1

As Morning Rofes newly wafh'd with Dew;
Say the be mute, and will not fpeak a Word,
Then I'll commend her Volubility,

And say she uttereth piercing Eloquence:
If the do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As tho' fhe bid me ftay by her a Week;

If the deny to wed, I'll crave the Day

When I fhall ask the Banes, and when be married.
But here she comes, and now Petruchio speak.
Enter Katharina.

Good Morrow Kate, for that's your Name I hear.
Kath. Well have you heard, but fomething hard of hear
ing.

They call me Katherine, that do talk of me.

Pet. You lie infaith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate, and fometimes Kate the Curft:
But Kate, the prettieft Kate in Chriftendom,
Kate of Kate-ball, my Super-dainty Kate,
For Dainties are all Kates; and therefore Kate
Take this of me, Kate of my Confolation,
Hearing thy Mildness prais'd in every Town,
Thy Virtues spoke of, and thy Beauty founded,
Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs,

My felf am mov'd' to woo thee for my Wife.

Kath. Mov'd! in good time; let him that mov'd you hither, Remove you hence: I knew you at the first

You were a Moveable.

Pet. Why, what's a Moveable?

Kath. A join'd Stool.

Pet. Thou haft hit it; Come, fit on me.
Kath. Affes are made to bear, and fo are you.
Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you.
Kath. No fuch Jade, Sir, as you, if me you mean.
Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burthen thee,
For knowing thee to be but young and light-
Kath. Too light for fuch a Swain as you to catch,
And yet as heavy as my weight fhould be.
Pet. Should be! fhould! buz.

Kath. Well ta'en, and like a Buzzard.

Pet. Oh flow-wing'd Turtle, fhall a Buzzard take thee?
Kath. Ay, for a Turtle, as he takes a Buzzard.

P

Pet. Come, come you Wafp, I'faith you are too angry.

Kath. If I be wafpifh, 'beft beware my Sting.

Pet. My Remedy is then to pluck it out.

Kath. Ay, if the Fool could find it where it lyes.

Pet. Who knows not where a Wasp does wear his Sting? In his Tail.

Kath. In his Tongue.

Pet. Whole Tongue?

Kath. Yours if you talk of Tales, and fo farewel.
Pet. What, with my Tongue in your Tail.

Nay, come again, good Kate, I am a Gentleman.
Kath. That I'll try.

[She ftrikes him. Pet. I fwear I'll cuff you, if you ftrike again. Kath. So may you lose your Arms.

If you ftrike me you are no Gentleman,
And if no Gentleman, why then no Arms.

Pet. A Herald, Kate? Oh put me in thy Books.
Kath. What is your Creft, a Coxcomb?
Pet. A comblefs Cock, fo Kate will be my Hen.
Kath. No Cock of mine, you crow too like a Craven

Pet. Nay, come Kate; come, you must not look fo fower.
Kath. It is my Fashion when I fee a Crab.

Pet. Why here's no Crab, and therefore look not fower. Kath. There is, there is.

Pet. Then fhew it me.

Kath. Had I a Glafs I would.

Pet. What, you mean my Face.

Kath. Well aim'd of fuch a young one.

Pet. Now, by St. George I am too young for you.

Kath. Yet you are wither'd.

Pet. 'Tis with Cares.

Kath. I care not.

Pet. Nay, hear you Kate. Infooth
Kate. Infooth you 'scape not so.
Kath. I chafe you if I tarry; let me go.

Pet. No, not a whit, I find you paffing gentle:
'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and fullen,
And now I find Report a very Liar,

For thou art pleafant, gamefome, paffing courteous,
But flow in Speech, yet fweet as fpring-time Flowers.
Thou can'ft not frown, thou can'ft not look a fcance,

Nor

Nor bite the Lip, as angry Wenches will,
Nor haft thou Pleasure to be cross in Talk:
But thou with Mildness entertain'ft thy Wooers,
With gentle Conference, foft, and affable.

Why doth the World report that Kate doth limp?
Oh fland'rous World: Kate, like the Hazle Twig,!
Is ftraight, and flender, and as brown in hue
As Hazle Nuts, and fweeter than the Kernels.
Oh let me fee thee walk: thou doft not halt.

Kath. Go Fool, and whom thou keep'ft command,
Pet. Did ever Dian fo become a Grove,

As Kate this Chamber with her princely Gate:
O be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,

And then let Kate be chaft, and Dian fportful.
Kath. Where did you ftudy all this goodly Speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my Mother-wit.

Kath. A witty Mother, witlefs elfe her Son.
Pet. Am I not wife?

Kath. Yes, keep you warm.

Pet. Marry fo I mean, fweet Katharine, in thy Bed;
And therefore fetting all this Chat afide,

Thus in plain Terms: Your Father hath confented
That you fhall be my Wife; your Dowry 'greed on,
And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a Husband for your turn,
For by this Light, whereby I fee thy Beauty,
Thy Beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no Man but me.

Enter Baptifta, Gremio and Tranio.
For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
And bring you from a wild Cat to a Kate,
Conformable as other Houthold Kates;
Here comes your Father, never make Denial,
I muft and will have Katharine to my Wife,

Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how fpeed you with my
Daughter?

Pet. How but well, Sir? How but well? It were impoffible I fhould fpeed amifs.

Bap. Why how now Daughter Katharine, in your

Dumps?

Kath.

Kath. Call you me Daughter? Now I promise you
You have fhew'd a tender fatherly Regard,
To wish me wed to one half Lunatick,
A madcap Ruffian, and a fwearing Jack,
That thinks with Oaths to face the Matter out.
Pet. Father, 'tis thus ; your felf and all the World
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amifs of her;

If the be curft, it is for Policy,

For the's not forward, but modeft as the Dove:
She is not hot, but temperate as the Morn;
For Patience she will prove a fecond Griffel,
And Roman Lucrece for her Chastity.

And to conclude, we have 'greed fo well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding Day.

Kath. I'll fee thee hang'd on Sunday first.

Gre. Hark: Petruchio, the fays fhe'll fee thee hang'd first.
Tra. Is this your Speeding? Nay, then good night our part.
Pet. Be patient, Gentlemen, I chufe her for my felf,
If the and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain being alone,
That the fhall ftill be curft in Company.
I tell you 'tis incredible to believe

How much she loves me; oh the kindest Kate,
She hung about my Neck, and kiss and kiss
She vi'd fo faft, protesting Oath on Oath,
That in a Twink she won me to her Love.
Oh you are Novices, 'tis a World to fee
How tame when Men and Women are alone,
A meacock Wretch can make the curfteft 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.
I will be fure my Katharine shall be fine.

Bap. I know not what to fay, but give me your Hands, God fend you Joy, Petruchio, 'tis a Match.

Gre. Tra. Amen fay we, we will be Witneffes.
Pet. Father, and Wife, and Gentlemen, adieu,

I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,

We will have Rings, and Things, and fine Array,
And kifs me Kate, we will be married a Sunday.
[Exit Petruchio and Katharina.
Gre.

Gre. Was ever Match clapt up so suddenly?

Bap. Faith, Gentleman, now I play a Merchant's Part, And venture madly on a desparate Mart.

Tra. 'Twas a Commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you Gain, or perish on the Seas.
Bap. The Gain I feek, is quiet me the Match.
Gre. No doubt but he hath got a quiet Catch:
But now Baptifta, to your younger Daughter,
Now is the Day we long have looked for;
I am your Neighbour, and was Suitor first.
Tra. And I am one that love Bianca more
Than Words can witnefs, or your Thoughts can guess.
Gre. Youngling, thou canst not love fo Dear as I.
Tra. Grey-beard, thy Love doth freeze.

Gre. But thine doth fry.

Skipper, ftand back; 'Tis Age that nourisheth.

Tra. But Youth in Ladies Eyes that flourisheth.
Bap. Content you Gentlemen, I will compound this
Strife;

'Tis Deeds muft win the Prize, and he of both
That can affure my Daughter greatest Dower,
Shall have Bianca's Love.

Say, Signior Gremio, what can you affure her?

Gre. Firft, as you know, my House within the City
Is richly furnished with Plate and Gold,
Bafons and Ewers to lave her dainty Hands:
My Hangings all of Tirian Tapeftry;
In Ivory Coffers I have ftuft my Crowns,
In Cypress Chests my Arras Counterpoints;
Coftly Apparel, Tents and Canopies,
Fine Linnen, Turkey Cushions boft with Pearl,
Vallens of Venice Gold, in Needle-work;
Pewter and Brass, and all things that belong
To House, or Housekeeping: Then at my Farm
I have a hundred Milch-kine to the Pail,
Sixfcore fat Oxen ftanding in my Stalls;
And all things anfwerable to this Portion.
My felf am ftuck in Years, I must confess,
And if I die to Morrow, this is hers,
If whilft I live she will be only mine.

Tra.