Enter Grumio.
GRUMIO.
Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so ray’d? Was ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are coming after to warm them. Now, were not I a little pot and soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire to thaw me. But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself; for, considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis
Enter Curtis.
CURTIS.
Who is that calls so coldly
GRUMIO.
A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis.
CURTIS.
Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio
GRUMIO.
O, ay! Curtis, ay; and therefore fire, fire; cast on no water.
CURTIS.
Is she so hot a shrew as she’s reported
GRUMIO.
She was, good Curtis, before this frost; but thou knowest winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tamed my old master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.
CURTIS.
Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
GRUMIO.
Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot; and so long am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain on thee to our mistress, whose hand,—she being now at hand,— thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office
CURTIS.
I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world
GRUMIO.
A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and therefore fire. Do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
CURTIS.
There’s fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
GRUMIO.
Why, ‘Jack boy! ho, boy!’ and as much news as wilt thou.
CURTIS.
Come, you are so full of cony-catching.
GRUMIO.
Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, and carpets laid, and everything in order
CURTIS.
All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.
GRUMIO.
First, know my horse is tired; my master and mistress fallen out.
CURTIS.
How
GRUMIO.
Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.
CURTIS.
Let’s ha’t, good Grumio.
GRUMIO.
Lend thine ear.
CURTIS.
Here.
GRUMIO.
Striking him.] There.
CURTIS.
This ’tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
GRUMIO.
And therefore ’tis called a sensible tale; and this cuff was but to knock at your ear and beseech listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress
CURTIS.
Both of one horse
GRUMIO.
What’s that to thee
CURTIS.
Why, a horse.
GRUMIO.
Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me, thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell, and she under her horse; thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was bemoiled; how he left her with the horse upon her; how he beat me because her horse stumbled; how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me: how he swore; how she prayed, that never prayed before; how I cried; how the horses ran away; how her bridle was burst; how I lost my crupper; with many things of worthy memory, which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienced to thy grave.
CURTIS.
By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
GRUMIO.
Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the rest; let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brush’d and their garters of an indifferent knit; let them curtsy with their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair of my master’s horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready
CURTIS.
They are.
GRUMIO.
Call them forth.
CURTIS.
Do you hear? ho! You must meet my master to countenance my mistress.
GRUMIO.
Why, she hath a face of her own.
CURTIS.
Who knows not that
GRUMIO.
Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
CURTIS.
I call them forth to credit her.
GRUMIO.
Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
Enter four or five Servants.
NATHANIEL.
Welcome home, Grumio
PHILIP.
How now, Grumio
JOSEPH.
What, Grumio
NICHOLAS.
Fellow Grumio
NATHANIEL.
How now, old lad
GRUMIO.
Welcome, you; how now, you; what, you; fellow, you; and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready, and all things neat
NATHANIEL.
All things is ready. How near is our master
GRUMIO.
E’en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not
Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.
Enter Petrucio and Katherina.
PETRUCHIO.
Where be these knaves? What! no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip
ALL SERVANTS.
Here, here, sir; here, sir.
PETRUCHIO.
Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir
You logger-headed and unpolish’d grooms
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty
Where is the foolish knave I sent before
GRUMIO.
Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
PETRUCHIO.
You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee
GRUMIO.
Nathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made
And Gabriel’s pumps were all unpink’d i’ the heel
There was no link to colour Peter’s hat
And Walter’s dagger was not come from sheathing
There was none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory
The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
PETRUCHIO.
Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
Exeunt some of the Servants.
Where is the life that late I led
Where are those—? Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
Food, food, food, food
Re-enter Servants with supper.
Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains! when
It was the friar of orders grey
As he forth walked on his way
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry
Strikes him.
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho
Where’s my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither
Exit Servant.
One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
Servant lets the ewer fall. Petruchio strikes him.
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall
KATHERINA.
Patience, I pray you; ’twas a fault unwilling.
PETRUCHIO.
A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear’d knave
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I
What’s this? Mutton
FIRST SERVANT.
Ay.
PETRUCHIO.
Who brought it
PETER.
I.
PETRUCHIO.
Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook
How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser
And serve it thus to me that love it not
Throws the meat, etc., at them.
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.
You heedless joltheads and unmanner’d slaves
What! do you grumble? I’ll be with you straight.
KATHERINA.
I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet
The meat was well, if you were so contented.
PETRUCHIO.
I tell thee, Kate, ’twas burnt and dried away
And I expressly am forbid to touch it
For it engenders choler, planteth anger
And better ’twere that both of us did fast
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; tomorrow ’t shall be mended.
And for this night we’ll fast for company
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
Exeunt Petruchio, Katherina and Curtis.
NATHANIEL.
Peter, didst ever see the like
PETER.
He kills her in her own humour.
Re-enter Curtis.
GRUMIO.
Where is he
CURTIS.
In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her
And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul
Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak
And sits as one new risen from a dream.
Away, away! for he is coming hither.
Exeunt.
Re-enter Petruchio.
PETRUCHIO.
Thus have I politicly begun my reign
And ’tis my hope to end successfully.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty.
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg’d
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard
To make her come, and know her keeper’s call
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat today, nor none shall eat
Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
I’ll find about the making of the bed
And here I’ll fling the pillow, there the bolster
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets
Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
That all is done in reverend care of her
And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night
And if she chance to nod I’ll rail and brawl
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness
And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew
Now let him speak; ’tis charity to show.
Exit.
