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Pet. 'A has a little gall’d me, I confess ;
What ? And, as the jest did glance away from me,
She will not. 'Tis ten to one it maim’d you two * outright. Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. BAP. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
Enter KATHARINA, I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all. Pet. Well, I say—no: and, therefore, for BAP. Now, by my holidam, here comes assurance,
Katharina ! Let's each one send unto his wife ;
Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send And he, whose wife is most obedient
for me? To come at first when he doth send for her,
Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? Shall win the wager which we will propose.
Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire. HOR. Content : what is the wager ?
Pet. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come, Luc.
Twenty crowns. | Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands: Pet. Twenty crowns !
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight. I'll venture so much of my hawk, or hound,
[Exit KATHARINA, But twenty times so much upon my wife.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Luc. A hundred, then.
Hor. And so it is ; I wonder what it bodes. HOR. Content.
Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet Pet. A match ; 'tis done.
life, Hor. Who shall begin ?
An awful rule, and right supremacy ;
| And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy. Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
Bap. Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio ! Bion. I go.
[Erit. | The wager thou hast won ; and I will add BAP. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns, Luc. I'll have no halves ; I'll bear it all my- | Another dowry to another daughter, self.
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet; Re-enter BIONDELLO.
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
Re-enter KATHARINA, with Bianca and Widow. Pet. How ! she is busy, and she cannot come ! | See, where she comes ; and brings your froward Is that an answer ?
wives, GRE. Ay, and a kind one too:
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion. Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse. Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not; Pet. I hope, better.
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot. HOR. Sirrah Biondello, go, and entreat my wife, [KATHARINA pulls off her' cap, and throws it down. To come to me forthwith. [Exit BIONDELLO.
Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, Pet.
O, ho! entreat her! | Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
I am afraid, sir,
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too: Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost mean hundred crownssince supper-time. Re-enter BIONDELLO.
BIAN. The more fool you, for laying on my duty. Now where 's my wife ?
Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headBion. She says, you have some goodly jest in
strong women, hand;
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. She will not come ; she bids you come to her. Wib. Come, come, you're mocking; we will Per. Worse and worse; she will not come !
have no telling.
Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her. Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Wid. She shall not. Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress ;
Pet. I say, she shall;—and first begin with her. Say, I command her come to me. [Exit GRUMIO. Kath. Fie, fie ! unknit that threat’ning unkind Hor. I know her answer.
b An hundred crowns - ] The old reading is, “Hath cost me five hundred crowns." Pope made the correction.
(*) First folio, too. a For assurance,-) For is the correction of the second folio; the first has sir.
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, Should well agree with our external parts ?
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown ;
But now, I see our lances are but straws, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare, And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
That seeming to be most, which we indeed least Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
are. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Then vail your stomachs,a for it is no boot, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And place your hands below your husbands' foot: And for thy maintenance: commits his body In token of which duty, if he please, To painful labour, both by sea and land ;
My hand is ready, may it do him ease! To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, Pet. Why, there's a wench !—come on, and Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ;
kiss me, Kate. And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
ha't. Too little payment for so great a debt.
VIN. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
toward. Even such, a woman oweth to her husband :
Luc. But a harsh hearing when women are And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
froward And not obedient to his honest will,
Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed :What is she, but a foul contending rebel,
We three are married, but you two are sped. And graceless traitor to her loving lord ?
'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white; I am asham'd, that women are so simple
[T. LUCENTIO. To offer war, where they should kneel for peace; And being a winner, God give you good night! Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and Kath. When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curst Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
shrew." Unapt to toil, and trouble in the world,
Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
the fumes of bomen to carry a what they would
(1) SCENE I.-The following is the story mentioned in | such a feast: carousses begin after the manner of the Country ; the Preliminary Notice as the most probable source
# * # They serve him with very strong wine, good Hipocras,
which hee swallowed downe in great draughts, and frequently whence the author of the “ Taming of a Shrew" derived
redoubled; so that, charged with so many extraordinaryes, he the notion of his Prelude :
yeelded to death's cousin german, sleep. * * * THE WAKING MAN'S DREAME.
Then the right Duke, who had put himselfe among the throng
of his Omicers to have the pleasure of this mummery, comIn the time that Phillip, Duke of Burgundy (who by the manded that this sleeping man should be stript out of his brave gentlenesse and curteousnesse of his carriage purchaste the naine cloathes, and cloathed againe in his old ragges, and so sleeping of Good,) guided the reines of the country of Flanders, this carried and layd in the same place where he was taken up the prince, who was of an humour pleasing, and full of judicious night before. This was presently done, and there did he snort goodnesse, rather then silly simplicitie, used pastimes which all the night long, not taking any hurt either from the hardnesse for their singularity are commonly called the pleasures of of the stones or the night ayre, so well was his stomacke filled Princes: after this manner he no lesse shewed the quaintnesse of with good preservatives. Being awakened in the morning by his wit then his prudence.
sone passenger, or it may bee by some that the good Duke Being in Bruxelles with all his Court, and having at his table Philip had thereto appointed, ha! said he, my friends, what have discoursed amply enough of the vanities and greatnesse of this you done? you have rob'd mee of a Kingdome, and have taken world, he let each one say his pleasure on this subject, whereon mee out of the sweetest, and happiest dreame that ever man was alleadged grave sentences and rare examples: walking to could have fallen into. * * * Being returned home to his house, wards the evening in the towne, his head full of divers thoughts, hee entertaines his wife, neighbours, and friends, with this his he found a Tradesman lying in a corner sleeping very soundly, dreame, as hee thought. * * * the fumes of Bacchus having surcharged his braine. * * * * * He caused his men to carry away this sleeper, with whom, as
In his adaptation of the foregoing incident to the purwith a blocke, they mighte doe what they would, without awaking him; he caused them to carry him into one of the sumptuou sest
| poses of the stage, the writer of the old play has displayed parts of his Pallace, into a chamber most state-like furnished, a knowledge of character and an appreciation of humour and makes them lay him on a rich bed. They presently strip him and effect which entitle him, perhaps, to higher commend. of his bad cloathes, and put him on a very fine and cleane shirt, ation than he has yet received. His Induction opens in stead of his own, which was foule and filthy. They let him sleepe
thus : in that place at his ease, and whilest hee settles his drinke the Duke prepares the pleasantest pastime that can be imagined
In the morning, this drunkard being awake drawes the curtaines “ Enter a Tapster, beating out of his doores Slie Droonken.* of this brave rich bed, sees himselfe in a chamber adorned like a
Tapster. You whorson droonken slaue, you had best be gone, Paradice, he considers the rich furniture with an amazement
And empty your droonken panch some where else such as you may imagine: he beleeves not his eyes, but layes his
For in this house thou shali not rest to night. Exit Tapster. finger on them, and feeling them open, yet perswades himselfe
Slie. Tilly, vally, by crisee Tapster Ile fese you anon. they are shut by sleep, and that all he sees is but a pure
Fils the tother pot and alls paid for, looke you dreame.
I doo drinke it of mine owne Instegation, Omne bene Assoone as he was knowne to be awake, in comes the officers of the Dukes house, who were instructed by the Duke what they
Heere Ile lie awhile, why Tapster I say,
Fils a fresh cushen heere. should do. There were pages bravely apparelled, Gentlemen of the chamber, Gentleman waiters, and the High Chamberlaine,
Heigh ho, heers good warme lying
He fals asleepe. who, all in faire order and without laughing, bring cloathing for this new guest: they honour him with the same great reverences as if hee were a Soveraigne Prince; they serve him bare headed,
Enter a Noble man and his men from hunting. and aske him what suite hee will please to weare that day.
Lord. Now that the gloomie shaddow of the night, This fellow, affrighted at the first, beleeving these things to be
Longing to view Orions drisling lookes, inchantment or dreames, reclaimed by these submissions, tooke
Leapes from th' antarticke world into the skie, heart, and grew bold, and setting a good face on the matter,
And dims the Welkin with her pitchie breath, chused amongst all the apparell that they presented unto hin
And darkesome night oreshades the christall heauens, that which he liked best, and which hee thought to be fittest for
Here breake we off our hunting for to night; him: he is accommodated like a King, and served with such
Cupple vppe the hounds and let vs hie ys home, ceremonies, as he had never seene before, and yet beheld them
And bid the huntsman see them meated well, without saying any thins, and with an assured countenance.
For they haue all deseru'd it well to daie, This done, the greatest Nobleman in the Dukes Court enters the
But soft, what sleepie fellow is this lies heere? chamber with the same reverence and honour to him as if he had
Or is he dead, see one what he dooth lacke? been their Soveraigne Prince. * *
Seruingman. My lord, tis nothing but a drunken sleepe, Being risen late, and dinner time approaching, they asked if he
His head is too heauie for his bodie, were pleased to have his tables covered. He likes that very well :
And he hath drunke so much that he can go no furder. * * * he eates with the same ceremony which was observed at
Lord. Fie, how the slauish villaine stinkes of drinke. the Dukes meales, he made good cheere, and chawed with all his
Ho, sirha arise. What so sounde asleepe? teeth, but only drank with more moderation than he could have
Go take him vppe and beare him to my house, wisht, but the Majesty which he represented made him refraine.
And beare him easilie for feare he wake," &c. &c. All taken away, he was entertained with new and pleasant things: * * # they made him passe the afternoone in all kinds of
(2) SCENE II.-Enter Lord, dressed like a servant.] Com sports: musicke, dancing, and a Comedy, spent some part of the time. * *
pare Shakespeare's admirable picture of the tinker's Super time approaching, * * * he was led with sound of transmutation with the corresponding scene in the Trumpets and Hoboyes into a faire hall, where long Tables were original :set, which were presently covered with divers sorts of dainty meates, the Torches shined in every corner, and made a day in the midst of a night. * * * Never was the imaginary Duke at * Our extracts are quoted literatim from the edition of 1594.
“ Enter two with a table and a banquet on it, and two other with
Slie asleepe in a chaire, richlie apparelled, and the musicke plaieng.
Slie. Simon, thats as much as to say Simion or Simon
· Lord. How now, what is all thinges readie ?
Lord. Then sound the musick, and Ile wake him straight,
Slie. Tapster, gis a little small ale. Heigh ho.
Lord. More richer farre your honour hath to weare,
Wil. And if your honour please to ride abroad,
Tom. And if your honour please to hunt the deere,
Slie. By the masse I think I am a Lord indeed,
Lord. Simon and it please your honour.
(3) SCENE II.--Enter the Page, &c.] In the old play the scene proceeds as follows:
“Enter the boy in Womans attire.
Boy. Oh that my louelie Lord would once vouchsafe
Slie. Harke you mistrese, will you eat a peece of bread,
Lord. May it please you, your honors plaiers be come ;
Slie. A plaie Sim, o braue, be they my plaiers ?
Lord. Ile cal them my lord. Hoe where are you there?”
(1) SCENE I.-Gremio.] In the first folio, Gremio is 1 and the letters y or i are used indifferently, ono being as called “a Panteloune.” N Pantalone was the old baffled right as the other. But although the word is really an amoroso of the early Italian Comedy, and, like the Pedant adverb, Sir Frederic Madden thinks it questionable and the Braggart, formed a never-failing source of ridicule whether, in the latter part of the fifteenth century, it was upon the Italian stage.
not regarded as a pre noun and a verb, equivalent to the
German ich weiss.* That it was so considered in the six(2) SCENE I.-I wis, it is not half way to her heart.] The teenth and seventeenth centuries seems pretty generally word I vis, in its origin, is the Anglo-Saxon adjective admitted. In Shakespeare it is always printed with a gewis, certain, sure, which is still preserved in the modern capital letter, I uis; and we have no doubt he used it as German gewiss, and Dutch gewis. It is always used ad a pronoun and a verb, not knowing its original sense as verbially in the English writers of the thirteenth, four an adverb. teenth, and fifteenth centuries, and it invariably means certainly, truly. The change of the Anglo-Saxon ge to y
• See the Glossary to Sir Frederic Madden's “Syr Gawayne. or i, appears to have been made in the thirteenth century, | Printed for the Bannatyne Club, 1839."
E I.-E.reunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA severally.] Compare the interview of the hero and heroine in the old comedy :
“ Enter Kale.
Alfon. Ha Kate, Come hither wench & list to me,
Feran. Twentie good morrowes to my louely Kate
Kate. The deuill you doo, who told you so?
Feran. My mind sweet Kate doth say I am the man,
Kate. Was euer seene so grose an asse as this?
Kate. Hands off I say, and get you from this place;
Feran. I prethe doo Kate; they say thou art a shrew,
Kale. Let go my hand for feare it reech your eare.
Kate. In faith sir no, the woodcock wants his taile.
(2) SCENE I.-Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.] “A Peran. But yet his bil wil serue, if the other faile.
common phrase," says Nares, “which we may suppose to Alfon. How now, Ferando, what saies my daughter!
have been derived from some game (possibly primero), Peran. Shees willing sir and loues me as hir life. Kate. Tis for your skin then, but not to be your wife.
wherein the standing boldly upon a ten was often successful. Alfon. Come hither Kate and let me giue thy hand
A card of ten meant a tenth card, a ten, &c. I conceive To him that I haue chosen for thy loue,
the force of the phrase to have expressed, originally, the And thou tomorrow shalt be wed to him.
confidence or impudence of one who, with a ten, as at Kate. Why father what do you meane to doo with me,
brag, faced, or out-faced one who had really a faced card To giue me thus ynto this brainsick man, That in his mood cares not to murder me?
against him. To face, meant, as it still does, to bully, to She turnes aside and speakes. attack by impudence of face." But yet I will consent and marrie him, For I methinkes haue liued too long a maid, And match him to, or else his manhoods good.
(3) SCENE I.-If I fail not of my cunning.) At the ter. Alfon Giue me thy hand Perando loues thee wel
mination of this scene in the original, the following bit of And will with wealth and ease maintaine thy state, Here Ferando take her for thy wife,
by-play is introduced :And Sunday next shall be your wedding day. Feran. Why so, did I not tell thee I should be the man
“ Slie. Sim, when will the foole come againe ! Father, I leaue my loulie Kate with you,
Lord. Heele come againe my Lord anon. Prouide your selues against our mariage daie;
Slie. Gis some more drinke here, souns wheres For I must hie me to my countrie house
The Tapster, here Sim eate some of these things. In hast to see prouision may be made,
Lord. So I doo my Lord. To entertaine my Kate when she dooth come.
Slie. Here Sim, I drinke to thee." Alfon. Doo so, come Kate why doost thou looke
Lord. My Lord heere comes the plaiers againe, So sad, be merrie wench thy wedding daies at hand.
Slie. O braue, heers two fine gentlewomen." Sonne fare you well, and see you keepe your promise.
Exit Alfonso and Kate."
(1) SCENE II.-Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO.] The | in Robert Armin's Comedy of “ The History of the Two answerable scene to this in the old piece, though not Maids of Moreclacke," 1609, the play begins with :without humour, is much inferior :
“Enter a Maid strewing flowers, and a serving-man persuming
the door. “ Enter Perando baselie attired, and a red cap on his head.
Maid. Strew, strew. Feran. Godmorow father, Polidor well met,
Man. The muscadine stays for the bride at church : You wonder I know that I haue staid so long.
The priest and Hymen's ceremonies tend Alfon. I marrie son, we were almost perswaded,
To make them man and wife." That we should scarse haue had our bridegroome heere,
So at the marriage of Mary and Philip in Winchester But say, why art thou thus basely attired ? Feran, Thus richlie father you should haue said,
Cathedral, 1554, we read :-"The trumpets sounded, and For when my wife and I am married once,
they returned to their traverses in the quire, and there Shees such a shrew, if we should once fal out
remayned untill masse was done ; at which tyme, wyne Sheele pul my costlie sutes ouer mine eares,
and supes were hallowed and delyvered to them both."And therefore am I thus attired awhile,
Appendix to LELAND's Collectanea.
(3) SCENE II.-Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and Nor Lammes to Lions neuer was so tame,
GRUMIO.] Perbaps in no part of the play is the immcaIf once they lie within the Lions pawes
surable superiority of Shakespeare to his predecessor As Kale to me if we were married once,
more evident than in the boisterous vigour and excitation And therefore come let vs to church presently.
of this scene. Compared with it, the corresponding situPol. Fie Ferando not thus atired for shame Come to my Chamber and there sute thy selfe,
ation in the original is torpidity itself :Of twentie sutes that I did neuer were.
“ Enter Ferando and Kate and Alfonso and Polidor and Amelia Feran. Tush Polidor I haue as many sutes
and Aurelius and Philema. Fantasticke made to fit my humor so
Feran. Father farwell, my Kate and I must home,
Sirra go make ready my horse presentlie.
Alfon. Your horse? What son I hope you doo but iest And this from them haue I made choise to weare.
I am sure you will not go so suddainly. Alfon. I prethie Ferando let me intreat
Kate. Let him go or tarry I am resolu'de to stay,
And not to trauell on my wedding day.
Feran. Tut Kate I tell thee we must needes go home,
Villaine hast thou saddled my horse?
San. Which horse, your curtall ?
Peran. Sounes you slaue stand you prating here?
Kate. Not for me: for Ile not go. (2) SCENE II.
San. The ostler will not let me haue him you owe ten pence “He calls for wine
For his meate and 6 pence for stuffing my Mistris saddle. --- quaff'd off the muscadel," dc.)
Feran. Here villaine go pay him straight. The custom of taking wine and sops in the church upon
San. Shall I giue them another pecke of lauender. the conclusion of the marriage ceremonies is very ancient,
Feran. Out slaue and bring them presently to the dore,
Alfon. Why son I hope at least youle dine with vs. and in this country, in our author's time, it was almost
San. I pray you maister lets stay till dinner be don. universal. The beverage usually chosen was Muscadel, or
Feran. Sounes villaine art thou here yet!
Ex Sander. Muscadine, or a medicated drink called Hippocras. Thus, Come Kate our dinner is prouided at home.