The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (best novel books to read txt) 📕

to the Queen of Carthage was,

Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,

If I achieve not this young modest girl.

Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst:

Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

 

TRANIO.

Master, it is no time to chide you now;

Affection is not rated from the heart:

If love have touch’d you, nought remains but so:

Redime te captum quam queas minimo.

 

LUCENTIO.

Gramercies, lad; go forward; this contents;

The rest will comfort, for thy counsel’s sound.

 

TRANIO.

Master, you look’d so longly on the maid.

Perhaps you mark’d not what’s the pith of all.

 

LUCENTIO.

O, yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,

Such as the daughter of Agenor had,

That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,

When with his knees he kiss’d the Cretan strand.

 

TRANIO.

Saw you no more? mark’d you not how her sister

Began to scold and raise up such a storm

That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?

 

LUCENTIO.

Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,

And with her breath she did perfume the air;

Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.

 

TRANIO.

Nay, then, ‘tis time to stir him from his trance.

I pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid,

Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:

Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd,

That till the father rid his hands of her,

Master, your love must live a maid at home;

And therefore has he closely mew’d her up,

Because she will not be annoy’d with suitors.

 

LUCENTIO.

Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father’s he!

But art thou not advis’d he took some care

To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?

 

TRANIO.

Ay, marry, am I, sir, and now ‘tis plotted.

 

LUCENTIO.

I have it, Tranio.

 

TRANIO.

Master, for my hand,

Both our inventions meet and jump in one.

 

LUCENTIO.

Tell me thine first.

 

TRANIO.

You will be schoolmaster,

And undertake the teaching of the maid:

That’s your device.

 

LUCENTIO.

It is: may it be done?

 

TRANIO.

Not possible; for who shall bear your part

And be in Padua here Vincentio’s son;

Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends;

Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?

 

LUCENTIO.

Basta; content thee, for I have it full.

We have not yet been seen in any house,

Nor can we be distinguish’d by our faces

For man or master: then it follows thus:

Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,

Keep house and port and servants, as I should;

I will some other be; some Florentine,

Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.

‘Tis hatch’d, and shall be so: Tranio, at once

Uncase thee; take my colour’d hat and cloak.

When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;

But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.

 

[They exchange habits]

 

TRANIO.

So had you need.

In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,

And I am tied to be obedient;

For so your father charg’d me at our parting,

‘Be serviceable to my son,’ quoth he,

Although I think ‘twas in another sense:

I am content to be Lucentio,

Because so well I love Lucentio.

 

LUCENTIO.

Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves;

And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid

Whose sudden sight hath thrall’d my wounded eye.

Here comes the rogue.

 

[Enter BIONDELLO.]

 

Sirrah, where have you been?

 

BIONDELLO.

Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are you?

Master, has my fellow Tranio stol’n your clothes?

Or you stol’n his? or both? Pray, what’s the news?

 

LUCENTIO.

Sirrah, come hither: ‘tis no time to jest,

And therefore frame your manners to the time.

Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,

Puts my apparel and my count’nance on,

And I for my escape have put on his;

For in a quarrel since I came ashore

I kill’d a man, and fear I was descried.

Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,

While I make way from hence to save my life.

You understand me?

 

BIONDELLO.

I, sir! Ne’er a whit.

 

LUCENTIO.

And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:

Tranio is changed to Lucentio.

 

BIONDELLO.

The better for him: would I were so too!

 

TRANIO.

So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,

That Lucentio indeed had Baptista’s youngest daughter.

But, sirrah, not for my sake but your master’s, I advise

You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:

When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;

But in all places else your master, Lucentio.

 

LUCENTIO.

Tranio, let’s go. One thing more rests, that thyself execute,

to make one among these wooers: if thou ask me why,

sufficeth my reasons are both good and weighty.

 

[Exeunt.]

 

[The Presenters above speak.]

 

FIRST SERVANT. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.

 

SLY.

Yes, by Saint Anne, I do. A good matter, surely: comes there

any more of it?

 

PAGE. My lord, ‘tis but begun.

 

SLY. ‘Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady: would

‘twere done!

 

[They sit and mark.]

 

SCENE II. Padua. Before HORTENSIO’S house.

 

[Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO.]

 

PETRUCHIO.

Verona, for a while I take my leave,

To see my friends in Padua; but of all

My best beloved and approved friend,

Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.

Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.

 

GRUMIO.

Knock, sir! Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused

your worship?

 

PETRUCHIO.

Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

 

GRUMIO.

Knock you here, sir! Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I

should knock you here, sir?

 

PETRUCHIO.

Villain, I say, knock me at this gate;

And rap me well, or I’ll knock your knave’s pate.

 

GRUMIO.

My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,

And then I know after who comes by the worst.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Will it not be?

Faith, sirrah, an you’ll not knock, I’ll ring it;

I’ll try how you can sol,fa, and sing it.

 

[He wrings GRUMIO by the ears.]

 

GRUMIO.

Help, masters, help! my master is mad.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Now, knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!

 

[Enter HORTENSIO.]

 

HORTENSIO.

How now! what’s the matter? My old friend Grumio! and my

good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?

 

PETRUCHIO.

Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?

Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.

 

HORTENSIO.

Alla nostra casa ben venuto; molto honorato signor mio Petruchio.

Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel.

 

GRUMIO.

Nay, ‘tis no matter, sir, what he ‘leges in Latin. If this

be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look you, sir,

he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir: well, was it fit for

a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught I see,

two-and-thirty, a pip out?

Whom would to God I had well knock’d at first,

Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

 

PETRUCHIO.

A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,

I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,

And could not get him for my heart to do it.

 

GRUMIO.

Knock at the gate! O heavens! Spake you not these words

plain: ‘Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and

knock me soundly’? And come you now with ‘knocking at the gate’?

 

PETRUCHIO.

Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

 

HORTENSIO.

Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio’s pledge;

Why, this’s a heavy chance ‘twixt him and you,

Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.

And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale

Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

 

PETRUCHIO.

Such wind as scatters young men through the world

To seek their fortunes farther than at home,

Where small experience grows. But in a few,

Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:

Antonio, my father, is deceas’d,

And I have thrust myself into this maze,

Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;

Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,

And so am come abroad to see the world.

 

HORTENSIO.

Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee

And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour’d wife?

Thou’dst thank me but a little for my counsel;

And yet I’ll promise thee she shall be rich,

And very rich: but th’art too much my friend,

And I’ll not wish thee to her.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Signior Hortensio, ‘twixt such friends as we

Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know

One rich enough to be Petruchio’s wife,

As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,

Be she as foul as was Florentius’ love,

As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd

As Socrates’ Xanthippe or a worse,

She moves me not, or not removes, at least,

Affection’s edge in me, were she as rough

As are the swelling Adriatic seas:

I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;

If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

 

GRUMIO.

Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is: why,

give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an

aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne’er a tooth in her head, though

she has as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses: why, nothing

comes amiss, so money comes withal.

 

HORTENSIO.

Petruchio, since we are stepp’d thus far in,

I will continue that I broach’d in jest.

I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife

With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;

Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman:

Her only fault,—and that is faults enough,—

Is, that she is intolerable curst

And shrewd and froward, so beyond all measure,

That, were my state far worser than it is,

I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

 

PETRUCHIO.

Hortensio, peace! thou know’st not gold’s effect:

Tell me her father’s name, and ‘tis enough;

For I will board her, though she chide as loud

As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.

 

HORTENSIO.

Her father is Baptista Minola,

An affable and courteous gentleman;

Her name is Katherina Minola,

Renown’d in Padua for her scolding tongue.

 

PETRUCHIO.

I know her father, though I know not her;

And he knew my deceased father well.

I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;

And therefore let me be thus bold with you,

To give you over at this first encounter,

Unless you will accompany me thither.

 

GRUMIO.

I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O’ my

word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding

would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a

score knaves or so; why, that’s nothing; and he begin once, he’ll

rail in his rope-tricks. I’ll tell you what, sir, an she stand him

but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so disfigure

her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a

cat. You know him not, sir.

 

HORTENSIO.

Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,

For in Baptista’s keep my treasure is:

He hath the jewel of my life in hold,

His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,

And her withholds from me and other more,

Suitors to her and rivals in my love;

Supposing it a thing impossible,

For those defects I have before rehears’d,

That ever Katherina will be woo’d:

Therefore this order hath Baptista ta’en,

That none shall have access unto Bianca

Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.

 

GRUMIO.

Katherine the curst!

A title for a maid of all titles the worst.