You are
welcome all.
Exeunt BIANCA, KATHERINA, and WIDOW
PETRUCHIO. She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.
TRANIO. O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
Which runs himself, and catches for his master.
PETRUCHIO. A good swift simile, but something currish.
TRANIO. 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself;
'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
BAPTISTA. O, O, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.
LUCENTIO. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
HORTENSIO. Confess,
confess; hath he not hit you here?
PETRUCHIO. 'A has a little gall'd me, I
confess;
And, as the jest did glance away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.
BAPTISTA. Now, in good
sadness, son Petruchio,
I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
PETRUCHIO. Well, I say no; and
therefore, for assurance,
Let's each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most
obedient,
To come at first when he doth send for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.
HORTENSIO. Content. What's the wager?
LUCENTIO. Twenty crowns.
PETRUCHIO. Twenty crowns?
I'll
venture so much of my hawk or hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.
LUCENTIO. A hundred then.
HORTENSIO. Content.
PETRUCHIO. A match! 'tis done.
HORTENSIO. Who shall begin?
LUCENTIO. That will I.
Go, Biondello, bid your
mistress come to me.
BIONDELLO. I go. Exit
BAPTISTA. Son, I'll be your half Bianca comes.
LUCENTIO. I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.
Re-enter BIONDELLO
How now! what news?
BIONDELLO. Sir, my
mistress sends you word
That she is busy and she cannot come.
PETRUCHIO. How! She's busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?
GREMIO. Ay, and a kind one too.
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
PETRUCHIO. I hope better.
HORTENSIO. Sirrah Biondello, go and
entreat my wife
To come to me
forthwith. Exit BIONDELLO
PETRUCHIO. O, ho!
entreat her!
Nay, then she must needs come.
HORTENSIO. I am afraid, sir,
Do what you can, yours will not be
entreated.
Re-enter BIONDELLO
Now, where's my wife?
BIONDELLO. She says you have some
goodly jest in hand:
She will not come; she bids you come to her.
PETRUCHIO. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Sirrah Grumio, go to your
mistress;
Say I command her come to me. Exit GRUMIO
HORTENSIO. I know her answer.
PETRUCHIO. What?
HORTENSIO. She will not.
PETRUCHIO. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Re-enter KATHERINA
BAPTISTA. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katherina!
KATHERINA. What is your sir, that you send for me?
PETRUCHIO. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?
KATHERINA. They sit conferring by the parlour fire.
PETRUCHIO. Go, fetch them
hither; if they deny to come.
Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
Away, I say, and bring them
hither straight.
Exit KATHERINA
LUCENTIO. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
HORTENSIO. And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.
PETRUCHIO. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
An awful rule, and right
supremacy;
And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.
BAPTISTA. Now fair
befall thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will ad
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.
PETRUCHIO. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built
virtue and obedience.
Re-enter KATHERINA with BIANCA and WIDOW
See where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.
[KATHERINA complies]
WIDOW. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh
Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
BIANCA. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?
LUCENTIO. I would your duty were as foolish too;
The
wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time!
BIANCA. The more fool you for laying on my duty.
PETRUCHIO. Katherine, I
charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
WIDOW. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.
PETRUCHIO. Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
WIDOW. She shall not.
PETRUCHIO. I say she shall. And first begin with her.
KATHERINA. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening
unkind brow,
And dart not
scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman mov'd is like a
fountain troubled-
Muddy, ill-
seeming, thick,
bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy
sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy
maintenance commits his body
To
painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other
tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience-
Too little
payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish,
sullen, sour,
And not
obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless
traitor to her
loving lord?
I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
Or seek for rule,
supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toll and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our
external parts?
Come, come, you froward and
unable worins!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our
weakness past compare,
That
seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot;
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
PETRUCHIO. Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
LUCENTIO. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't.
VINCENTIO. 'Tis a good
hearing when children are toward.
LUCENTIO. But a harsh
hearing when women are froward.
PETRUCHIO. Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
We three are married, but you two are sped.
[To LUCENTIO] 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
And being a
winner, God give you good night!
Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA
HORTENSIO. Now go thy ways; thou hast tam'd a curst shrow.
LUCENTIO. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.
Exeunt
-THE END-
.