LITMIR.BIZ

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not angry.

       Kath.

      I will be angry; what hast thou to do?

      Father, be quiet, he shall stay my leisure.

       Gre.

      Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.

       Kath.

      Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.

      I see a woman may be made a fool,

      If she had not a spirit to resist.

       Pet.

      They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.

      Obey the bride, you that attend on her.

      Go to the feast, revel and domineer,

      Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,

      Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves;

      But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.

      Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret,

      I will be master of what is mine own.

      She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,

      My household stuff, my field, my barn,

      My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;

      And here she stands, touch her whoever dare,

      I’ll bring mine action on the proudest he

      That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,

      Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves;

      Rescue thy mistress if thou be a man

      Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate!

      I’ll buckler thee against a million.

       Exeunt Petruchio, Katherina, [and Grumio].

       Bap.

      Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.

       Gre.

      Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.

       Tra.

      Of all mad matches never was the like.

       Luc.

      Mistress, what’s your opinion of your sister?

       Bian.

      That being mad herself, she’s madly mated.

       Gre.

      I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

       Bap.

      Neighbors and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants

      For to supply the places at the table,

      You know there wants no junkets at the feast.

      Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom’s place,

      And let Bianca take her sister’s room.

       Tra.

      Shall sweet Bianca practice how to bride it?

       Bap.

      She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let’s go.

       Exeunt.

       ¶

       Francis Wheatley, p. — John Peter Simon, e.

      [ACT IV]

      [Scene I]

       Enter Grumio.

      Gru. Fie, fie on all tir’d jades, on all mad masters, and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so ray’d? 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.

      Curt. Who is that calls so coldly?

      Gru. 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.

      Curt. Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?

      Gru. O ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire; cast on no water.

      Curt. Is she so hot a shrew as she’s reported?

      Gru. She was, good Curtis, before this frost; but thou know’st winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tam’d my old master and my new mistress and myself, fellow Curtis.

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

      Gru. 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?

      Curt. I prithee, 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 master and mistress are almost 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 wilt thou.

      Curt. Come, you are so full of cony-catching!

      Gru. Why, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimm’d, rushes strew’d, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, [their] white stockings, and every officer his wedding garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Gills fair without, the carpets laid, and every thing in order?

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

      Gru. First, know my horse is tir’d, my master and mistress fall’n out.

      Curt. How?

      Gru. Out of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby hangs a tale.

      Curt. Let’s ha’t, good Grumio.

      Gru. Lend thine ear.

      Curt. Here.

      Gru. There.

       [Strikes him.]

      Curt. This ’tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.

      Gru. And therefore ’tis call’d a sensible tale; and this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech list’ning. Now I begin: Inprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress—

      Curt. Both of one horse?

      Gru. What’s that to thee?

      Curt. Why, a horse.

      Gru. Tell thou the tale. But hadst thou not cross’d 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 bemoil’d, how he left

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