Kath. He that is giddy thinks the world turns round: I pray you, tell me what you meant by that. Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a shrew, Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe. And now you know my meaning. Kath. A very mean meaning. Wid. Kath. Right, I mean you. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you. Pet. To her, Kate! Hor. To her, widow! Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down. Hor. That's my office. Pet. Spoke like an officer : - Ha' to thee, lad. [Drinks to HORTENSIO. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? Gre. Believe me, Sir, they butt together well. Bian. Head and butt? an hasty-witted body Would say, your head and butt were head and horn. Vin. Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you? Bian. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore, I'll sleep again. Pet. Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun, Have at you for a better jest or two. Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush, And then pursue me as you draw your bow. You are welcome all. [Exeunt BIANCA, KATHARINA, and Widow. Here, signior Tranio; Pet. She hath prevented me. This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not: Tra. O Sir! Lucentio slipp'd me, like his greyhound, Pet. A good swift simile, but something currish. Pet. '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. Bap. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio, I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all. Pet. 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, Pet. Twenty crowns! I'll venture so much of my hawk, or hound, Luc. A hundred then. Twenty crowns. Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me. Bion. I go. Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. Re-enter BIONDELLO. How now! what news? Bion. Sir, my mistress sends you word, That she is busy, and she cannot come. Pet. How! she is busy, and she cannot come! Is that an answer? Pray God, Sir, your wife send you not a worse. Pet. I hope better. Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go, and entreat my wife To come to me forthwith. [Exit. [Exit BIONDELLO. Pet. Oho! entreat her! I am afraid, Sir, Nay, then she must needs come. Hor. Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. Re-enter BIONDELLO. Now, where 's my wife? Bion. She says, you have some goodly jest in hand; She will not come: she bids you come to her. Pet. Worse and worse: she will not come? O vile! Intolerable, not to be endur'd! Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress; say, I command her come to me. Hor. I know her answer. [Exit GRUMIO, Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. Enter KATHARINA. Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina! [Exit KATHARINA. Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy. The wager thou hast won; and I will add Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet, And show more sign of her obedience, Her new-built virtue and obedience. Re-enter KATHARINA, with BIANCA and Widow. See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not; Off with that bauble, throw it under foot. [KATHARINA pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord! let me never have a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a silly pass! Bian. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this? Bian. The more fool you for laying on my duty. Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you 're mocking: we will have 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. Kath. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow, A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled, Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign: one that cares for thee, To painful labour, both by sea and land, To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, What is she but a foul contending rebel, But that our soft conditions, and our hearts, And place your hands below your husband's foot: My hand is ready, may it do him ease. Kate. Come on, and kiss me, Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't. We three are married, but you two are sped. |