The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) π
The world will be thy widow and still weep,
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep,
By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind:
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it:
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murd'rous shame commits.
10
For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov'st is most evident:
For thou art so possessed with murd'rous hate,
That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
O change thy thought, that I may change my mind,
Shall hate be fairer lodged than
Read free book Β«The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) πΒ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: William Shakespeare
- Performer: 0517053616
Read book online Β«The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) πΒ». Author - William Shakespeare
And makes a god of such a cullion.
Know, sir, that I am callβd Hortensio.
TRANIO. Signior Hortensio, I have often heard Of your entire affection to Bianca;
And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness, I will with you, if you be so contented, Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
HORTENSIO. See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio, Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow Never to woo her more, but do forswear her, As one unworthy all the former favours That I have fondly flatterβd her withal.
TRANIO. And here I take the like unfeigned oath, Never to marry with her though she would entreat; Fie on her! See how beastly she doth court him!
HORTENSIO. Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
For me, that I may surely keep mine oath, I will be married to a wealtlly widow Ere three days pass, which hath as long lovβd me As I have lovβd this proud disdainful haggard.
And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love; and so I take my leave, In resolution as I swore before. Exit TRANIO. Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace As βlongeth to a loverβs blessed case!
Nay, I have taβen you napping, gentle love, And have forsworn you with Hortensio.
BIANCA. Tranio, you jest; but have you both forsworn me?
TRANIO. Mistress, we have.
LUCENTIO. Then we are rid of Licio.
TRANIO. Iβ faith, heβll have a lusty widow now, That shall be wooβd and wedded in a day.
BIANCA. God give him joy!
TRANIO. Ay, and heβll tame her.
BIANCA. He says so, Tranio.
TRANIO. Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
BIANCA. The taming-school! What, is there such a place?
TRANIO. Ay, mistress; and Petruchio is the master, That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long, To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
Enter BIONDELLO
BIONDELLO. O master, master, have watchβd so long That I am dog-weary; but at last I spied An ancient angel coming down the hill Will serve the turn.
TRANIO. What is he, Biondello?
BIONDELLO. Master, a mercatante or a pedant, I know not what; but formal in apparel, In gait and countenance surely like a father.
LUCENTIO. And what of him, Tranio?
TRANIO. If he be credulous and trust my tale, Iβll make him glad to seem Vincentio, And give assurance to Baptista Minola As if he were the right Vincentio.
Take in your love, and then let me alone.
Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA Enter a PEDANT
PEDANT. God save you, sir!
TRANIO. And you, sir; you are welcome.
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
PEDANT. Sir, at the farthest for a week or two; But then up farther, and as far as Rome; And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
TRANIO. What countryman, I pray?
PEDANT. Of Mantua.
TRANIO. Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid, And come to Padua, careless of your life!
PEDANT. My life, sir! How, I pray? For that goes hard.
TRANIO. βTis death for any one in Mantua To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stayβd at Venice; and the Duke, For private quarrel βtwixt your Duke and him, Hath publishβd and proclaimβd it openly.
βTis marvel-but that you are but newly come, You might have heard it else proclaimβd about.
PEDANT. Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so!
For I have bills for money by exchange From Florence, and must here deliver them.
TRANIO. Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this I will advise you-First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
PEDANT. Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been, Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIO. Among them know you one Vincentio?
PEDANT. I know him not, but I have heard of him, A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIO. He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say, In countβnance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO. [Aside] As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
TRANIO. To save your life in this extremity, This favour will I do you for his sake; And think it not the worst of all your fortunes That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
His name and credit shall you undertake, And in my house you shall be friendly lodgβd; Look that you take upon you as you should.
You understand me, sir. So shall you stay Till you have done your business in the city.
If this be courtβsy, sir, accept of it.
PEDANT. O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIO. Then go with me to make the matter good.
This, by the way, I let you understand: My father is here lookβd for every day To pass assurance of a dowβr in marriage βTwixt me and one Baptistaβs daughter here.
In all these circumstances Iβll instruct you.
Go with me to clothe you as becomes you. Exeunt
SCENE III.
PETRUCHIOβS house
Enter KATHERINA and GRUMIO
GRUMIO. No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
KATHERINA. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears.
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars that come unto my fatherβs door Upon entreaty have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity; But I, who never knew how to entreat, Nor never needed that I should entreat, Am starvβd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep; With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed; And that which spites me more than all these wants-He does it under name of perfect love; As who should say, if I should sleep or eat, βTwere deadly sickness or else present death.
I prithee go and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRUMIO. What say you to a neatβs foot?
KATHERINA. βTis passing good; I prithee let me have it.
GRUMIO. I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broilβd?
KATHERINA. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO. I cannot tell; I fear βtis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
KATHERINA. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIO. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHERINA. Why then the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIO. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHERINA. Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
GRUMIO. Why then the mustard without the beef.
KATHERINA. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, [Beats him]
That feedβst me with the very name of meat.
Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you That triumph thus upon my misery!
Go, get thee gone, I say.
Enter PETRUCHIO, and HORTENSIO with meat PETRUCHIO. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
HORTENSIO. Mistress, what cheer?
KATHERINA. Faith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCHIO. Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am, To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee.
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovβst it not, And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.
KATHERINA. I pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCHIO. The poorest service is repaid with thanks; And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
KATHERINA. I thank you, sir.
HORTENSIO. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
Come, Mistress Kate, Iβll bear you company.
PETRUCHIO. [Aside] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.-
Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey love, Will we return unto thy fatherβs house And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps, and golden rings, With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things, With scarfs and fans and double change of bravβry.
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavβry.
What, hast thou dinβd? The tailor stays thy leisure, To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
Enter TAILOR
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments; Lay forth the gown.
Enter HABERDASHER
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! βtis lewd and filthy; Why, βtis a cockle or a walnut-shell, A knack, a toy, a trick, a babyβs cap.
Away with it. Come, let me have a bigger.
KATHERINA. Iβll 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.
KATHERINA. Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak; And speak I will. I am no child, no babe.
Your betters have endurβd 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 sayβst true; it is a paltry cap, A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie; I love thee well in that thou likβst it not.
KATHERINA. 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 seeβt.
O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
Whatβs this? A sleeve? βTis like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down, carvβd like an appletart?
Hereβs snip and nip and cut and slish and slash, Like to a censer in a barberβs shop.
Why, what a devilβs name, tailor, callβst thou this?
HORTENSIO. [Aside] I see sheβs 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 remembβred, 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.
Iβll none of it; hence! make your best of it.
KATHERINA. I never saw a better fashionβd 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-Bravβd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant; Or I shall so bemete thee with thy yard As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livβst!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marrβd her gown.
TAILOR. Your worship is deceivβd; 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 facβd many things.
TAILOR. I have.
GRUMIO. Face not me. Thou hast bravβd many men; brave not me. I will neither be facβd nor bravβd. 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
Comments (0)