Enter Grumio.

Gru. Fie, fie on all tired Jades, on all mad Masters, and all foul ways: Was ever Man fo beaten? was ever Man fo raide? was ever Man fo weary? I am fent before to make a Fire, and they are coming after to warm them: Now were I not a little Pot, and foon hot, my very Lips might freeze to my Teeth, my Tongue to the Roof of my Mouth, my Heart in my Belly, e'er I fhould come by a Fire to thaw me; but I with blowing the Fire fhall warm my felf; for confidering the Weather, a taller Man than I will take cold: Holla, holla, Curtis !

Enter Curtis.

Curt. Who is it that calls fo coldly?

Gru. A Piece of Ice: If thou doubt it, thou may'st slide from my Shoulder to my Heel, with no greater a run but my Head and my Neck. A Fire, good Curtis.

Curt. Is my Master and his Wife coming, Grumio? Gru. Oh ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore Fire, Fire, caft on no Water.

"Curt. Is fhe fo hot a Shrew as fhe's reported?

Gru. She was, good Curtis, before this Froft; but thou know'ft Winter tames Man, Woman and Beaft; for it hath tam'd my old Mafter, and my new Miftrefs, and my self, fellow Curtis.

Curt. Away, you three-inch'd Fool; I am no Beaft.

Gru. Am I but three Inches? why thy Horn is a Foot, and fo long am I at the leaft. But wilt thou make a Fire, or fhall I complain on thee to our Mistress, whofe Hand, The being now at Hand, thou fhalt foon feel to thy cold Comfort, being flow in thy hot Office,

Curt. I prethee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the World?

Gru. A cold World, Curtis, in every Office but thine; and therefore Fire: Do thy Duty, and have thy Duty; for my Mafter and Mistress are almoft frozen to Death.

Curt. There's Fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the News.

Gru. Why, Jack Boy, ho Boy, 'and as much News as

thou wilt.

Curt. Come, you are fo full of Cony catching.

Gra. Why therefore Fire; for I have caught extream cold. Where's

Where's the Cook? is Supper ready, the Houfe trimm'd, Rushes ftrew'd, Cobwebs fwept, the Serving-men in their new Fuftian, their white Stockings, and every Officer his wedding Garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, Carpets laid, and every thing in order?

Cur. All ready: And therefore I pray thee what News? Gru. First, know my Horfe is tired, my Mafter and Miftrefs fall'n out.

Cur. How?

Gru. Out of their Saddles into the Dirt; and thereby hangs a Tale.

Cur. Let's ha't, good Grumio.

Gru. Lend thine Ear.

Cur. Here.

Gru. There.

[Strikes him.

Cur. This 'tis to feel a Tale, not to hear a Tale.

Gru. And therefore 'tis call'd a fenfible Tale: and this Cuff was but to knock at your Ear, and befeech liftning. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a foul Hill, my Mafter riding behind my Mistress.

Cur. Both on one Horse?

Gru. What's that to thee?

Cur. Why a Horse.

Gru. Tell thou the Tale. But hadft thou not croft me, thou fhould'ft have heard how her Horfe fell, and fhe under her Horfe: thou should'ft have heard in how miery a place, how she was bemoil'd, how he left her with the Horfe upon her, how he beat me because her Horse stumbled, how the waded through the Dirt to pluck him off me; how he fwore, how the pray'd that never pray'd before; how I cry'd, how the Horfes ran away, how her Bridle was burft, how I loft my Crupper; with many things of worthy Memory, which now fhall die in Oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to the Grave.

Cur. By this reckoning he is more Shrew than the.

Gru. Ay, and that thou and the proudeft of you all fhall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Jofeph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugerfop, and the reft: Let their Heads be flickly comb'd, their blue Coats brufh'd, and their Garters of an indifferent knit; let them curtfie with their left Legs, and not prefume to touch

Pet. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dry'd away,
And I exprefly am forbid to touch it :
For it engenders Choler, planteth Anger,
And better 'twere that both of us did faft,
Since of our felves, our felves are Cholerick,
Than feed it with fuch over-rofted Flesh:
Be patient, to morrow't shall be mended,
And for this Night we'll faft for Company.

Come, I will bring thee to thy Bridal Chamber. [Exeunt.
Enter Servants feverally.

Nath. Peter, didft ever fee the like?

Peter. He kills her in her own Humour.
Gru. Where is he?

Enter Curtis, a Servant.

Cur. In her Chamber, making a Sermon of Continency to her, and rails, and fwears, and rates, and fhe, poor Soul, knows not which way to ftand, to look, to fpeak, and fits as one new rifen from a Dream. Away, away, for he is coming hither.

Enter Petruchio.

Pet. Thus have I politickly begun my Reign,
And 'tis my hope to end fuccefsfully:
My Faulcon now is fharp, and paffing empty,
And 'till the stoop, fhe muft not be full gorg'd,
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 bait and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no Meat to day, nor none shall eat.
Laft night she slept not, nor to night shall not:
As with the Meat, fome undeferved fault
I'll find about the making of the Bed.

And here I'll fling the Pillow, there the Bolfter,
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 conclufion, fhe fhall watch all night,
And if the chance to nod I'll rail and brawl,
And with the clamour keep her ftill awake.
This is a way to kill a Wife with kindness,

And

And thus I'll curb her mad and headftrong Humour.
He that knows better how to tame a Shrew,

Now let him fpeak, 'tis Charity to fhew.

Enter Tranio and Hortenfio.

Tra. Is't poffible, Friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca Doth fancy any other but Lucentio ?

I tell you, Sir, fhe bears me fair in hand.

Hor. Sir, to fatisfie you in what I have faid, Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. Enter Bianca and Lucentio.

[Exit.

Luc. Now, Miftrefs, profit you in what you read?
Bian. What Mafter read you firft, resolve me that?
Luc. I read that I profefs, the Art to Love.

Bian. And may you prove, Sir, Master of your Art. Luc. While you, fweet Dear, prove Mistress of my Heart. Hor. Quick Proceeders marry; now tell me I pray, you that durft fwear that your Mistress Bianca lov'd none in the World fo well as Lucentio.

Tra. Oh defpightful Love, unconftant Womankind; I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.

Hor. Miftake no more, I am not Licio,

Nor a Mufician, as I feem to be,

But one that fcorn to live in this Disguise,
For fuch a one as leaves a Gentleman,

And makes a God of fuch a Cullion;
Know, Sir, that I am call'd Hortenfio.
Tra. Signior Hortenfio, I have often heard
Of your entire Affection to Bianca,

And fince mine Eyes are witness of her Lightness,
I will with you, if you be fo contented,
Forfwear Bianca and her Love for ever.

Hor. See how they kifs and court. Signior Lucentio,
Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
As one unworthy all the former Favours
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigned Oath,
Never to marry with her, tho' fhe would entreat.
Fie on her, fee how beaftly fhe doth court him.
Hor. Would all the World but he had quite forfworn.
For me, that I may furely keep mine Oath,
I will be Married to a wealthy Widow,

E'er

E'er three days pafs, which has as long lov'd me,
As I have lov'd this proud difdainful Haggard.
And fo farewel, Signior Lucentio.

Kindness in Women, not their beauteous Looks,
Shall win my Love; and fo I take my leave,

In refolution as I fwore before.

[Exit Hor.

Tra. Mistress Bianca, blefs you with such Grace, As longeth to a Lover's bleffed Cafe:

Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle Love,

And have forfworn you with Hortenfio.

Bian. Tranio, you jeft: But have you both forfworn me? Tra. Miftrefs, we have.

Luc. Then we are rid of Licio.

Tra. I'faith he'll have a lufty Widow now,

That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.
Bian. God give him Joy.

Tra. Ay, and he'll tame her.

Bian. He fays fo, Tranio.

Tra. 'Faith he is gone unto.the taming School.

Bian. The taming School: What is there fuch a place? Tra. Ay, Miftrefs, and Petruchio is the Mafter, That teacheth Tricks eleven and twenty long, To tame a Shrew, and charm her chattering Tongue. Enter Biondello.

Bion. Oh Mafter, Mafter, I have watch'd fo long, That I am Dog-weary; but at laft I 'fpied

An ancient Angel coming down the Hill

Will ferve the turn.

Tra. What is he, Biondello?

Bion. Mafter, a Marcantant, or a Pedant;
I know not what; but formal in Apparel;
In Gate and Countenance furly, like a Father.
Luc. And what of him, Tranio ?

Tra. If he be credulous, and truft my Tale,

I'll make him glad to feem Vincentio,

And give affurance to Baptifta Minola,

As if he were the right Vincentio :

Take me your Love, and then let me alone. [Ex.Luc.& Bian.

Enter a Pedant.

Ped. God fave you, Sir.

Tra. And you, Sir; you are welcome:

Travel you far on, or are you at the fartheft?

Ped.