William Shakespeare : Complete Collection (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry...). William Shakespeare
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Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
Pet.
How but well, sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.
Bap.
Why, how now, daughter Katherine, in your dumps?
Kath.
Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
You have show’d a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pet.
Father, ’tis thus: yourself and all the world,
That talk’d of her, have talk’d amiss of her.
If she be curst, it is for policy,
For she’s not froward, but modest as the dove;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity;
And to conclude, we have ’greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
Kath.
I’ll see thee hang’d on Sunday first.
Gre.
Hark, Petruchio, she says she’ll see thee hang’d first.
Tra.
Is this your speeding? Nay then good night our part!
Pet.
Be patient, gentlemen, I choose her for myself.
If she and I be pleas’d, 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 Katherine shall be fine.
Bap.
I know not what to say, but give me your hands.
God send you joy, Petruchio, ’tis a match.
Gre., Tra.
Amen, say we. We will be witnesses.
Pet.
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 a’ Sunday.
Exeunt Petruchio and Katherine [severally].
Gre.
Was ever match clapp’d up so suddenly?
Bap.
Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant’s part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.
Tra.
’Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
’Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
Bap.
The gain I seek is, quiet [in] the match.
Gre.
No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter;
Now is the day we long have looked for.
I am your neighbor, and was suitor first.
Tra.
And I am one that love Bianca more
Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
Gre.
Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
Tra.
Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.
Gre.
But thine doth fry.
Skipper, stand back, ’tis age that nourisheth.
Tra.
But youth in ladies’ eyes that flourisheth.
Bap.
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?
Gre.
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,
Valens of Venice gold in needle-work;
Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
To house or house-keeping. Then at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
And all things answerable to this portion.
Myself am strook in years, I must confess,
And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
If whilst I live she will be only mine.
Tra.
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