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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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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.
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: