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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.
[Exit. 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.
word That she is busy, and she cannot come.
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 ?
Ay, and a kind one too: As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
becomes 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, Per.
0, ho! entreat her! Till I be brought to such a silly pass ! Nay, then she must needs come.
Bian. Fie! what a foolish duty call you
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 crowns since 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. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will PET. Worse and worse; she will not come !
have no telling O vile,
Pet. Come I 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 wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor : Come, come, you froward and unable worms, It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads, My mind hath been as big as one of yours, Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds, My heart as great ; my reason, haply, more, And in no sense is meet or amiable.
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown ; A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled, 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. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Then vail your stomachs," 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, Per. Why, there's a wench !—come on, and Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ;
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
[To 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,
a Then vail your stomachs,-) Abase your pride, your spirit. Thus, in “Henry IV.” Part II. Act I. Sc. 1, we are told the bloody Douglas
“ 'Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame
Of those that turn'd their backs." b Thou hast tam'd a curst shrew.) Shrew here was doubtless intended to be pronounced shrow. See Note (a), p. 271.
(1) SCENE I.-The following is the story mentioned in the Preliminary Notice as the most probable source whence the author of the "Taming of a Shrew" derived the notion of his Prelude :-
THE WAKING MAN'S DREAME. In the time that Phillip, Duke of Burgundy (who by the gentlenesse and curteousnesse of his carriage purchaste the name of Good,) guided the reines of the country of Flanders, this prince, who was of an humour pleasing, and full of judicious goodnesse, rather then silly simplicitie, used pastimes which for their singularity are commonly called the pleasures of Princes: after this manner he no lesse shew:d the quaintnesse of his wit then his prudence.
Being in Bruxelles with all his Court, and having at his table discoursed amply enough of the vanities and greatnesse of this world, he let each one say his pleasure on this subject, whereon was alleadged grave sentences and rare examples: walking towards the evening in the towne, his head full of divers thoughts, he found a Tradesman lying in a corner sleeping very soundly, the fumes of Bacchus having surcharged his braine. * He caused his men to carry away this sleeper, with whom, as with a blocke, they mighte doe what they would, without awaking him; he caused them to carry him into one of the sumptuou sest parts of his Pallace, into a chamber most state-like furnished, and makes them lay him on a rich bed. They presently strip him of his bad cloathes, and put him on a very fine and cleane shirt, in stead of his own, which was foule and filthy. They let him sleepe 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 of this brave rich bed, sees himselfe in a chamber adorned like a Paradice, he considers the rich furniture with an amazement such as you may imagine: he beleeves not his eyes, but layes his finger on them, and feeling them open, yet perswades himselfe they are shut by sleep, and that all he sees is but a pure dreame.
Assoone as he was knowne to be awake, in comes the officers of the Dukes house, who were instructed by the Duke what they should do. There were pages bravely apparelled, Gentlemen of the chamber, Gentleman waiters, and the High Chamberlaine, 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, and aske him what suite hee will please to weare that day.
This fellow, affrighted at the first, beleeving these things to be inchantment or dreames, reclaimed by these submissions, tooke heart, and grew bold, and setting a good face on the matter, chused amongst all the apparell that they presented unto him that which he liked best, and which hee thought to be fittest for him: he is accommodated like a King, and served with such ceremonies, as he had never seene before, and yet beheld them without saying any thing, and with an assured countenance. This done, the greatest Nobleman in the Dukes Court enters the chamber with the same reverence and honour to him as if he had been their Soveraigne Prince. * * *
Being risen late, and dinner time approaching, they asked if he were pleased to have his tables covered. He likes that very well : * * * he eates with the same ceremony which was observed at the Dukes meales, he made good cheere, and chawed with all his teeth, but only drank with more moderation than he could have wisht, but the Majesty which he represented made him refraine. All taken away, he was entertained with new and pleasant things: * * * they made him passe the afternoone in all kinds of sports : musicke, dancing, and a Comedy, spent some part of the time. # #
Super time approaching, *** he was led with sound of Trumpets and Hoboyes into a faire hall, where long Tables were 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
such a feast: carousses begin after the manner of the Country ;
# They serve him with very strong wine, good Hipocras, which hee swallowed downe in great draughts, and frequently redoubled; so that, charged with so many extraordinaryes, he yeelded to death's cousin german, sleep. *
Then the right Duke, who had put himselfe among the throng of his officers to have the pleasure of this mummery, commanded that this sleeping man should be stript out of his brave cloathes, and cloathed againe in his old ragges, and so sleeping carried and layd in the same place where he was taken up the night before. This was presently done, and there did he snort all the night long, not taking any hurt either from the hardnesse of the stones or the night ayre, so well was his stomacke filled with good preservatives. Being awakened in the morning by sone passenger, or it may bee by some that the good Duke Philip had thereto appointed, ha! said he, my friends, what have you done? you have rob'd mee of a Kingdome, and have taken mee out of the sweetest, and happiest dreame that ever man could have fallen into. * * * Being returned home to his house, hee entertaines his wife, neighbours, and friends, with this his dreame, as hee thought. * *
In his adaptation of the foregoing incident to the pur. poses of the stage, the writer of the old play has displayed a knowledge of character and an appreciation of humour and effect which entitle him, perhaps, to higher commend. ation than he has yet received. His Induction opens thus:
“Enter a Tapster, beating out of his doores Slie Droonken.*
Tapster. You whorson droonken slaue, you had best be gone,
Slie. Tilly, vally, by crisee Tapster Ile fese you anon.
He fals asleepe.
Enter a Noble man and his men from hunting.
Seruingman. My lord, tis nothing but a drunken sleepe,
Lord. Fie, how the slauish villaine stinkes of drinke.
(2) SCENE II.-Enter Lord, dressed like a servant.] Compare Shakespeare's admirable picture of the tinker's transmutation with the corresponding scene in the original :
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. One. So: sirha now go call my Lord, And tel him that all things is ready as he wild it.
Another. Set thou some wine v pon the boord And then lle go fetch my Lord presentlie.
Enter the Lord and his men.
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,
will fetch them straight.
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.
Slie. Simon, thats as much as to say Simion or Simon
(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 ?
Erit boy. Slie. Come Sim, where be the plaiers? Sim stand by me and weele flout the plaiers out of their cotes.
Lord. Ile cal them my lord. Hoe where are you there?”
(1) SCENE I.-Gremio.) In the first folio, Gremio is called “a Panteloune.' N Pantalone was the old baffled amoroso of the early Italian Comedy, and, like the Pedant and the Braggart, formed a never-failing source of ridicule upon the Italian stage.
and the letters y or i are used indifferently, one being as right as the other. But although the word is really an adverb, Sir Frederic Madden thinks it questionable whether, in the latter part of the fifteenth century, it was not regarded as a pronoun and a verb, equivalent to the German ich weiss. * That it was so considered in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries seems pretty generally admitted. In Shakespeare it is always printed with a capital letter, I wis; and we have no doubt he used it as a pronoun and a verb, not knowing its original sense as an adverb.
(2) SCENE I.-I wis, it is not half way to her heart.] The word I vis, in its origin, is the Anglo-Saxon adjective gevis, certain, sure, which is still preserved in the modern German gewiss, and Dutch gewis. It is always used adverbially in the English writers of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, and it invariably means certainly, truly. The change of the Anglo-Saxon ge to y or i, appears to have been made in the thirteenth century,
• See the Glossary to Sir Frederic Madden's "Syr Gawayne. Printed for the Bannat, ne Club, 1839."
(1) SCENE I.--Exeunt 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, Vse this gent an friendlie as thou canst.
Feran. Twentie good morrowes to my louely Kate Kate. You iest I am sure, is she yours alreadie ? Feran. I tell thee Kate I know thou lou'st me well
Kate. The deuill you doo, who told you so?
Kate. Was euer seene so grose an asse as this?
Kate. Hands off I say, and get you from this place; Or I wil set my ten commandments in your face.
Feran. I prethe doo Kate; they say ihou art a shrew, And I like thee the better for I would haue thee so.
Kate. 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), F'eran. 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."
(3) SCENE I.-If I fail not of my cunning.) At the ter. Alfon Giue me thy hand Perando loues thee wel And will with wealth and ease maintaine thy state,
mination of this scene in the original, the following bit of 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.
Exii Alfonso and Kate."
(1) SCENE II.-Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO.) The answerable scene to this in the old piece, though not without humour, is much inferior :
“ Enter Ferando baselie attired, and a red cap on his head.
Feran. Godmorow father, Polidor well met,
Alfon. I marrie son, we were almost perswaded,
in Robert Armin's Comedy of “The History of the Two Maids of Moreclacke," 1609, the play begins with :-
“ Enter a Maid strewing flowers, and a serving-man persuming the door.
Maid. Strew, strew.
So at the marriage of Mary and Philip in Winchester Cathedral, 1554, we read :--"The trumpets sounded, and they returned to their traverses in the quire, and there remayned untill masse was done ; at which tyme, wyne and supes were hallowed and delyvered to them both." Appendix to LELAND's Collectanea.
Feran. Thus richlie father you should haue said,
Pol. Fie Ferando not thus atired for shame Come to my Chamber and there sute thy selfe, of twentie sutes that I did neuer were.
Feran. Tush Polidor I haue as many sutes
Alfon. I prethie Ferando let me intreat
Feran. Not for the world if I might gaine it so, And therefore take me thus or not at all."
(3) SCENE II.-Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and
and Aurelius and Philema.
Alfon. Your horse? What son I hope you doo but iest
Kate. Let him go or tarry I am resolu’de to stay,
Feran. Tut Kate I tell thee we must needes go home,
San. Which horse, your curtall ?
Peran. Sounes you slaue stand you prating here!
Kate. Not for me : for Ile not go.
San. The ostler will not let me haue him you owe ten pence
Feran. Here villaine go pay him straight.
(2) SCENE II.-
quaff' d of the muscadel," &c.]