Whether away, or whether is thy aboade?
Happy the Parents of so faire a childe;
Happier the man whom fauourable stars
A lots thee for his louely bedfellow
Petr. Why how now Kate, I hope thou art not mad,
This is a man old, wrinckled, faded, withered,
And not a Maiden, as thou saist he is
Kate. Pardon old father my mistaking eies,
That haue bin so bedazled with the sunne,
That euery thing I looke on seemeth greene:
Now I perceiue thou art a reuerent Father:
Pardon I pray thee for my mad mistaking
Petr. Do good old grandsire, & withall make known
Which way thou trauellest, if along with vs,
We shall be ioyfull of thy companie
Vin. Faire Sir, and you my merry Mistris,
That with your strange encounter much amasde me:
My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
And bound I am to Padua, there to visite
A sonne of mine, which long I haue not seene
Petr. What is his name?
Vinc. Lucentio gentle sir
Petr. Happily met, the happier for thy sonne:
And now by Law, as well as reuerent age,
I may intitle thee my louing Father,
The sister to my wife, this Gentlewoman,
Thy Sonne by this hath married: wonder not,
Nor be not grieued, she is of good esteeme,
Her dowrie wealthie, and of worthie birth;
Beside, so qualified, as may beseeme
The Spouse of any noble Gentleman:
Let me imbrace with old Vincentio,
And wander we to see thy honest sonne,
Who will of thy arriuall be full ioyous
Vinc. But is this true, or is it else your pleasure,
Like pleasant trauailors to breake a Iest
Vpon the companie you ouertake?
Hort. I doe assure thee father so it is
Petr. Come goe along and see the truth hereof,
For our first merriment hath made thee iealous.
Exeunt.
Hor. Well Petruchio, this has put me in heart;
Haue to my Widdow, and if she froward,
Then hast thou taught Hortentio to be vntoward.
Enter.
Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianca, Gremio is out before.
Biond. Softly and swiftly sir, for the Priest is ready
Luc. I flie Biondello; but they may chance to neede
thee at home, therefore leaue vs.
Enter.
Biond. Nay faith, Ile see the Church a your backe,
and then come backe to my mistris as soone as I can
Gre. I maruaile Cambio comes not all this while.
Enter Petruchio, Kate, Vincentio, Grumio with Attendants.
Petr. Sir heres the doore, this is Lucentios house,
My Fathers beares more toward the Market-place,
Thither must I, and here I leaue you sir
Vin. You shall not choose but drinke before you go,
I thinke I shall command your welcome here;
And by all likelihood some cheere is toward.
Knock.
Grem. They're busie within, you were best knocke
lowder.
Pedant lookes out of the window.
Ped. What's he that knockes as he would beat downe
the gate?
Vin. Is Signior Lucentio within sir?
Ped. He's within sir, but not to be spoken withall
Vinc. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or
two to make merrie withall
Ped. Keepe your hundred pounds to your selfe, hee
shall neede none so long as I liue
Petr. Nay, I told you your sonne was well beloued in
Padua: doe you heare sir, to leaue friuolous circumstances,
I pray you tell signior Lucentio that his Father is
come from Pisa, and is here at the doore to speake with
him
Ped. Thou liest his Father is come from Padua, and
here looking out at the window
Vin. Art thou his father?
Ped. I sir, so his mother saies, if I may beleeue her
Petr. Why how now gentleman: why this is flat knauerie
to take vpon you another mans name
Peda. Lay hands on the villaine, I beleeue a meanes
to cosen some bodie in this Citie vnder my countenance.
Enter Biondello.
Bio. I haue seene them in the Church together, God
send 'em good shipping: but who is here? mine old Master
Vincentio: now wee are vndone and brought to nothing
Vin. Come hither crackhempe
Bion. I hope I may choose Sir
Vin. Come hither you rogue, what haue you forgot
mee?
Biond. Forgot you, no sir: I could not forget you, for
I neuer saw you before in all my life
Vinc. What, you notorious villaine, didst thou neuer
see thy Mistris father, Vincentio?
Bion. What my old worshipfull old master? yes
marie sir see where he lookes out of the window
Vin. Ist so indeede.
He beates Biondello.
Bion. Helpe, helpe, helpe, here's a mad man will murder
me
Pedan. Helpe, sonne, helpe signior Baptista
Petr. Preethe Kate let's stand aside and see the end of
this controuersie.
Enter Pedant with seruants, Baptista, Tranio.
Tra. Sir, what are you that offer to beate my seruant?
Vinc. What am I sir: nay what are you sir: oh immortall
Goddes: oh fine villaine, a silken doublet, a veluet
hose, a scarlet cloake, and a copataine hat: oh I am
vndone, I am vndone: while I plaie the good husband
at home, my sonne and my seruant spend all at the vniuersitie
Tra. How now, what's the matter?
Bapt. What is the man lunaticke?
Tra. Sir, you seeme a sober ancient Gentleman by
your habit: but your words shew you a mad man: why
sir, what cernes it you, if I weare Pearle and gold: I thank
my good Father, I am able to maintaine it
Vin. Thy father: oh villaine, he is a Saile-maker in
Bergamo
Bap. You mistake sir, you mistake sir, praie what do
you thinke is his name?
Vin. His name, as if I knew not his name: I haue
brought him vp euer since he was three yeeres old, and
his name is Tronio
Ped. Awaie, awaie mad asse, his name is Lucentio, and
he is mine onelie sonne and heire to the Lands of me signior
Vincentio
Ven. Lucentio: oh he hath murdred his Master; laie
hold on him I charge you in the Dukes name: oh my
sonne, my sonne: tell me thou villaine, where is my son
Lucentio?
Tra. Call forth an officer: Carrie this mad knaue to
the Iaile: father Baptista, I charge you see that hee be
forth comming
Vinc. Carrie me to the Iaile?
Gre. Staie officer, he shall not go to prison
Bap. Talke not signior Gremio: I saie he shall goe to
prison
Gre. Take heede signior Baptista, least you be conicatcht
in this businesse: I dare sweare this is the right
Vincentio
Ped. Sweare if thou dar'st
Gre. Naie, I dare not sweare it
Tran. Then thou wert best saie that I am not Lucentio
Gre. Yes, I know thee to be signior Lucentio
Bap. Awaie with the dotard, to the Iaile with him.
Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianeu.
Vin. Thus strangers may be haild and abusd: oh monstrous
villaine
Bion. Oh we are spoil'd, and yonder he is, denie him,
forsweare him, or else we are all vndone.
Exit Biondello, Tranio and Pedant as fast as may be.
Luc. Pardon sweete father.
Kneele.
Vin. Liues my sweete sonne?
Bian. Pardon deere father
Bap. How hast thou offended, where is Lucentio?
Luc. Here's Lucentio, right sonne to the right Vincentio,
That haue by marriage made thy daughter mine,
While counterfeit supposes bleer'd thine eine
Gre. Here's packing with a witnesse to deceiue vs all
Vin. Where is that damned villaine Tranio,
That fac'd and braued me in this matter so?
Bap. Why, tell me is not this my Cambio?
Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio
Luc. Loue wrought these miracles. Biancas loue
Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
While he did beare my countenance in the towne,
And happilie I haue arriued at the last
Vnto the wished hauen of my blisse:
What Tranio did, my selfe enforst him to;
Then pardon him sweete Father for my sake
Vin. Ile slit the villaines nose that would haue sent
me to the Iaile
Bap. But doe you heare sir, haue you married my
daughter without asking my good will?
Vin. Feare not Baptista, we will content you, goe to:
but I will in to be reueng'd for this villanie.
Enter.
Bap. And I to sound the depth of this knauerie.
Enter.
Luc. Looke not pale Bianca, thy father will not frown.
Exeunt.
Gre. My cake is dough, but Ile in among the rest,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast
Kate. Husband let's follow, to see the end of this adoe
Petr. First kisse me Kate, and we will
Kate. What in the midst of the streete?
Petr. What art thou asham'd of me?
Kate. No sir, God forbid, but asham'd to kisse
Petr. Why then let's home againe: Come Sirra let's
awaie
Kate. Nay, I will giue thee a kisse, now praie thee
Loue staie
Petr. Is not this well? come my sweete Kate.
Better once then neuer, for neuer to late.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Pedant, Lucentio, and
Bianca.
Tranio, Biondello Grumio, and Widdow: The Seruingmen with
Tranio bringing
in a Banquet.
Luc. At last, though long, our iarring notes agree,
And time it is when raging warre is come,
To smile at scapes and perils ouerblowne:
My faire Bianca bid my father welcome,
While I with selfesame kindnesse welcome thine:
Brother Petruchio, sister Katerina,
And thou Hortentio with thy louing Widdow:
Feast with the best, and welcome to my house,
My Banket is to close our stomakes vp
After our great good cheere: praie you sit downe,
For now we sit to chat as well as eate
Petr. Nothing but sit and sit, and eate and eate
Bap. Padua affords this kindnesse, sonne Petruchio
Petr. Padua affords nothing but what is kinde
Hor. For both our sakes I would that word were true
Pet. Now for my life Hortentio feares his Widow
Wid. Then neuer trust me if I be affeard
Petr. You are verie sencible, and yet you misse my
sence:
I meane Hortentio is afeard of you
Wid. He that is giddie thinks the world turns round
Petr. Roundlie replied
Kat. Mistris, how meane you that?
Wid. Thus I conceiue by him
Petr. Conceiues by me, how likes Hortentio that?
Hor. My Widdow saies, thus she conceiues her tale
Petr. Verie well mended: kisse him for that good
Widdow
Kat. He that is giddie thinkes the world turnes round,
I praie you tell me what you meant by that
Wid. Your housband being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husbands sorrow by his woe:
And now you know my meaning
Kate. A verie meane meaning
Wid. Right, I meane you
Kat. And I am meane indeede, respecting you
Petr. To her Kate
Hor. To her Widdow
Petr. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down
Hor. That's my office
Petr. Spoke like an Officer: ha to the lad.
Drinkes to Hortentio.
Bap. How likes Gremio these quicke witted folkes?
Gre. Beleeue me sir, they But together well
Bian. Head, and but an hastie witted bodie,
Would say your Head and But were head and horne
Vin. I Mistris Bride, hath that awakened you?
Bian. I, but not frighted me, therefore Ile sleepe againe
Petr. Nay that you shall not since you haue begun:
Haue at you for a better iest or too
Bian. Am I your Bird, I meane to shift my bush,
And then pursue me as you draw your Bow.
You are welcome all.
Exit Bianca.
Petr. She hath preuented me, here signior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not,
Therefore a health to all that shot and mist
Tri. Oh sir, Lucentio slipt me like his Gray-hound,
Which runs himselfe, and catches for his Master
Petr. A good swift simile, but something currish
Tra. 'Tis well sir that you hunted for your selfe:
'Tis thought your Deere does hold you at a baie
Bap. Oh, oh Petruchio, Tranio hits you now
Luc. I thanke thee for that gird good Tranio
Hor. Confesse, confesse, hath he not hit you here?
Petr. A has a little gald me I confesse:
And as the Iest did glaunce awaie from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you too out right
Bap. Now in good sadnesse sonne Petruchio,
I thinke thou hast the veriest shrew of all
Petr. Well, I say no: and therefore sir assurance,
Let's each one send vnto 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
Hort. Content, what's the wager?
Luc. Twentie crownes
Petr. Twentie crownes,
Ile venture so much of my Hawke or Hound,
But twentie times so much vpon my Wife
Luc. A hundred then
Hor. Content
Petr. A match, 'tis done
Hor. Who shall begin?
Luc. That will I.
Goe Biondello, bid your Mistris come to me
Bio. I goe.
Enter.
Bap. Sonne, Ile be your halfe, Bianca comes
Luc. Ile haue no halues: Ile beare it all my selfe.
Enter Biondello.
How now, what newes?
Bio. Sir, my Mistris sends you word
That she is busie, and she cannot come
Petr. How? she's busie, and she cannot come: is that
an answere?
Gre. I, and a kinde one too:
Praie God sir your wife send you not a worse
Petr. I hope better
Hor. Sirra Biondello, goe and intreate my wife to
come to me forthwith.
Exit. Bion.
Pet. Oh ho, intreate her, nay then shee must needes
come
Hor. I am affraid sir, doe what you can
Enter Biondello.
Yours will not be entreated: Now, where's my wife?
Bion. She saies you haue some goodly Iest in hand,
She will not come: she bids you come to her
Petr. Worse and worse, she will not come:
Oh vilde, intollerable, not to be indur'd:
Sirra Grumio, goe to your Mistris,
Say I command her come to me.
Enter.
Hor. I know her answere
Pet. What?
Hor. She will not
Petr. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Enter Katerina.
Bap. Now by my hollidam here comes Katerina
Kat. What is your will sir, that you send for me?
Petr. Where is your sister, and Hortensios wife?
Kate. They sit conferring by the Parler fire
Petr. Goe fetch them hither, if they denie to come,
Swinge me them soundly forth vnto their husbands:
Away I say, and bring them hither straight
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talke of a wonder
Hor. And so it is: I wonder what it boads
Petr. Marrie peace it boads, and loue, and quiet life,
An awfull rule, and right supremicie:
And to be short, what not, that's sweete and happie
Bap. Now faire befall thee good Petruchio;
The wager thou hast won, and I will adde
Vnto their losses twentie thousand crownes,
Another dowrie to another daughter,
For she is chang'd as she had neuer bin
Petr. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more signe of her obedience,
Her new built vertue and obedience.
Enter Kate, Bianca, and Widdow.
See where she comes, and brings your froward Wiues
As prisoners to her womanlie perswasion:
Katerine, that Cap of yours becomes you not,
Off with that bable, throw it vnderfoote
Wid. Lord let me neuer haue a cause to sigh,
Till I be brought to such a sillie passe
Bian. Fie what a foolish dutie call you this?
Luc. I would your dutie were as foolish too:
The wisdome of your dutie faire Bianca,
Hath cost me fiue hundred crownes since supper time
Bian. The more foole you for laying on my dutie
Pet. Katherine I charge thee tell these head-strong
women, what dutie they doe owe their Lords and husbands
Wid. Come, come, your mocking: we will haue no
telling
Pet. Come on I say, and first begin with her
Wid. She shall not
Pet. I say she shall, and first begin with her
Kate. Fie, fie, vnknit that threatning vnkinde brow,
And dart not scornefull glances from those eies,
To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Gouernour.
It blots thy beautie, as frosts doe bite the Meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlewinds shake faire budds,
And in no sence is meete or amiable.
A woman mou'd, is like a fountaine troubled,
Muddie, ill seeming, thicke, bereft of beautie,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirstie
Will daigne to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy Lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy soueraigne: One that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance. Commits his body
To painfull labour, both by sea and land:
To watch the night in stormes, the day in cold,
Whil'st thou ly'st warme at home, secure and safe,
And craues no other tribute at thy hands,
But loue, faire lookes, and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such dutie as the subiect owes the Prince,
Euen such a woman oweth to her husband:
And when she is froward, peeuish, sullen, sowre,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foule contending Rebell,
And gracelesse Traitor to her louing Lord?
I am asham'd that women are so simple,
To offer warre, where they should kneele for peace:
Or seeke for rule, supremacie, and sway,
When they are bound to serue, loue, and obay.
Why are our bodies soft, and weake, and smooth,
Vnapt to toyle and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our harts,
Should well agree with our externall parts?
Come, come, you froward and vnable wormes,
My minde hath bin as bigge as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haplie more,
To bandie word for word, and frowne for frowne;
But now I see our Launces are but strawes:
Our strength as weake, our weakenesse past compare,
That seeming to be most, which we indeed least are.
Then vale your stomackes, for it is no boote,
And place your hands below your husbands foote:
In token of which dutie, if he please,
My hand is readie, may it do him ease
Pet. Why there's a wench: Come on, and kisse mee
Kate
Luc. Well go thy waies olde Lad for thou shalt ha't
Vin. Tis a good hearing, when children are toward
Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are froward,
Pet. Come Kate, wee'le to bed,
We three are married, but you two are sped.
'Twas I wonne the wager, though you hit the white,
And being a winner, God giue you good night.
Exit Petruchio
Horten. Now goe thy wayes, thou hast tam'd a curst
Shrow
Luc. Tis a wonder, by your leaue, she wil be tam'd so.
FINIS. THE Taming of the Shrew.
All's Well, that Ends Well
Actus primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter yong Bertram Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and Helena,
Lord
Lafew, all in blacke.
Mother. In deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a second
husband
Ros. And I in going Madam, weep ore my
fathers death anew; but I must attend his maiesties
command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore
in subiection
Laf. You shall find of the King a husband Madame,
you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good,
must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthinesse
would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack
it where there is such abundance
Mo. What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment?
Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vnder
whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope,
and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely
the loosing of hope by time
Mo. This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that
had, how sad a passage tis, whose skill was almost as
great as his honestie, had it stretch'd so far, would haue
made nature immortall, and death should haue play for
lacke of worke. Would for the Kings sake hee were liuing,
I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease
Laf. How call'd you the man you speake of Madam?
Mo. He was famous sir in his profession, and it was
his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon
Laf. He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very
latelie spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: hee
was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could
be set vp against mortallitie
Ros. What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes
of?
Laf. A Fistula my Lord
Ros. I heard not of it before
Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this Gentlewoman
the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
Mo. His sole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my
ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her
education promises her dispositions shee inherits, which
makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind carries
vertuous qualities, there commendations go with
pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are
the better for their simplenesse; she deriues her honestie,
and atcheeues her goodnesse
Lafew. Your commendations Madam get from her
teares
Mo. 'Tis the best brine a Maiden can season her praise
in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her
heart, but the tirrany of her sorrowes takes all liuelihood
from her cheeke. No more of this Helena, go too, no
more least it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, then
to haue-
Hell. I doe affect a sorrow indeed, but I haue it too
Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
excessiue greefe the enemie to the liuing
Mo. If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the excesse
makes it soone mortall
Ros. Maddam I desire your holie wishes
Laf. How vnderstand we that?
Mo. Be thou blest Bertrame, and succeed thy father
In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue
Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnesse
Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, trust a few,
Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie
Rather in power then vse: and keepe thy friend
Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for silence,
But neuer tax'd for speech. What heauen more wil,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe,
Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord,
'Tis an vnseason'd Courtier, good my Lord
Aduise him
Laf. He cannot want the best
That shall attend his loue
Mo. Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram
Ro. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts
be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your
Mistris, and make much of her
Laf. Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the credit
of your father
Hell. O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
And these great teares grace his remembrance more
Then those I shed for him. What was he like?
I haue forgott him. My imagination
Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams.
I am vndone, there is no liuing, none,
If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,
That I should loue a bright particuler starre,
And think to wed it, he is so aboue me
In his bright radience and colaterall light,
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere;
Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe:
The hind that would be mated by the Lion
Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague
To see him euerie houre to sit and draw
His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles
In our hearts table: heart too capeable
Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour.
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie
Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere?
Enter Parrolles.
One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake,
And yet I know him a notorious Liar,
Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward,
Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him,
That they take place, when Vertues steely bones
Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see
Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie
Par. Saue you faire Queene
Hel. And you Monarch
Par. No
Hel. And no
Par. Are you meditating on virginitie?
Hel. I: you haue some staine of souldier in you: Let
mee aske you a question. Man is enemie to virginitie,
how may we barracado it against him?
Par. Keepe him out
Hel. But he assailes, and our virginitie though valiant,
in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like
resistance
Par. There is none: Man setting downe before you,
will vndermine you, and blow you vp
Hel. Blesse our poore Virginity from vnderminers
and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Virgins
might blow vp men?
Par. Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will
quicklier be blowne vp: marry in blowing him downe
againe, with the breach your selues made, you lose your
Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of
Nature, to preserue virginity. Losse of Virginitie, is
rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till
virginitie was first lost. That you were made of, is mettall
to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once lost,
may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer
lost: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't
Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die
a Virgin
Par. There's little can bee saide in't, 'tis against the
rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is
to accuse your Mothers; which is most infallible disobedience.
He that hangs himselfe is a Virgin: Virginitie
murthers it selfe, and should be buried in highwayes
out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate Offendresse against
Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a
Cheese, consumes it selfe to the very payring, and so
dies with feeding his owne stomacke. Besides, Virginitie
is peeuish, proud, ydle, made of selfe-loue, which
is the most inhibited sinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not,
you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within
ten yeare it will make it selfe two, which is a goodly increase,
and the principall it selfe not much the worse.
Away with't