take you your instrument, play you the whiles,
    His Lecture will be done ere you haue tun'd.
    Hort. You'll leaue his Lecture when I am in tune?
    1320Luc. That will be neuer, tune your instrument.
    Bian. Where left we last?
    Luc. Heere Madam: Hic Ibat Simois, hic est sigeria
    tellus, hic steterat Priami regia Celsa senis.
    Bian. Conster them.
    1325Luc. Hic Ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am Lu-
    centio, hic est, sonne vnto Vincentio of Pisa, Sigeria tel-
    lus, disguised thus to get your loue, hic steterat, and that
    Lucentio that comes a wooing, priami, is my man Tra-
    nio, regia, bearing my port, celsa senis that we might be-
    1330guile the old Pantalowne.
    Hort. Madam, my Instrument's in tune.
    Bian. Let's heare, oh fie, the treble iarres.
    Luc. Spit in the hole man, and tune againe.
    Bian. Now let mee see if I can conster it. Hic ibat si-
    1335mois, I know you not, hic est sigeria tellus, I trust you not,
    hic staterat priami, take heede he heare vs not, regia pre-
    sume not, Celsa senis, despaire not.
    Hort. Madam, tis now in tune.
    Luc. All but the base.
    1340Hort. The base is right, 'tis the base knaue that iars.
    Luc. How fiery and forward our Pedant is,
    Now for my life the knaue doth court my loue,
    Pedascule, Ile watch you better yet:
    In time I may beleeue, yet I mistrust.
    1345Bian. Mistrust it not, for sure AEacides
    Was Aiax cald so from his grandfather.
    Hort. I must beleeue my master, else I promise you,
    I should be arguing still vpon that doubt,
    But let it rest, now Litio to you:
    1350Good master take it not vnkindly pray
    That I haue beene thus pleasant with you both.
    Hort. You may go walk, and giue me leaue a while,
    My Lessons make no musicke in three parts.
    Luc. Are you so formall sir, well I must waite
    1355And watch withall, for but I be deceiu'd,
    Our fine Musitian groweth amorous.
    Hor. Madam, before you touch the instrument,
    To learne the order of my fingering,
    I must begin with rudiments of Art,
    1360To teach you gamoth in a briefer sort,
    More pleasant, pithy, and effectuall,
    Then hath beene taught by any of my trade,
    And there it is in writing fairely drawne.
    Bian. Why, I am past my gamouth long agoe.
    1365Hor. Yet read the gamouth of Hortentio.
    Bian. Gamouth I am, the ground of all accord:
    Are, to plead Hortensio's passion:
    Beeme, Bianca take him for thy Lord
    Cfavt, that loues with all affection:
    1370D solre, one Cliffe, two notes haue I,
    Ela mi, show pitty or I die,
    Call you this gamouth? tut I like it not,
    Old fashions please me best, I am not so nice
    To charge true rules for old inuentions.
    1375Enter a Messenger.
    Nicke. Mistresse, your father prayes you leaue your (books,
    And helpe to dresse your sisters chamber vp,
    You know to morrow is the wedding day.
    Bian. Farewell sweet masters both, I must be gone.
    1380Luc. Faith Mistresse then I haue no cause to stay.
    Hor. But I haue cause to pry into this pedant,
    Methinkes he lookes as though he were in loue:
    Yet if thy thoughts Bianca be so humble
    To cast thy wandring eyes on euery stale:
    1385Seize thee that List, if once I finde thee ranging,
    Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. Exit.