What news with you, sir?
Haberdasher Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
PETRUCHIO Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish: fie, fie! ’tis lewd and filthy:
Why, ’tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby’s cap:
Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.
KATHARINA I’ll have no bigger: this doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these
PETRUCHIO When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
And not till then.
HORTENSIO [Aside] That will not be in haste.
KATHARINA Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endured me say my mind,
And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart concealing it will break,
And rather than it shall, I will be free
Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
PETRUCHIO Why, thou say’st true; it is a paltry cap,
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie:
I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.
KATHARINA Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
And it I will have, or I will have none.
Exit Haberdasher
PETRUCHIO Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see’t.
O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
What’s this? a sleeve? ’tis like a demi-cannon:
What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
Here’s snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber’s shop:
Why, what, i’ devil’s name, tailor, call’st thou this?
HORTENSIO [Aside] I see she’s like to have neither cap nor gown.
Tailor You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCHIO Marry, and did; but if you be remember’d,
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go, hop me over every kennel home,
For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
I’ll none of it: hence! make your best of it.
KATHARINA I never saw a better-fashion’d gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCHIO Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
Tailor She says your worship means to make
a puppet of her.
PETRUCHIO O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
thou thimble,
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread?
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr’d her gown.
Tailor Your worship is deceived; the gown is made
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIO I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
Tailor But how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIO Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
Tailor But did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIO Thou hast faced many things.
Tailor I have.
GRUMIO Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not
me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto
thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did
not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.
Tailor Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
PETRUCHIO Read it.
GRUMIO The note lies in’s throat, if he say I said so.
Tailor [Reads] ‘Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:’
GRUMIO Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in
the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom
of brown thread: I said a gown.
PETRUCHIO Proceed.
Tailor [Reads] ‘With a small compassed cape:’
GRUMIO I confess the cape.
Tailor [Reads] ‘With a trunk sleeve:’
GRUMIO I confess two sleeves.
Tailor [Reads] ‘The sleeves curiously cut.’
PETRUCHIO Ay, there’s the villany.
GRUMIO Error i’ the bill, sir; error i’ the bill.
I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and
sewed up again; and that I’ll prove upon thee,
though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
Tailor This is true that I say: an I had thee
in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIO I am for thee straight: take thou the
bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIO God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCHIO Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIO You are i’ the right, sir: ’tis for my mistress.
PETRUCHIO Go, take it up unto thy master’s use.
GRUMIO Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress’
gown for thy master’s use!
PETRUCHIO Why, sir, what’s your conceit in that?
GRUMIO O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use!
O, fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCHIO [Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
HORTENSIO Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow:
Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
Exit Tailor
PETRUCHIO Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father’s
Even in these honest mean habiliments:
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
For ’tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
What is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his fathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.
if thou account’st it shame. lay it on me;
And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father’s house.
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot
Let’s see; I think ’tis now some seven o’clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.
KATHARINA I dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two;
And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCHIO It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it. Sirs, let’t alone:
I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
It shall be what o’clock I say it is.
HORTENSIO [Aside] Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
Exeunt
Scene 4
Padua. Before BAPTISTA’S house.
Enter TRANIO, and the Pedant dressed like VINCENTIO
TRANIO Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?
Pedant Ay, what else? and but I be deceived
Signior Baptista may remember me,
Near twenty years ago, in Genoa,
Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
TRANIO ‘Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
With such austerity as ‘longeth to a father.
Pedant I warrant you.
Enter BIONDELLO
But, sir, here comes your boy;
‘Twere good he were school’d.
TRANIO Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
Now do your duty throughly, I advise you:
Imagine ’twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLO Tut, fear not me.
TRANIO But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLO I told him that your father was at Venice,
And that you look’d for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO Thou’rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.
Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir.
Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO
Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
To the Pedant
Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of:
I pray you stand good father to me now,
Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
Pedant Soft son!
Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
Of love between your daughter and himself:
And, for the good report I hear of you
And for the love he beareth to your daughter
And she to him, to stay him not too long,
I am content, in a good father’s care,
To have him match’d; and if you please to like
No worse than I, upon some agreement
Me shall you find ready and willing
With one consent to have her so bestow’d;
For curious I cannot be with you,
Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
BAPTISTA Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
Right true it is, your son Lucentio here
Doth love my daughter and she loveth him,
Or both dissemble deeply their affections:
And therefore, if you say no more than this,
That like a father you will deal with him
And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
The match is made, and all is done: