diff --git "a/test.csv" "b/test.csv" new file mode 100644--- /dev/null +++ "b/test.csv" @@ -0,0 +1,4904 @@ +Text +"TRANIO: +Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part! + +PETRUCHIO: +Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself: +If she and I be pleased, what's that to you? +'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone, +That she shall still be curst in company. +I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe +How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate! +She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss +She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath, +That in a twink she won me to her love. +O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see, +How tame, when men and women are alone, +A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew. +Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice, +To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day. +Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests; +I will be sure my Katharina shall be fine. + +BAPTISTA: +I know not what to say: but give me your hands; +God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match. + +GREMIO: +Amen, say we: we will be witnesses. + +PETRUCHIO: +Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu; +I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace: +We will have rings and things and fine array; +And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday. + +GREMIO: +Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly? + +BAPTISTA: +Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part, +And venture madly on a desperate mart. + +TRANIO: +'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: +'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas. + +BAPTISTA: +The gain I seek is, quiet in the match. + +GREMIO: +No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch. +But now, Baptists, to your younger daughter: +Now is the day we long have looked for: +I am your neighbour, and was suitor first. + +TRANIO: +And I am one that love Bianca more +Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess. + +GREMIO: +Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I. + +TRANIO: +Graybeard, thy love doth freeze. + +GREMIO: +But thine doth fry. +Skipper, stand back: 'tis age that nourisheth. + +TRANIO: +But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth. + +BAPTISTA: +Content you, gentlemen: I will compound this strife: +'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he of both +That can assure my daughter greatest dower +Shall have my Bianca's love. +Say, Signior Gremio, What can you assure her? + +GREMIO: +First, as you know, my house within the city +Is richly furnished with plate and gold; +Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands; +My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry; +In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns; +In cypress chests my arras counterpoints, +Costly apparel, tents, and canopies, +Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl, +Valance of Venice gold in needlework, +Pewter and brass and all things that belong +To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm +I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail, +Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls, +And all things answerable to this portion. +Myself am struck in years, I must confess; +And if I die to-morrow, this is hers, +If whilst I live she will be only mine. + +TRANIO: +That 'only' came well in." +"Sir, list to me: +I am my father's heir and only son: +If I may have your daughter to my wife, +I'll leave her houses three or four as good, +Within rich Pisa walls, as any one +Old Signior Gremio has in Padua; +Sir, list to me: +I am my father's heir and only son: +If I may have your daughter to my wife, +I'll leave her houses three or four as good, +Within rich Pisa walls, as any one +Besides two thousand ducats by the year +Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure. +What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio? + +GREMIO: +Two thousand ducats by the year of land! +My land amounts not to so much in all: +That she shall have; besides an argosy +That now is lying in Marseilles' road. +What, have I choked you with an argosy? + +TRANIO: +Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less +Than three great argosies; besides two galliases, +And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her, +And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next. + +GREMIO: +Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more; +And she can have no more than all I have: +If you like me, she shall have me and mine. + +TRANIO: +Why, then the maid is mine from all the world, +By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied. + +BAPTISTA: +I must confess your offer is the best; +And, let your father make her the assurance, +She is your own; else, you must pardon me, +if you should die before him, where's her dower? + +TRANIO: +That's but a cavil: he is old, I young. + +GREMIO: +And may not young men die, as well as old? + +BAPTISTA: +Well, gentlemen, +I am thus resolved: on Sunday next you know +My daughter Katharina is to be married: +Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca +Be bride to you, if you this assurance; +If not, Signior Gremio: +And so, I take my leave, and thank you both. + +GREMIO: +Adieu, good neighbour. +Now I fear thee not: +Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool +To give thee all, and in his waning age +Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy! +An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. + +TRANIO: +A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide! +Yet I have faced it with a card of ten. +'Tis in my head to do my master good: +I see no reason but supposed Lucentio +Must get a father, call'd 'supposed Vincentio;' +And that's a wonder: fathers commonly +Do get their children; but in this case of wooing, +A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning. + +LUCENTIO: +Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir: +Have you so soon forgot the entertainment +Her sister Katharina welcomed you withal? + +HORTENSIO: +But, wrangling pedant, this is +The patroness of heavenly harmony: +Then give me leave to have prerogative; +And when in music we have spent an hour, +Your lecture shall have leisure for as much. + +LUCENTIO: +Preposterous ass, that never read so far +To know the cause why music was ordain'd! +Was it not to refresh the mind of man +After his studies or his usual pain? +Then give me leave to read philosophy, +And while I pause, serve in your harmony. + +HORTENSIO: +Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine. + +BIANCA: +Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, +To strive for that which resteth in my choice: +I am no breeching scholar in the schools; +I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times, +But learn my lessons as I please myself." +"And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down: +Take you your instrument, play you the whiles; +His lecture will be done ere you have tuned. + +HORTENSIO: +You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune? + +LUCENTIO: +That will be never: tune your instrument. + +BIANCA: +Where left we last? + +LUCENTIO: +Here, madam: +'Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus; +Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.' + +BIANCA: +Construe them. + +LUCENTIO: +'Hic ibat,' as I told you before, 'Simois,' I am +Lucentio, 'hic est,' son unto Vincentio of Pisa, +'Sigeia tellus,' disguised thus to get your love; +'Hic steterat,' and that Lucentio that comes +a-wooing, 'Priami,' is my man Tranio, 'regia,' +bearing my port, 'celsa senis,' that we might +beguile the old pantaloon. + +HORTENSIO: +Madam, my instrument's in tune. + +BIANCA: +Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars. + +LUCENTIO: +Spit in the hole, man, and tune again. + +BIANCA: +Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat +Simois,' I know you not, 'hic est Sigeia tellus,' I +trust you not; 'Hic steterat Priami,' take heed +he hear us not, 'regia,' presume not, 'celsa senis,' +despair not. + +HORTENSIO: +Madam, 'tis now in tune. + +LUCENTIO: +All but the base. + +HORTENSIO: +The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars. +How fiery and forward our pedant is! +Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love: +Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet. + +BIANCA: +In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. + +LUCENTIO: +Mistrust it not: for, sure, AEacides +Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather. + +BIANCA: +I must believe my master; else, I promise you, +I should be arguing still upon that doubt: +But let it rest." +"Now, Licio, to you: +Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, +That I have been thus pleasant with you both. + +HORTENSIO: +You may go walk, and give me leave a while: +My lessons make no music in three parts. + +LUCENTIO: +Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait, +And watch withal; for, but I be deceived, +Our fine musician groweth amorous. + +HORTENSIO: +Madam, before you touch the instrument, +To learn the order of my fingering, +I must begin with rudiments of art; +To teach you gamut in a briefer sort, +More pleasant, pithy and effectual, +Than hath been taught by any of my trade: +And there it is in writing, fairly drawn. + +BIANCA: +Why, I am past my gamut long ago. + +HORTENSIO: +Yet read the gamut of Hortensio. + +BIANCA: + +Servant: +Mistress, your father prays you leave your books +And help to dress your sister's chamber up: +You know to-morrow is the wedding-day. + +BIANCA: +Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone. + +LUCENTIO: +Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. + +HORTENSIO: +But I have cause to pry into this pedant: +Methinks he looks as though he were in love: +Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble +To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale, +Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging, +Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. +Now, Licio, to you: +Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray, +That I have been thus pleasant with you both. + +HORTENSIO: +You may go walk, and give me leave a while: +My lessons make no music in three parts. + +LUCENTIO: +Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait, +And watch withal; for, but I be deceived, +Our fine musician groweth amorous. + +HORTENSIO: +Madam, before you touch the instrument, +To learn the order of my fingering, +I must begin with rudiments of art; +To teach you gamut in a briefer sort, +More pleasant, pithy and effectual, +Than hath been taught by any of my trade: +And there it is in writing, fairly drawn. + +BIANCA: +Why, I am past my gamut long ago. + +HORTENSIO: +Yet read the gamut of Hortensio. + +BIANCA: + +Servant: +Mistress, your father prays you leave your books +And help to dress your sister's chamber up: +You know to-morrow is the wedding-day. + +BIANCA: +Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone. + +LUCENTIO: +Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. + +HORTENSIO: +But I have cause to pry into this pedant: +Methinks he looks as though he were in love: +Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble +To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale, +Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging, + +BAPTISTA: + +KATHARINA: +No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forced +To give my hand opposed against my heart +Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen; +Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure. +I told you, I, he was a frantic fool, +Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior: +And, to be noted for a merry man, +He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage, +Make feasts, invite friends, and proclaim the banns; +Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd. +Now must the world point at poor Katharina, +And say, 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife, +If it would please him come and marry her!'" +"TRANIO: +Patience, good Katharina, and Baptista too. +Upon my life, Petruchio means but well, +Whatever fortune stays him from his word: +Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise; +Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest. + +KATHARINA: +Would Katharina had never seen him though! + +BAPTISTA: +Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; +For such an injury would vex a very saint, +Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour. + +BIONDELLO: +Master, master! news, old news, and such news as +you never heard of! + +BAPTISTA: +Is it new and old too? how may that be? + +BIONDELLO: +Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming? + +BAPTISTA: +Is he come? + +BIONDELLO: +Why, no, sir. + +BAPTISTA: +What then? + +BIONDELLO: +He is coming. + +BAPTISTA: +When will he be here? + +BIONDELLO: +When he stands where I am and sees you there. + +TRANIO: +But say, what to thine old news? + +BIONDELLO: +Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old +jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair +of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, +another laced, an old rusty sword ta'en out of the +town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; +with two broken points: his horse hipped with an +old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred; +besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose +in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected +with the fashions, full of wingdalls, sped with +spavins, rayed with yellows, past cure of the fives, +stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the +bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten; +near-legged before and with, a half-chequed bit +and a head-stall of sheeps leather which, being +restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been +often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth +six time pieced and a woman's crupper of velure, +which hath two letters for her name fairly set down +in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread. + +BAPTISTA: +Who comes with him? + +BIONDELLO: +O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned +like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a +kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red +and blue list; an old hat and 'the humour of forty +fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a +very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian +footboy or a gentleman's lackey. + +TRANIO: +'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion; +Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd. + +BAPTISTA: +I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes. + +BIONDELLO: +Why, sir, he comes not. + +BAPTISTA: +Didst thou not say he comes? + +BIONDELLO: +Who? that Petruchio came? + +BAPTISTA: +Ay, that Petruchio came. + +BIONDELLO: +No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back. + +BAPTISTA: +Why, that's all one. + +BIONDELLO: +Nay, by Saint Jamy, +I hold you a penny, +A horse and a man +Is more than one, +And yet not many. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come, where be these gallants? who's at home? + +BAPTISTA: +You are welcome, sir. + +PETRUCHIO:" +"And yet I come not well. + +BAPTISTA: +And yet you halt not. + +TRANIO: +Not so well apparell'd +As I wish you were. + +PETRUCHIO: +Were it better, I should rush in thus. +But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride? +How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown: +And wherefore gaze this goodly company, +As if they saw some wondrous monument, +Some comet or unusual prodigy? + +BAPTISTA: +Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day: +First were we sad, fearing you would not come; +Now sadder, that you come so unprovided. +Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate, +An eye-sore to our solemn festival! + +TRANIO: +And tells us, what occasion of import +Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, +And sent you hither so unlike yourself? + +PETRUCHIO: +Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear: +Sufficeth I am come to keep my word, +Though in some part enforced to digress; +Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse +As you shall well be satisfied withal. +But where is Kate? I stay too long from her: +The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church. + +TRANIO: +See not your bride in these unreverent robes: +Go to my chamber; Put on clothes of mine. + +PETRUCHIO: +Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her. + +BAPTISTA: +But thus, I trust, you will not marry her. + +PETRUCHIO: +Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words: +To me she's married, not unto my clothes: +Could I repair what she will wear in me, +As I can change these poor accoutrements, +'Twere well for Kate and better for myself. +But what a fool am I to chat with you, +When I should bid good morrow to my bride, +And seal the title with a lovely kiss! + +TRANIO: +He hath some meaning in his mad attire: +We will persuade him, be it possible, +To put on better ere he go to church. + +BAPTISTA: +I'll after him, and see the event of this. + +TRANIO: +But to her love concerneth us to add +Her father's liking: which to bring to pass, +As I before unparted to your worship, +I am to get a man,--whate'er he be, +It skills not much." +"we'll fit him to our turn,-- +And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa; +And make assurance here in Padua +Of greater sums than I have promised. +So shall you quietly enjoy your hope, +And marry sweet Bianca with consent. + +LUCENTIO: +Were it not that my fellow-school-master +Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, +'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage; +Which once perform'd, let all the world say no, +I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world. + +TRANIO: +That by degrees we mean to look into, +And watch our vantage in this business: +We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio, +The narrow-prying father, Minola, +The quaint musician, amorous Licio; +All for my master's sake, Lucentio. +Signior Gremio, came you from the church? + +GREMIO: +As willingly as e'er I came from school. + +TRANIO: +And is the bride and bridegroom coming home? + +GREMIO: +A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed, +A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find. + +TRANIO: +Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible. + +GREMIO: +Why he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend. + +TRANIO: +Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. + +GREMIO: +Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him! +we'll fit him to our turn,-- +And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa; +And make assurance here in Padua +Of greater sums than I have promised. +So shall you quietly enjoy your hope, +And marry sweet Bianca with consent. + +LUCENTIO: +Were it not that my fellow-school-master +Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, +'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage; +Which once perform'd, let all the world say no, +I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world. + +TRANIO: +That by degrees we mean to look into, +And watch our vantage in this business: +We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio, +The narrow-prying father, Minola, +The quaint musician, amorous Licio; +All for my master's sake, Lucentio. +Signior Gremio, came you from the church? + +GREMIO: +As willingly as e'er I came from school. + +TRANIO: +And is the bride and bridegroom coming home? + +GREMIO: +A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed, +A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find. + +TRANIO: +Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible. + +GREMIO: +Why he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend. + +TRANIO: +Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. + +GREMIO: +I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest +Should ask, if Katharina should be his wife, +'Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he; and swore so loud, +That, all-amazed, the priest let fall the book; +And, as he stoop'd again to take it up, +The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff +That down fell priest and book and book and priest: +'Now take them up,' quoth he, 'if any list.' + +TRANIO: +What said the wench when he rose again? + +GREMIO: +Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd and swore, +As if the vicar meant to cozen him. +But after many ceremonies done, +He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if +He had been aboard, carousing to his mates +After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel +And threw the sops all in the sexton's face; +Having no other reason" +"But that his beard grew thin and hungerly +And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking. +This done, he took the bride about the neck +And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack +That at the parting all the church did echo: +And I seeing this came thence for very shame; +And after me, I know, the rout is coming. +Such a mad marriage never was before: +Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play. + +PETRUCHIO: +Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains: +I know you think to dine with me to-day, +And have prepared great store of wedding cheer; +But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, +And therefore here I mean to take my leave. + +BAPTISTA: +Is't possible you will away to-night? + +PETRUCHIO: +I must away to-day, before night come: +Make it no wonder; if you knew my business, +You would entreat me rather go than stay. +And, honest company, I thank you all, +That have beheld me give away myself +To this most patient, sweet and virtuous wife: +Dine with my father, drink a health to me; +For I must hence; and farewell to you all. + +TRANIO: +Let us entreat you stay till after dinner. + +PETRUCHIO: +It may not be. + +GREMIO: +Let me entreat you. + +PETRUCHIO: +It cannot be. + +KATHARINA: +Let me entreat you. + +PETRUCHIO: +I am content. + +KATHARINA: +Are you content to stay? + +PETRUCHIO: +I am content you shall entreat me stay; +But yet not stay, entreat me how you can. + +KATHARINA: +Now, if you love me, stay. + +PETRUCHIO: +Grumio, my horse. + +GRUMIO: +Ay, sir, they be ready: the oats have eaten the horses. + +KATHARINA: +Nay, then, +Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day; +No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself. +The door is open, sir; there lies your way; +You may be jogging whiles your boots are green; +For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself: +'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom, +That take it on you at the first so roundly. + +PETRUCHIO: +O Kate, content thee; prithee, be not angry. + +KATHARINA: +I will be angry: what hast thou to do? +Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure. + +GREMIO: +Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work. + +KATARINA: +Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner: +I see a woman may be made a fool, +If she had not a spirit to resist. + +PETRUCHIO: +They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command. +Obey the bride, you that attend on her; +Go to the feast, revel and domineer, +Carouse full measure to her maidenhead, +Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves: +But for my bonny Kate, she must with me. +Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret; +I will be master of what is mine own: +She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, +My household stuff, my field, my barn, +My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing; +And here she stands, touch her whoever dare; +I'll bring mine action on the proudest he +That stops my way in Padua." +"Grumio, +Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves; +Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man. +Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch +thee, Kate: +I'll buckler thee against a million. + +BAPTISTA: +Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. + +GREMIO: +Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing. +Grumio, +Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves; +Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man. +Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch +thee, Kate: +I'll buckler thee against a million. + +BAPTISTA: +Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. + +GREMIO: + +TRANIO: +Of all mad matches never was the like. + +LUCENTIO: +Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister? + +BIANCA: +That, being mad herself, she's madly mated. + +GREMIO: +I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated. + +BAPTISTA: +Neighbours and friends, though bride and +bridegroom wants +For to supply the places at the table, +You know there wants no junkets at the feast. +Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place: +And let Bianca take her sister's room. + +TRANIO: +Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it? + +BAPTISTA: +She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go. + +GRUMIO: +Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and +all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever +man so rayed? 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. + +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 +will thaw. + +CURTIS: +Come, you are so full of cony-catching! + +GRUMIO: +Why, therefore fire; for I have caught extreme cold. +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 +will thaw. + +CURTIS: +Come, you are so full of cony-catching! + +GRUMIO: +Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house +trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept; the +serving-men in their new fustian, their white +stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? +Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without, +the carpets laid, and every thing 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: +There. + +CURTIS: +This is 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 brushed and their +But what talk I of this? +Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, +Walter, Sugarsop and the rest: let their heads be +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. + +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. + +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 SERVING-MEN: +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 were 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. +Where is the life that late I led-- +Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.-- +Sound, sound, sound, sound! +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: +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: +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. +You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? + +KATHARINA: +Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling. +Some water, here; what, ho! +Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence, +And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither: +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. +You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? + +KATHARINA: + +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? +Theretake it to you, trenchers, cups, and all; +You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves! +What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight. + +KATHARINA: +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; to-morrow 't shall be mended, +And, for this night, we'll fast for company: +Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. + +NATHANIEL: +Peter, didst ever see the like? + +PETER: +He kills her in her own humour. + +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. + +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-gorged, +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 to-day, nor none shall eat; +Last night she slept not, nor to-night 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. + +TRANIO: +Is't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca +Doth fancy any other but Lucentio? +I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand. + +HORTENSIO: +Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said, +Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching. + +LUCENTIO: +Now, mistress, profit you in what you read? + +BIANCA: +What, master, read you? first resolve me that. + +LUCENTIO: +I read that I profess, the Art to Love. + +BIANCA: +And may you prove, sir, master of your art! + +LUCENTIO: +While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart! + +HORTENSIO: +Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I pray, +You that durst swear at your mistress Bianca +Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio. + +TRANIO: +O despiteful love! unconstant womankind! +I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful. + +HORTENSIO: +Mistake no more: I am not Licio, +Nor a musician, as I seem to be; +But one that scorn to live in this disguise, +For such a one as leaves a gentleman, +And makes a god of such a cullion: +Know, sir, that I am call'd 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 no more, but do forswear her, +As one unworthy all the former favours +That I have fondly flatter'd her withal. + +TRANIO: +And here I take the 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 wealthy widow, +Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me +As I have loved 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. + +TRANIO: +Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace +As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case! +Nay, I have ta'en 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: +I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now, +That shall be wood and wedded in a day. + +BIANCA: +God give him joy! + +TRANIO: +Ay, and he'll 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. + +BIONDELLO: +O master, master, I have watch'd 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 format 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, +I'll 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. + +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 for 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: +'Tis death for any one in Mantua +To come to Padua." +"Know you not the cause? +Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the duke, +For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him, +Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly: +'Tis, marvel, but that you are but newly come, +You might have heard it else proclaim'd 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 countenance somewhat doth resemble you. + +BIONDELLO: + +TRANIO: +To save your life in this extremity, +This favour will I do you for his sake; +And think it not the worst of an your fortunes +That you are like to Sir Vincentio. +His name and credit shall you undertake, +And in my house you shall be friendly lodged: +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 courtesy, 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 look'd for every day, +To pass assurance of a dower in marriage +'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here: +In all these circumstances I'll instruct you: +Go with me to clothe you as becomes you. + +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." +"Know you not the cause? +Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the duke, +For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him, +Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly: +'Tis, marvel, but that you are but newly come, +You might have heard it else proclaim'd 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 countenance somewhat doth resemble you. + +BIONDELLO: + +TRANIO: +To save your life in this extremity, +This favour will I do you for his sake; +And think it not the worst of an your fortunes +That you are like to Sir Vincentio. +His name and credit shall you undertake, +And in my house you shall be friendly lodged: +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 courtesy, 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 look'd for every day, +To pass assurance of a dower in marriage +'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here: +In all these circumstances I'll instruct you: +Go with me to clothe you as becomes you. + +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, +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," +"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. + +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: + +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: + +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. + +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: + +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: + +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: + +GRUMIO: +I confess the cape. + +Tailor: + +GRUMIO: +I confess two sleeves. + +Tailor: + +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: + +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. + +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?" +"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: + +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: + +GRUMIO: +I confess the cape. + +Tailor: + +GRUMIO: +I confess two sleeves. + +Tailor: + +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: + +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. + +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, +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: + +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, +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: + +TRANIO: +Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call? + +Pedant: +Ay, what else? and but I be deceived +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. +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. +Signior Baptista, you are happily met. +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: +Your son shall have my daughter with consent. + +TRANIO: +I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best +We be affied and such assurance ta'en +As shall with either part's agreement stand? + +BAPTISTA: +Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know, +Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants: +Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still; +And happily we might be interrupted. + +TRANIO: +Then at my lodging, an it like you: +There doth my father lie; and there, this night, +We'll pass the business privately and well. +Send for your daughter by your servant here: +My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently. +The worst is this, that, at so slender warning, +You are like to have a thin and slender pittance. + +BAPTISTA: +It likes me well." +"Biondello, hie you home, +And bid Bianca make her ready straight; +And, if you will, tell what hath happened, +Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua, +And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. +BIONDELLO: +Biondello, hie you home, +And bid Bianca make her ready straight; +And, if you will, tell what hath happened, +Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua, +And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. +I pray the gods she may with all my heart! + +TRANIO: +Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone. +Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way? +Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer: +Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa. + +BAPTISTA: +I follow you. + +BIONDELLO: +Cambio! + +LUCENTIO: +What sayest thou, Biondello? + +BIONDELLO: +You saw my master wink and laugh upon you? + +LUCENTIO: +Biondello, what of that? + +BIONDELLO: +Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to +expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens. + +LUCENTIO: +I pray thee, moralize them. + +BIONDELLO: +Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the +deceiving father of a deceitful son. + +LUCENTIO: +And what of him? + +BIONDELLO: +His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper. + +LUCENTIO: +And then? + +BIONDELLO: +The old priest of Saint Luke's church is at your +command at all hours. + +LUCENTIO: +And what of all this? + +BIONDELLO: +I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a +counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her, +'cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum:' to the +church; take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient +honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for, +I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewell for +ever and a day. + +LUCENTIO: +Hearest thou, Biondello? + +BIONDELLO: +I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an +afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to +stuff a rabbit; and so may you, sir: and so, adieu, +sir." +"My master hath appointed me to go to Saint +Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against +you come with your appendix. + +LUCENTIO: +I may, and will, if she be so contented: +She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt? +Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: +It shall go hard if Cambio go without her. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's. +Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon! + +KATHARINA: +The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now. + +PETRUCHIO: +I say it is the moon that shines so bright. + +KATHARINA: +I know it is the sun that shines so bright. + +PETRUCHIO: +Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself, +It shall be moon, or star, or what I list, +Or ere I journey to your father's house. +Go on, and fetch our horses back again. +Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd! + +HORTENSIO: +Say as he says, or we shall never go. + +KATHARINA: +Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, +And be it moon, or sun, or what you please: +An if you please to call it a rush-candle, +Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me. + +PETRUCHIO: +I say it is the moon. + +KATHARINA: +I know it is the moon. +PETRUCHIO: +My master hath appointed me to go to Saint +Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against +you come with your appendix. + +LUCENTIO: +I may, and will, if she be so contented: +She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt? +Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: +It shall go hard if Cambio go without her. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's. +Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon! + +KATHARINA: +The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now. + +PETRUCHIO: +I say it is the moon that shines so bright. + +KATHARINA: +I know it is the sun that shines so bright. + +PETRUCHIO: +Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself, +It shall be moon, or star, or what I list, +Or ere I journey to your father's house. +Go on, and fetch our horses back again. +Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd! + +HORTENSIO: +Say as he says, or we shall never go. + +KATHARINA: +Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, +And be it moon, or sun, or what you please: +An if you please to call it a rush-candle, +Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me. + +PETRUCHIO: +I say it is the moon. + +KATHARINA: +I know it is the moon. +Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun. + +KATHARINA: +Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun: +But sun it is not, when you say it is not; +And the moon changes even as your mind. +What you will have it named, even that it is; +And so it shall be so for Katharina. + +HORTENSIO: +Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won. + +PETRUCHIO: +Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run, +And not unluckily against the bias. +But, soft! company is coming here. +Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away? +Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, +Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? +Such war of white and red within her cheeks! +What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty," +"As those two eyes become that heavenly face? +Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee. +Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake. + +HORTENSIO: +A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him. + +KATHARINA: +Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet, +Whither away, or where is thy abode? +Happy the parents of so fair a child; +Happier the man, whom favourable stars +Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow! + +PETRUCHIO: +Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad: +This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd, +And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is. + +KATHARINA: +Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes, +That have been so bedazzled with the sun +That everything I look on seemeth green: +Now I perceive thou art a reverend father; +Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking. + +PETRUCHIO: +Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known +Which way thou travellest: if along with us, +We shall be joyful of thy company. + +VINCENTIO: +Fair sir, and you my merry mistress, +That with your strange encounter much amazed me, +My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa; +And bound I am to Padua; there to visit +A son of mine, which long I have not seen. + +PETRUCHIO: +What is his name? + +VINCENTIO: +Lucentio, gentle sir. + +PETRUCHIO: +Happily we met; the happier for thy son. +And now by law, as well as reverend age, +I may entitle thee my loving father: +The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman, +Thy son by this hath married." +"Wonder not, +Nor be grieved: she is of good esteem, +Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth; +Beside, so qualified as may beseem +The spouse of any noble gentleman. +Let me embrace with old Vincentio, +And wander we to see thy honest son, +Who will of thy arrival be full joyous. + +VINCENTIO: +But is it true? or else is it your pleasure, +Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest +Upon the company you overtake? + +HORTENSIO: +I do assure thee, father, so it is. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come, go along, and see the truth hereof; +For our first merriment hath made thee jealous. + +HORTENSIO: +Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart. +Have to my widow! and if she be froward, +Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward. + +BIONDELLO: +Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready. + +LUCENTIO: +I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee +at home; therefore leave us. + +BIONDELLO: +Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and +then come back to my master's as soon as I can. + +GREMIO: +I marvel Cambio comes not all this while. + +PETRUCHIO: +Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house: +My father's bears more toward the market-place; +Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir. + +VINCENTIO: +You shall not choose but drink before you go: +I think I shall command your welcome here, +And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward. + +GREMIO: +They're busy within; you were best knock louder. + +Pedant: +What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate? + +VINCENTIO: +Is Signior Lucentio within, sir? + +Pedant: +He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal. + +VINCENTIO: +What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to +make merry withal? +Pedant:" +"Wonder not, +Nor be grieved: she is of good esteem, +Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth; +Beside, so qualified as may beseem +The spouse of any noble gentleman. +Let me embrace with old Vincentio, +And wander we to see thy honest son, +Who will of thy arrival be full joyous. + +VINCENTIO: +But is it true? or else is it your pleasure, +Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest +Upon the company you overtake? + +HORTENSIO: +I do assure thee, father, so it is. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come, go along, and see the truth hereof; +For our first merriment hath made thee jealous. + +HORTENSIO: +Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart. +Have to my widow! and if she be froward, +Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward. + +BIONDELLO: +Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready. + +LUCENTIO: +I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee +at home; therefore leave us. + +BIONDELLO: +Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and +then come back to my master's as soon as I can. + +GREMIO: +I marvel Cambio comes not all this while. + +PETRUCHIO: +Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house: +My father's bears more toward the market-place; +Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir. + +VINCENTIO: +You shall not choose but drink before you go: +I think I shall command your welcome here, +And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward. + +GREMIO: +They're busy within; you were best knock louder. + +Pedant: +What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate? + +VINCENTIO: +Is Signior Lucentio within, sir? + +Pedant: +He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal. + +VINCENTIO: +What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to +make merry withal? +Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall +need none, so long as I live. + +PETRUCHIO: +Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. +Do you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances, +I pray you, tell Signior Lucentio that his father is +come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him. + +Pedant: +Thou liest: his father is come from Padua and here +looking out at the window. + +VINCENTIO: +Art thou his father? + +Pedant: +Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her. + +PETRUCHIO: + +Pedant: +Lay hands on the villain: I believe a' means to +cozen somebody in this city under my countenance. + +BIONDELLO: +I have seen them in the church together: God send +'em good shipping! But who is here? mine old +master Vincentio! now we are undone and brought to nothing. + +VINCENTIO: + +BIONDELLO: +Hope I may choose, sir. + +VINCENTIO: +Come hither, you rogue." +"What, have you forgot me? + +BIONDELLO: +Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for I +never saw you before in all my life. + +VINCENTIO: +What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see +thy master's father, Vincentio? + +BIONDELLO: +What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir: +see where he looks out of the window. + +VINCENTIO: +Is't so, indeed. + +BIONDELLO: +Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me. + +Pedant: +Help, son! help, Signior Baptista! + +PETRUCHIO: +Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of +What, have you forgot me? + +BIONDELLO: +Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for I +never saw you before in all my life. + +VINCENTIO: +What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see +thy master's father, Vincentio? + +BIONDELLO: +What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir: +see where he looks out of the window. + +VINCENTIO: +Is't so, indeed. + +BIONDELLO: +Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me. + +Pedant: +Help, son! help, Signior Baptista! + +PETRUCHIO: +this controversy. + +TRANIO: +Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant? + +VINCENTIO: +What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal +gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet +hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat! O, I +am undone! I am undone! while I play the good +husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at +the university. + +TRANIO: +How now! what's the matter? + +BAPTISTA: +What, is the man lunatic? + +TRANIO: +Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your +habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir, +what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I +thank my good father, I am able to maintain it. + +VINCENTIO: +Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo. + +BAPTISTA: +You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray, what do +you think is his name? + +VINCENTIO: +His name! as if I knew not his name: I have brought +him up ever since he was three years old, and his +name is Tranio. + +Pedant: +Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio and he is +mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vincentio. + +VINCENTIO: +Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold +on him, I charge you, in the duke's name. O, my +son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio? + +TRANIO: +Call forth an officer. +Carry this mad knave to the gaol." +"Father Baptista, +I charge you see that he be forthcoming. + +VINCENTIO: +Carry me to the gaol! + +GREMIO: +Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison. + +BAPTISTA: +Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to prison. + +GREMIO: +Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be +cony-catched in this business: I dare swear this +is the right Vincentio. + +Pedant: +Swear, if thou darest. + +GREMIO: +Nay, I dare not swear it. + +TRANIO: +Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio. + +GREMIO: +Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio. +BAPTISTA: +Father Baptista, +I charge you see that he be forthcoming. + +VINCENTIO: +Carry me to the gaol! + +GREMIO: +Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison. + +BAPTISTA: +Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to prison. + +GREMIO: +Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be +cony-catched in this business: I dare swear this +is the right Vincentio. + +Pedant: +Swear, if thou darest. + +GREMIO: +Nay, I dare not swear it. + +TRANIO: +Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio. + +GREMIO: +Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio. +Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him! + +VINCENTIO: +Thus strangers may be hailed and abused: O +monstrous villain! + +BIONDELLO: +O! we are spoiled and--yonder he is: deny him, +forswear him, or else we are all undone. + +LUCENTIO: + +VINCENTIO: +Lives my sweet son? + +BIANCA: +Pardon, dear father. + +BAPTISTA: +How hast thou offended? +Where is Lucentio? + +LUCENTIO: +Here's Lucentio, +Right son to the right Vincentio; +That have by marriage made thy daughter mine, +While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne. + +GREMIO: +Here's packing, with a witness to deceive us all! + +VINCENTIO: +Where is that damned villain Tranio, +That faced and braved me in this matter so? + +BAPTISTA: +Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio? + +BIANCA: +Cambio is changed into Lucentio. + +LUCENTIO: +Love wrought these miracles." +"Bianca's love +Made me exchange my state with Tranio, +While he did bear my countenance in the town; +And happily I have arrived at the last +Unto the wished haven of my bliss. +What Tranio did, myself enforced him to; +Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake. + +VINCENTIO: +I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent +me to the gaol. + +BAPTISTA: +But do you hear, sir? have you married my daughter +without asking my good will? + +VINCENTIO: +Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but +I will in, to be revenged for this villany. + +BAPTISTA: +And I, to sound the depth of this knavery. + +LUCENTIO: +Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown. + +GREMIO: +My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest, +Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast. + +KATHARINA: +Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado. + +PETRUCHIO: +First kiss me, Kate, and we will. + +KATHARINA: +What, in the midst of the street? + +Bianca's love +Made me exchange my state with Tranio, +While he did bear my countenance in the town; +And happily I have arrived at the last +Unto the wished haven of my bliss. +What Tranio did, myself enforced him to; +Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake. + +VINCENTIO: +I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent +me to the gaol. + +BAPTISTA: +But do you hear, sir? have you married my daughter +without asking my good will? + +VINCENTIO: +Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but +I will in, to be revenged for this villany. + +BAPTISTA: +And I, to sound the depth of this knavery. + +LUCENTIO: +Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown. + +GREMIO: +My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest, +Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast. + +KATHARINA: +Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado. + +PETRUCHIO: +First kiss me, Kate, and we will. + +KATHARINA: +What, in the midst of the street? +PETRUCHIO: +What, art thou ashamed of me? + +KATHARINA: +No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss. + +PETRUCHIO: +Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away. + +KATHARINA: +Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay. + +PETRUCHIO: +Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate: +Better once than never, for never too late. + +LUCENTIO: +At last, though long, our jarring notes agree: +And time it is, when raging war is done, +To smile at scapes and perils overblown. +My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome, +While I with self-same kindness welcome thine. +Brother Petruchio, sister Katharina, +And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow, +Feast with the best, and welcome to my house: +My banquet is to close our stomachs up, +After our great good cheer." +"Pray you, sit down; +For now we sit to chat as well as eat. + +PETRUCHIO: +Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat! + +BAPTISTA: +Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio. + +PETRUCHIO: +Padua affords nothing but what is kind. + +HORTENSIO: +For both our sakes, I would that word were true. + +PETRUCHIO: +Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow. +Pray you, sit down; +For now we sit to chat as well as eat. + +PETRUCHIO: +Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat! + +BAPTISTA: +Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio. + +PETRUCHIO: +Padua affords nothing but what is kind. + +HORTENSIO: +For both our sakes, I would that word were true. + +PETRUCHIO: + +Widow: +Then never trust me, if I be afeard. + +PETRUCHIO: +You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense: +I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you. + +Widow: +He that is giddy thinks the world turns round. + +PETRUCHIO: +Roundly replied. + +KATHARINA: +Mistress, how mean you that? + +Widow: +Thus I conceive by him. + +PETRUCHIO: +Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that? + +HORTENSIO: +My widow says, thus she conceives her tale. + +PETRUCHIO: +Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow. + +KATHARINA: +'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:' +I pray you, tell me what you meant by that. + +Widow: +Your husband, being troubled with a shrew, +Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe: +And now you know my meaning, + +KATHARINA: +A very mean meaning. + +Widow: +Right, I mean you. + +KATHARINA: +And I am mean indeed, respecting you. + +PETRUCHIO: +To her, Kate! + +HORTENSIO: +To her, widow! + +PETRUCHIO: +A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down. + +HORTENSIO: +That's my office. + +PETRUCHIO: +Spoke like an officer; ha' to thee, lad! + +BAPTISTA: +How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? + +GREMIO: +Believe me, sir, they butt together well. + +BIANCA: +Head, and butt! an hasty-witted body +Would say your head and butt were head and horn. + +VINCENTIO: +Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you? + +BIANCA: +Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again. + +PETRUCHIO: +Nay, that you shall not: since you have begun, +Have at you for a bitter jest or two! + +BIANCA: +Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush; +And then pursue me as you draw your bow. +You are welcome all. + +PETRUCHIO: +She hath prevented me." +"Here, Signior Tranio. +This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not; +Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd. + +TRANIO: +O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound, +Which runs himself and catches for his master. + +PETRUCHIO: +A good swift simile, but something currish. + +TRANIO: +'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself: +'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay. + +BAPTISTA: +O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now. + +LUCENTIO: +I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. + +HORTENSIO: +Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here? +Here, Signior Tranio. +This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not; +Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd. + +TRANIO: +O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound, +Which runs himself and catches for his master. + +PETRUCHIO: +A good swift simile, but something currish. + +TRANIO: +'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself: +'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay. + +BAPTISTA: +O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now. + +LUCENTIO: +I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. + +HORTENSIO: + +PETRUCHIO: +A' has a little gall'd me, I confess; +And, as the jest did glance away from me, +'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright. + +BAPTISTA: +Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio, +I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all. + +PETRUCHIO: +Well, I say no: and therefore for assurance +Let's each one send unto his wife; +And he whose wife is most obedient +To come at first when he doth send for her, +Shall win the wager which we will propose. + +HORTENSIO: +Content." +"What is the wager? + +LUCENTIO: +Twenty crowns. + +PETRUCHIO: +Twenty crowns! +I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound, +But twenty times so much upon my wife. + +LUCENTIO: +A hundred then. + +HORTENSIO: +Content. + +PETRUCHIO: +A match! 'tis done. + +HORTENSIO: +Who shall begin? + +LUCENTIO: +That will I. +Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me. + +BIONDELLO: +I go. + +BAPTISTA: +Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes. + +LUCENTIO: +I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself. +How now! what news? + +BIONDELLO: +Sir, my mistress sends you word +That she is busy and she cannot come. + +PETRUCHIO: +How! she is busy and she cannot come! +Is that an answer? + +GREMIO: +Ay, and a kind one too: +Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse. + +PETRUCHIO: +I hope better. + +HORTENSIO: +Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife +To come to me forthwith. + +PETRUCHIO: +O, ho! entreat her! +Nay, then she must needs come. + +HORTENSIO: +I am afraid, sir, +Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. +Now, where's my wife? + +BIONDELLO: +She says you have some goodly jest in hand: +She will not come: she bids you come to her. + +PETRUCHIO: +Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile, +Intolerable, not to be endured! +Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress; +Say, I command her to come to me. +What is the wager? + +LUCENTIO: +Twenty crowns. + +PETRUCHIO: +Twenty crowns! +I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound, +But twenty times so much upon my wife. + +LUCENTIO: +A hundred then. + +HORTENSIO: +Content. + +PETRUCHIO: +A match! 'tis done. + +HORTENSIO: +Who shall begin? + +LUCENTIO: +That will I. +Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me. + +BIONDELLO: +I go. + +BAPTISTA: +Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes. + +LUCENTIO: +I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself. +How now! what news? + +BIONDELLO: +Sir, my mistress sends you word +That she is busy and she cannot come. + +PETRUCHIO: +How! she is busy and she cannot come! +Is that an answer? + +GREMIO: +Ay, and a kind one too: +Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse. + +PETRUCHIO: +I hope better. + +HORTENSIO: +Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife +To come to me forthwith. + +PETRUCHIO: +O, ho! entreat her! +Nay, then she must needs come. + +HORTENSIO: +I am afraid, sir, +Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. +Now, where's my wife? + +BIONDELLO: +She says you have some goodly jest in hand: +She will not come: she bids you come to her. + +PETRUCHIO: +Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile, +Intolerable, not to be endured! +Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress; + +HORTENSIO: +I know her answer. + +PETRUCHIO: +What? + +HORTENSIO: +She will not." +"PETRUCHIO: +The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. + +BAPTISTA: +Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina! + +KATHARINA: +What is your will, sir, that you send for me? + +PETRUCHIO: +Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? + +KATHARINA: +They sit conferring by the parlor fire. + +PETRUCHIO: +Go fetch them hither: if they deny to come. +Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands: +Away, I say, and bring them hither straight. + +LUCENTIO: +Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. + +HORTENSIO: +And so it is: I wonder what it bodes. + +PETRUCHIO: +Marry, peace it bodes, and love and quiet life, +And awful rule and right supremacy; +And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy? + +BAPTISTA: +Now, fair befal thee, good Petruchio! +The wager thou hast won; and I will add +Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns; +Another dowry to another daughter, +For she is changed, as she had never been. + +PETRUCHIO: +Nay, I will win my wager better yet +And show more sign of her obedience, +Her new-built virtue and obedience. +See where she comes and brings your froward wives +As prisoners to her womanly persuasion. +Katharina, that cap of yours becomes you not: +Off with that bauble, throw it under-foot. + +Widow: +Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, +Till I be brought to such a silly pass! + +BIANCA: +Fie! what a foolish duty call you this? + +LUCENTIO: +I would your duty were as foolish too: +The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, +Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time. + +BIANCA: +The more fool you, for laying on my duty. + +PETRUCHIO: +Katharina, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women +What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. + +Widow: +Come, come, you're mocking: we will have no telling. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come on, I say; and first begin with her. + +Widow: +She shall not. + +PETRUCHIO: +I say she shall: and first begin with her. + +KATHARINA: +Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow, +And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, +To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: +It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, +Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, +And in no sense is meet or amiable. +A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, +Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; +And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty +Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. +Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, +Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, +And for thy maintenance commits his body +To painful labour both by sea and land, +To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, +Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; +And craves no other tribute at thy hands +But love, fair looks and true obedience; +Too little payment for so great a debt. +Such duty as the subject owes the prince +Even such a woman oweth to her husband; +And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour, +And not obedient to his honest will, +What is she but a foul contending rebel +And graceless traitor to her loving lord? +I am ashamed that women are so simple +To offer war where they should kneel for peace; +Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway, +When they are bound to serve, love and obey." +"Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth, +Unapt to toil and trouble in the world, +But that our soft conditions and our hearts +Should well agree with our external parts? +Come, come, you froward and unable worms! +My mind hath been as big as one of yours, +My heart as great, my reason haply more, +To bandy word for word and frown for frown; +But now I see our lances are but straws, +Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare, +That seeming to be most which we indeed least are. +Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot, +And place your hands below your husband's foot: +In token of which duty, if he please, +My hand is ready; may it do him ease. + +PETRUCHIO: +Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate. + +LUCENTIO: +Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt ha't. + +VINCENTIO: +'Tis a good hearing when children are toward. + +LUCENTIO: +But a harsh hearing when women are froward. + +PETRUCHIO: +Come, Kate, we'll to bed. +We three are married, but you two are sped. +'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white; +And, being a winner, God give you good night! + +HORTENSIO: +Now, go thy ways; thou hast tamed a curst shrew. + +LUCENTIO: +'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so. + +Master: +Boatswain! + +Boatswain: +Here, master: what cheer? + +Master: +Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely, +or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. + +Boatswain: +Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! +yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the +master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, +if room enough! + +ALONSO: +Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? +Play the men. + +Boatswain: +I pray now, keep below. + +ANTONIO: +Where is the master, boatswain? + +Boatswain: +Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your +cabins: you do assist the storm. + +GONZALO: +Nay, good, be patient. + +Boatswain: +When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers +for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not. + +GONZALO: +Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. + +Boatswain: +None that I more love than myself. You are a +counsellor; if you can command these elements to +silence, and work the peace of the present, we will +not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you +cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make +yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of +the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out +of our way, I say. + +GONZALO: +I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he +hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is +perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his +hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable, +for our own doth little advantage." +"If he be not +born to be hanged, our case is miserable. + +Boatswain: +Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring +her to try with main-course. +A plague upon this howling! they are louder than +the weather or our office. +Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er +and drown? Have you a mind to sink? + +SEBASTIAN: +A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, +incharitable dog! + +Boatswain: +Work you then. + +ANTONIO: +Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! +If he be not +born to be hanged, our case is miserable. + +Boatswain: +Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring +her to try with main-course. +A plague upon this howling! they are louder than +the weather or our office. +Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er +and drown? Have you a mind to sink? + +SEBASTIAN: +A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, +incharitable dog! + +Boatswain: +Work you then. + +ANTONIO: +We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. + +GONZALO: +I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were +no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an +unstanched wench. + +Boatswain: +Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to +sea again; lay her off. + +Mariners: +All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! + +Boatswain: +What, must our mouths be cold? + +GONZALO: +The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them, +For our case is as theirs. + +SEBASTIAN: +I'm out of patience. + +ANTONIO: +We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards: +This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning +The washing of ten tides! + +GONZALO: +He'll be hang'd yet, +Though every drop of water swear against it +And gape at widest to glut him. + +ANTONIO: +Let's all sink with the king. + +SEBASTIAN: +Let's take leave of him. + +GONZALO: +Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an +acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any +thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain +die a dry death. + +MIRANDA: +If by your art, my dearest father, you have +Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. +The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, +But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, +Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered +With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel, +Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, +Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock +Against my very heart." +"Poor souls, they perish'd. +Had I been any god of power, I would +Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere +It should the good ship so have swallow'd and +The fraughting souls within her. + +PROSPERO: +Be collected: +No more amazement: tell your piteous heart +There's no harm done. + +MIRANDA: +O, woe the day! + +PROSPERO: +No harm. +I have done nothing but in care of thee, +Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who +Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing +Of whence I am, nor that I am more better +Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, +And thy no greater father. + +MIRANDA: +More to know +Did never meddle with my thoughts. +Poor souls, they perish'd. +Had I been any god of power, I would +Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere +It should the good ship so have swallow'd and +The fraughting souls within her. + +PROSPERO: +Be collected: +No more amazement: tell your piteous heart +There's no harm done. + +MIRANDA: +O, woe the day! + +PROSPERO: +No harm. +I have done nothing but in care of thee, +Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who +Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing +Of whence I am, nor that I am more better +Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, +And thy no greater father. + +MIRANDA: +More to know + +PROSPERO: +'Tis time +I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, +And pluck my magic garment from me. So: +Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. +The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd +The very virtue of compassion in thee, +I have with such provision in mine art +So safely ordered that there is no soul-- +No, not so much perdition as an hair +Betid to any creature in the vessel +Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; +For thou must now know farther. + +MIRANDA: +You have often +Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd +And left me to a bootless inquisition, +Concluding 'Stay: not yet.' + +PROSPERO: +The hour's now come; +The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; +Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember +A time before we came unto this cell? +I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not +Out three years old. + +MIRANDA: +Certainly, sir, I can. + +PROSPERO: +By what? by any other house or person? +Of any thing the image tell me that +Hath kept with thy remembrance. + +MIRANDA: +'Tis far off +And rather like a dream than an assurance +That my remembrance warrants. Had I not +Four or five women once that tended me? + +PROSPERO: +Thou hadst, and more, Miranda." +"But how is it +That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else +In the dark backward and abysm of time? +If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here, +How thou camest here thou mayst. + +MIRANDA: +But that I do not. + +PROSPERO: +Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, +Thy father was the Duke of Milan and +A prince of power. + +MIRANDA: +Sir, are not you my father? + +PROSPERO: +Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and +She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father +Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir +And princess no worse issued. + +MIRANDA: +O the heavens! +What foul play had we, that we came from thence? +Or blessed was't we did? + +PROSPERO: +Both, both, my girl: +By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence, +But how is it +That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else +In the dark backward and abysm of time? +If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here, +How thou camest here thou mayst. + +MIRANDA: +But that I do not. + +PROSPERO: +Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, +Thy father was the Duke of Milan and +A prince of power. + +MIRANDA: +Sir, are not you my father? + +PROSPERO: +Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and +She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father +Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir +And princess no worse issued. + +MIRANDA: +O the heavens! +What foul play had we, that we came from thence? +Or blessed was't we did? + +PROSPERO: +Both, both, my girl: +But blessedly holp hither. + +MIRANDA: +O, my heart bleeds +To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, +Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. + +PROSPERO: +My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio-- +I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should +Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself +Of all the world I loved and to him put +The manage of my state; as at that time +Through all the signories it was the first +And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed +In dignity, and for the liberal arts +Without a parallel; those being all my study, +The government I cast upon my brother +And to my state grew stranger, being transported +And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-- +Dost thou attend me? + +MIRANDA: +Sir, most heedfully. + +PROSPERO: +Being once perfected how to grant suits, +How to deny them, who to advance and who +To trash for over-topping, new created +The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, +Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key +Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state +To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was +The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, +And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not. + +MIRANDA: +O, good sir, I do. + +PROSPERO: +I pray thee, mark me. +I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated +To closeness and the bettering of my mind +With that which, but by being so retired, +O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother +Awaked an evil nature; and my trust, +Like a good parent, did beget of him +A falsehood in its contrary as great +As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, +A confidence sans bound." +"He being thus lorded, +Not only with what my revenue yielded, +But what my power might else exact, like one +Who having into truth, by telling of it, +Made such a sinner of his memory, +To credit his own lie, he did believe +He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution +He being thus lorded, +Not only with what my revenue yielded, +But what my power might else exact, like one +Who having into truth, by telling of it, +Made such a sinner of his memory, +To credit his own lie, he did believe +And executing the outward face of royalty, +With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing-- +Dost thou hear? + +MIRANDA: +Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. + +PROSPERO: +To have no screen between this part he play'd +And him he play'd it for, he needs will be +Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library +Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties +He thinks me now incapable; confederates-- +So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples +To give him annual tribute, do him homage, +Subject his coronet to his crown and bend +The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!-- +To most ignoble stooping. + +MIRANDA: +O the heavens! + +PROSPERO: +Mark his condition and the event; then tell me +If this might be a brother. + +MIRANDA: +I should sin +To think but nobly of my grandmother: +Good wombs have borne bad sons. + +PROSPERO: +Now the condition. +The King of Naples, being an enemy +To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit; +Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises +Of homage and I know not how much tribute, +Should presently extirpate me and mine +Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan +With all the honours on my brother: whereon, +A treacherous army levied, one midnight +Fated to the purpose did Antonio open +The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness, +The ministers for the purpose hurried thence +Me and thy crying self. + +MIRANDA: +Alack, for pity! +I, not remembering how I cried out then, +Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint +That wrings mine eyes to't. + +PROSPERO: +Hear a little further +And then I'll bring thee to the present business +Which now's upon's; without the which this story +Were most impertinent. + +MIRANDA: +Wherefore did they not +That hour destroy us? + +PROSPERO: +Well demanded, wench: +My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, +So dear the love my people bore me, nor set +A mark so bloody on the business, but +With colours fairer painted their foul ends. +In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, +Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared +A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, +Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats +Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us, +To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh +To the winds whose pity, sighing back again, +Did us but loving wrong. + +MIRANDA: +Alack, what trouble +Was I then to you! + +PROSPERO: +O, a cherubim +Thou wast that did preserve me." +"Thou didst smile. +Infused with a fortitude from heaven, +When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt, +Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me +An undergoing stomach, to bear up +Against what should ensue. + +MIRANDA: +How came we ashore? + +PROSPERO: +By Providence divine. +Some food we had and some fresh water that +A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, +Out of his charity, being then appointed +Master of this design, did give us, with +Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, +Thou didst smile. +Infused with a fortitude from heaven, +When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt, +Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me +An undergoing stomach, to bear up +Against what should ensue. + +MIRANDA: +How came we ashore? + +PROSPERO: +By Providence divine. +Some food we had and some fresh water that +A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, +Out of his charity, being then appointed +Master of this design, did give us, with +Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, +Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me +From mine own library with volumes that +I prize above my dukedom. + +MIRANDA: +Would I might +But ever see that man! + +PROSPERO: +Now I arise: +Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. +Here in this island we arrived; and here +Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit +Than other princesses can that have more time +For vainer hours and tutors not so careful. + +MIRANDA: +Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, +For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason +For raising this sea-storm? + +PROSPERO: +Know thus far forth. +By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, +Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies +Brought to this shore; and by my prescience +I find my zenith doth depend upon +A most auspicious star, whose influence +If now I court not but omit, my fortunes +Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions: +Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, +And give it way: I know thou canst not choose. +Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. +Approach, my Ariel, come. + +ARIEL: +All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come +To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, +To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride +On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task +Ariel and all his quality. + +PROSPERO: +Hast thou, spirit, +Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? + +ARIEL: +To every article. +I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, +Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, +I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide, +And burn in many places; on the topmast, +The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, +Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors +O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary +And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks +Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune +Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, +Yea, his dread trident shake. + +PROSPERO: +My brave spirit! +Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil +Would not infect his reason? + +ARIEL: +Not a soul +But felt a fever of the mad and play'd +Some tricks of desperation." +"All but mariners +Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, +Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, +With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,-- +Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty +And all the devils are here.' +All but mariners +Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, +Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, +With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,-- +Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty + +PROSPERO: +Why that's my spirit! +But was not this nigh shore? + +ARIEL: +Close by, my master. + +PROSPERO: +But are they, Ariel, safe? + +ARIEL: +Not a hair perish'd; +On their sustaining garments not a blemish, +But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me, +In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle. +The king's son have I landed by himself; +Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs +In an odd angle of the isle and sitting, +His arms in this sad knot. + +PROSPERO: +Of the king's ship +The mariners say how thou hast disposed +And all the rest o' the fleet. + +ARIEL: +Safely in harbour +Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once +Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew +From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid: +The mariners all under hatches stow'd; +Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, +I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet +Which I dispersed, they all have met again +And are upon the Mediterranean flote, +Bound sadly home for Naples, +Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd +And his great person perish. + +PROSPERO: +Ariel, thy charge +Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work. +What is the time o' the day? + +ARIEL: +Past the mid season. + +PROSPERO: +At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now +Must by us both be spent most preciously. + +ARIEL: +Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, +Let me remember thee what thou hast promised, +Which is not yet perform'd me. + +PROSPERO: +How now? moody? +What is't thou canst demand? + +ARIEL: +My liberty. + +PROSPERO: +Before the time be out? no more! + +ARIEL: +I prithee, +Remember I have done thee worthy service; +Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served +Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise +To bate me a full year. + +PROSPERO: +Dost thou forget +From what a torment I did free thee? + +ARIEL: +No. + +PROSPERO: +Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze +Of the salt deep, +To run upon the sharp wind of the north, +To do me business in the veins o' the earth +When it is baked with frost. + +ARIEL: +I do not, sir. + +PROSPERO: +Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot +The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy +Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? + +ARIEL: +No, sir. + +PROSPERO: +Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. + +ARIEL: +Sir, in Argier. + +PROSPERO: +O, was she so? I must +Once in a month recount what thou hast been, +Which thou forget'st." +"This damn'd witch Sycorax, +For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible +To enter human hearing, from Argier, +Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did +This damn'd witch Sycorax, +For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible +To enter human hearing, from Argier, +They would not take her life. Is not this true? + +ARIEL: +Ay, sir. + +PROSPERO: +This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child +And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, +As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant; +And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate +To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, +Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, +By help of her more potent ministers +And in her most unmitigable rage, +Into a cloven pine; within which rift +Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain +A dozen years; within which space she died +And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans +As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-- +Save for the son that she did litter here, +A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with +A human shape. + +ARIEL: +Yes, Caliban her son. + +PROSPERO: +Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban +Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st +What torment I did find thee in; thy groans +Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts +Of ever angry bears: it was a torment +To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax +Could not again undo: it was mine art, +When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape +The pine and let thee out. + +ARIEL: +I thank thee, master. + +PROSPERO: +If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak +And peg thee in his knotty entrails till +Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. + +ARIEL: +Pardon, master; +I will be correspondent to command +And do my spiriting gently. + +PROSPERO: +Do so, and after two days +I will discharge thee. + +ARIEL: +That's my noble master! +What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? + +PROSPERO: +Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject +To no sight but thine and mine, invisible +To every eyeball else. Go take this shape +And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence! +Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake! + +MIRANDA: +The strangeness of your story put +Heaviness in me. + +PROSPERO: +Shake it off. Come on; +We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never +Yields us kind answer. + +MIRANDA: +'Tis a villain, sir, +I do not love to look on. + +PROSPERO: +But, as 'tis, +We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, +Fetch in our wood and serves in offices +That profit us." +"What, ho! slave! Caliban! +Thou earth, thou! speak. + +CALIBAN: + +PROSPERO: +Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: +Come, thou tortoise! when? +Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, +Hark in thine ear. + +ARIEL: +My lord it shall be done. + +PROSPERO: +Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself +Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! + +CALIBAN: +As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd +With raven's feather from unwholesome fen +Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye +And blister you all o'er! + +PROSPERO: +For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, +Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins +What, ho! slave! Caliban! +Thou earth, thou! speak. + +CALIBAN: + +PROSPERO: +Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: +Come, thou tortoise! when? +Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, +Hark in thine ear. + +ARIEL: +My lord it shall be done. + +PROSPERO: +Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself +Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! + +CALIBAN: +As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd +With raven's feather from unwholesome fen +Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye +And blister you all o'er! + +PROSPERO: +For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, +Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, +All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd +As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging +Than bees that made 'em. + +CALIBAN: +I must eat my dinner. +This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, +Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first, +Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me +Water with berries in't, and teach me how +To name the bigger light, and how the less, +That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee +And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, +The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile: +Cursed be I that did so! All the charms +Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! +For I am all the subjects that you have, +Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me +In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me +The rest o' the island. + +PROSPERO: +Thou most lying slave, +Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, +Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee +In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate +The honour of my child. + +CALIBAN: +O ho, O ho! would't had been done! +Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else +This isle with Calibans. + +PROSPERO: +Abhorred slave, +Which any print of goodness wilt not take, +Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, +Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour +One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, +Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like +A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes +With words that made them known. But thy vile race, +Though thou didst learn, had that in't which +good natures +Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou +Deservedly confined into this rock, +Who hadst deserved more than a prison. + +CALIBAN: +You taught me language; and my profit on't +Is, I know how to curse." +"The red plague rid you +For learning me your language! + +PROSPERO: +Hag-seed, hence! +Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best, +The red plague rid you +For learning me your language! + +PROSPERO: +Hag-seed, hence! +To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? +If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly +What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, +Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar +That beasts shall tremble at thy din. + +CALIBAN: +No, pray thee. +I must obey: his art is of such power, +It would control my dam's god, Setebos, +and make a vassal of him. + +PROSPERO: +So, slave; hence! +Come unto these yellow sands, +And then take hands: +Courtsied when you have and kiss'd +The wild waves whist, +Foot it featly here and there; +And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. +Hark, hark! + +FERDINAND: +Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth? +It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon +Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank, +Weeping again the king my father's wreck, +This music crept by me upon the waters, +Allaying both their fury and my passion +With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, +Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. +No, it begins again. +Full fathom five thy father lies; +Of his bones are coral made; +Those are pearls that were his eyes: +Nothing of him that doth fade +But doth suffer a sea-change +Into something rich and strange. +Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell +Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell. + +FERDINAND: +The ditty does remember my drown'd father. +This is no mortal business, nor no sound +That the earth owes. I hear it now above me. + +PROSPERO: +The fringed curtains of thine eye advance +And say what thou seest yond. + +MIRANDA: +What is't? a spirit? +Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, +It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. + +PROSPERO: +No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses +As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest +Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd +With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him +A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows +And strays about to find 'em. + +MIRANDA: +I might call him +A thing divine, for nothing natural +I ever saw so noble. + +PROSPERO: + +FERDINAND: +Most sure, the goddess +On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer +May know if you remain upon this island; +And that you will some good instruction give +How I may bear me here: my prime request, +Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! +If you be maid or no? + +MIRANDA: +No wonder, sir; +But certainly a maid. + +FERDINAND: +My language! heavens! +I am the best of them that speak this speech, +Were I but where 'tis spoken. + +PROSPERO: +How? the best? +What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee? + +FERDINAND: +A single thing, as I am now, that wonders +To hear thee speak of Naples." +"He does hear me; +And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, +Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld +The king my father wreck'd. + +MIRANDA: +Alack, for mercy! + +FERDINAND: +Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan +And his brave son being twain. + +PROSPERO: + +MIRANDA: +Why speaks my father so ungently? This +He does hear me; +And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, +Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld +The king my father wreck'd. + +MIRANDA: +Alack, for mercy! + +FERDINAND: +Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan +And his brave son being twain. + +PROSPERO: + +MIRANDA: +Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first +That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father +To be inclined my way! + +FERDINAND: +O, if a virgin, +And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you +The queen of Naples. + +PROSPERO: +Soft, sir! one word more. +They are both in either's powers; but this swift business +I must uneasy make, lest too light winning +Make the prize light. +One word more; I charge thee +That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp +The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself +Upon this island as a spy, to win it +From me, the lord on't. + +FERDINAND: +No, as I am a man. + +MIRANDA: +There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: +If the ill spirit have so fair a house, +Good things will strive to dwell with't. + +PROSPERO: +Follow me. +Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come; +I'll manacle thy neck and feet together: +Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be +The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks +Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. + +FERDINAND: +No; +I will resist such entertainment till +Mine enemy has more power. + +MIRANDA: +O dear father, +Make not too rash a trial of him, for +He's gentle and not fearful. + +PROSPERO: +What? I say, +My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; +Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience +Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward, +For I can here disarm thee with this stick +And make thy weapon drop. + +MIRANDA: +Beseech you, father. + +PROSPERO: +Hence! hang not on my garments. + +MIRANDA: +Sir, have pity; +I'll be his surety. + +PROSPERO: +Silence! one word more +Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee." +"What! +An advocate for an imposter! hush! +Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, +Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! +To the most of men this is a Caliban +And they to him are angels. + +MIRANDA: +My affections +Are then most humble; I have no ambition +To see a goodlier man. + +PROSPERO: +Come on; obey: +Thy nerves are in their infancy again +And have no vigour in them. + +FERDINAND: +So they are; +My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. +My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, +The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats, +To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, +Might I but through my prison once a day +Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth +Let liberty make use of; space enough +Have I in such a prison. + +PROSPERO: + +MIRANDA: +Be of comfort; +My father's of a better nature, sir, +What! +An advocate for an imposter! hush! +Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, +Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! +To the most of men this is a Caliban +And they to him are angels. + +MIRANDA: +My affections +Are then most humble; I have no ambition +To see a goodlier man. + +PROSPERO: +Come on; obey: +Thy nerves are in their infancy again +And have no vigour in them. + +FERDINAND: +So they are; +My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. +My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, +The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats, +To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, +Might I but through my prison once a day +Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth +Let liberty make use of; space enough +Have I in such a prison. + +PROSPERO: + +MIRANDA: +Be of comfort; +Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted +Which now came from him. + +PROSPERO: +Thou shalt be free +As mountain winds: but then exactly do +All points of my command. + +ARIEL: +To the syllable. + +PROSPERO: +Come, follow. Speak not for him. + +GONZALO: +Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause, +So have we all, of joy; for our escape +Is much beyond our loss." +"Our hint of woe +Is common; every day some sailor's wife, +The masters of some merchant and the merchant +Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, +I mean our preservation, few in millions +Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh +Our sorrow with our comfort. + +ALONSO: +Prithee, peace. + +SEBASTIAN: +He receives comfort like cold porridge. + +ANTONIO: +The visitor will not give him o'er so. + +SEBASTIAN: +Look he's winding up the watch of his wit; +by and by it will strike. + +GONZALO: +Sir,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +One: tell. + +GONZALO: +When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, +Comes to the entertainer-- + +SEBASTIAN: +A dollar. + +GONZALO: +Dolour comes to him, indeed: you +have spoken truer than you purposed. + +SEBASTIAN: +You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. + +GONZALO: +Therefore, my lord,-- + +ANTONIO: +Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! + +ALONSO: +I prithee, spare. + +GONZALO: +Well, I have done: but yet,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +He will be talking. +Our hint of woe +Is common; every day some sailor's wife, +The masters of some merchant and the merchant +Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, +I mean our preservation, few in millions +Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh +Our sorrow with our comfort. + +ALONSO: +Prithee, peace. + +SEBASTIAN: +He receives comfort like cold porridge. + +ANTONIO: +The visitor will not give him o'er so. + +SEBASTIAN: +Look he's winding up the watch of his wit; +by and by it will strike. + +GONZALO: +Sir,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +One: tell. + +GONZALO: +When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, +Comes to the entertainer-- + +SEBASTIAN: +A dollar. + +GONZALO: +Dolour comes to him, indeed: you +have spoken truer than you purposed. + +SEBASTIAN: +You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. + +GONZALO: +Therefore, my lord,-- + +ANTONIO: +Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! + +ALONSO: +I prithee, spare. + +GONZALO: +Well, I have done: but yet,-- + +SEBASTIAN: + +ANTONIO: +Which, of he or Adrian, for a good +wager, first begins to crow? + +SEBASTIAN: +The old cock. + +ANTONIO: +The cockerel. + +SEBASTIAN: +Done." +"The wager? + +ANTONIO: +A laughter. + +SEBASTIAN: +A match! + +ADRIAN: +Though this island seem to be desert,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid. + +ADRIAN: +Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +Yet,-- + +ADRIAN: +Yet,-- + +ANTONIO: +He could not miss't. + +ADRIAN: +It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate +temperance. + +ANTONIO: +Temperance was a delicate wench. + +SEBASTIAN: +Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. + +ADRIAN: +The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. + +SEBASTIAN: +As if it had lungs and rotten ones. + +ANTONIO: +Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. +GONZALO: +The wager? + +ANTONIO: +A laughter. + +SEBASTIAN: +A match! + +ADRIAN: +Though this island seem to be desert,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid. + +ADRIAN: +Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +Yet,-- + +ADRIAN: +Yet,-- + +ANTONIO: +He could not miss't. + +ADRIAN: +It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate +temperance. + +ANTONIO: +Temperance was a delicate wench. + +SEBASTIAN: +Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. + +ADRIAN: +The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. + +SEBASTIAN: +As if it had lungs and rotten ones. + +ANTONIO: +Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. +Here is everything advantageous to life. + +ANTONIO: +True; save means to live. + +SEBASTIAN: +Of that there's none, or little. + +GONZALO: +How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! + +ANTONIO: +The ground indeed is tawny. + +SEBASTIAN: +With an eye of green in't. + +ANTONIO: +He misses not much. + +SEBASTIAN: +No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. + +GONZALO: +But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost +beyond credit,-- + +SEBASTIAN: +As many vouched rarities are. + +GONZALO: +That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in +the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and +glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with +salt water. + +ANTONIO: +If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not +say he lies? + +SEBASTIAN: +Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report + +GONZALO: +Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we +put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of +the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. + +SEBASTIAN: +'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. + +ADRIAN: +Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to +their queen. + +GONZALO: +Not since widow Dido's time. + +ANTONIO: +Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in? +widow Dido! + +SEBASTIAN: +What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord, +how you take it! + +ADRIAN: +'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that: +she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. + +GONZALO: +This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. + +ADRIAN: +Carthage?" +"GONZALO: +I assure you, Carthage. + +SEBASTIAN: +His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath +raised the wall and houses too. + +ANTONIO: +What impossible matter will he make easy next? + +SEBASTIAN: +I think he will carry this island home in his pocket +and give it his son for an apple. + +ANTONIO: +And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring +forth more islands. + +GONZALO: +Ay. + +ANTONIO: +Why, in good time. + +GONZALO: +Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now +as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage +of your daughter, who is now queen. + +ANTONIO: +And the rarest that e'er came there. + +SEBASTIAN: +Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. + +ANTONIO: +O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido. + +GONZALO: +Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I +wore it? I mean, in a sort. + +ANTONIO: +That sort was well fished for. + +GONZALO: +When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? + +ALONSO: +You cram these words into mine ears against +The stomach of my sense. Would I had never +Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, +My son is lost and, in my rate, she too, +Who is so far from Italy removed +I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir +Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish +Hath made his meal on thee? + +FRANCISCO: +Sir, he may live: +I saw him beat the surges under him, +And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, +Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted +The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head +'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd +Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke +To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, +As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt +He came alive to land. + +ALONSO: +No, no, he's gone. + +SEBASTIAN: +Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, +That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, +But rather lose her to an African; +Where she at least is banish'd from your eye, +Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. + +ALONSO: +Prithee, peace. + +SEBASTIAN: +You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise +By all of us, and the fair soul herself +Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at +Which end o' the beam should bow." +"We have lost your +son, +I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have +More widows in them of this business' making +Than we bring men to comfort them: +The fault's your own. + +ALONSO: +So is the dear'st o' the loss. + +GONZALO: +My lord Sebastian, +The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness +And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, +When you should bring the plaster. + +SEBASTIAN: +Very well. + +ANTONIO: +And most chirurgeonly. + +GONZALO: +It is foul weather in us all, good sir, +When you are cloudy. + +SEBASTIAN: +Foul weather? + +ANTONIO: +Very foul. + +GONZALO: +Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,-- + +ANTONIO: +He'ld sow't with nettle-seed. + +SEBASTIAN: +Or docks, or mallows. + +GONZALO: +And were the king on't, what would I do? + +SEBASTIAN: +'Scape being drunk for want of wine. + +GONZALO: +I' the commonwealth I would by contraries +We have lost your +son, +I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have +More widows in them of this business' making +Than we bring men to comfort them: +The fault's your own. + +ALONSO: +So is the dear'st o' the loss. + +GONZALO: +My lord Sebastian, +The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness +And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, +When you should bring the plaster. + +SEBASTIAN: +Very well. + +ANTONIO: +And most chirurgeonly. + +GONZALO: +It is foul weather in us all, good sir, +When you are cloudy. + +SEBASTIAN: +Foul weather? + +ANTONIO: +Very foul. + +GONZALO: +Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,-- + +ANTONIO: +He'ld sow't with nettle-seed. + +SEBASTIAN: +Or docks, or mallows. + +GONZALO: +And were the king on't, what would I do? + +SEBASTIAN: +'Scape being drunk for want of wine. + +GONZALO: +Execute all things; for no kind of traffic +Would I admit; no name of magistrate; +Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, +And use of service, none; contract, succession, +Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; +No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; +No occupation; all men idle, all; +And women too, but innocent and pure; +No sovereignty;-- + +SEBASTIAN: +Yet he would be king on't. + +ANTONIO: +The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the +beginning. + +GONZALO: +All things in common nature should produce +Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, +Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, +Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, +Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, +To feed my innocent people. + +SEBASTIAN: +No marrying 'mong his subjects? + +ANTONIO: +None, man; all idle: whores and knaves. + +GONZALO: +I would with such perfection govern, sir, +To excel the golden age. + +SEBASTIAN: +God save his majesty! + +ANTONIO: +Long live Gonzalo! + +GONZALO: +And,--do you mark me, sir? + +ALONSO: +Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. + +GONZALO: +I do well believe your highness; and +did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,"