SCENE III. A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
Enter KATHARINA and GRUMIO
GRUMIO
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
KATHARINA
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty have a present aims;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
With oath 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,
'Twere 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 neat's foot?
KATHARINA
'Tis 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 broil'd?
KATHARINA
I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO
I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
KATHARINA
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIO
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHARINA
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.
KATHARINA
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
GRUMIO
Why then, the mustard without the beef.
KATHARINA
Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
Beats him
That feed'st 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?
KATHARINA
Faith, as cold as can be.
PETRUCHIO
Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
Here love; thou see'st 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 lovest it not;
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.
KATHARINA
I pray you, let it stand.
PETRUCHIO
The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
KATHARINA
I thank you, sir.
HORTENSIO
Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
Come, mistress Kate, I'll 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 father's house
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs and cuffs and fardingales and things;
With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery.
What, hast thou dined? 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! '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
0 Comments