The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare
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‘With a small compassed cape.’
GRUMIO.
I confess the cape.
TAILOR.
‘With a trunk sleeve.’
GRUMIO.
I confess two sleeves.
TAILOR.
‘The sleeves curiously cut.’
PETRUCHIO.
Ay, there’s the villainy.
GRUMIO. Error i’ the bill, sir; error i’ the bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out, and sew’d 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.
[Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
[To Tailor.] Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
HORTENSIO.
[Aside to Tailor.] Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow;
Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
Away, I say! commend me to thy master.
[Exit TAILOR.]
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 feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
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.
KATHERINA.
I dare assure you, sir, ‘tis almost two,
And ‘twill be suppertime 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.
Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. Padua. Before BAPTISTA’S house.
[Enter TRANIO, and the PEDANT dressed like VINCENTIO.]
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,
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.
[Enter BIONDELLO.]
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.
[Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO.]
Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
[To the PEDANT] 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