The Taming of the Shrew Page #4

Of all things living, a man's the worst.

I tell you 'tis incredible to believe

How much she loves me.

I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

O, my sweet Katharina. 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. 'Ris a world to see,

When she and I are both alone,

How tame a milksop wretch

can make the cursest shrew.

Of all things living, a man's the worst.

Petruchio!

Father and friends... Father and friends, adieu.

I will to Venice

To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.

We will have rings, and things, and fine array,

And... kiss me, Kate,

we will be married o' Sunday.

Ring-a-ding ring-a-ding

Hark to the steeple ringing

Ring-a-ding ring-a-ding

Ding-dong bell

Signor Baptista!

Katharina?

Daughter?

Child!

Katharina!

Katharina!

Please!

Child!

Daughter!

Petruchio is coming.

What will be said?

What mockery will it be to lack the bridegroom

When the priest attends

To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!

What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

No shame but mine.

Now must the world point at poor Katharina,

And say...

Mad Petruchio's wife,

If it would please him come and marry her.

Petruchio is coming! Petruchio is coming!

Petruchio is coming! Petruchio is coming!

In an old hat and an old jerkin;

a pair of old breeches thrice turned;

with an old mothy saddle

and stirrups of different families.

How does my father?

Good morrow, gentles.

Gentles, methinks you frown.

And wherefore gaze this goodly company,

As if they saw some wondrous monument,

Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Fie, doff this habit, shame on your estate,

An eyesore to our solemn festival!

What, will you be married to my daughter thus?

Good sooth, even thus.

Therefore ha' done with words;

To me she's married, not unto my clothes.

But what a fool I am to chat with you,

When I should bid good morrow to my bride,

And seal the title with a lovely kiss.

Nay, by God's wounds.

Petruchio.

Petruchio!

Petruchio,

Wilt thou take Katharina

To be thy lawful wedded wife?

I...

Petruchio,

Wilt thou take Katharina

To be thy lawful wedded wife?

The ring.

The ring.

The ring...

The ring...

Petruchio, wilt thou take Katharina

To be thy lawful wedded wife?

Marry I will!

Katharina...

Katharina,

Wilt thou take Petruchio

To be thy lawful wedded husband?

I will n...

No!

Father...

Fall to, good people.

Eat and drink your fill.

Please.

Gentlemen and friends,

I thank you for your pains.

I know you think to dine with me today,

And have prepar'd

great store of wedding cheer,

But so it is, business doth call me hence,

And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

Is't possible you will away tonight?

I must away today before night comes.

Make it no wonder. lf you knew my business,

You would entreat me rather go than stay.

And honest company, I thank you all

That have beheld me give myself away

To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.

Dine with my father, drink a health to me,

For I must hence, and farewell to you all.

- Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.

- It may not be.

- Let me entreat you.

- It cannot be.

Let me entreat you.

I am content.

Are you content to stay?

I am content you should entreat me stay;

But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.

- Grumio, my horses.

- Ay, sir, they be ready.

Nay then,

Do what thou canst, I will not go today,

No, nor tomorrow, till I please myself.

The door is open, sir, there lies the way,

You may be jogging till your boots are green.

For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.

- Daughter, content ye, prithee be not angry.

- I will be angry; what hast thou to do?

Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.

Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.

I see a woman may be made a fool

If she had not the spirit to resist.

They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.

Obey the bride, you that attend on her.

Go to the feast, revel and domineer,

Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,

Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.

But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.

Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;

I will be master of what is mine own.

She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,

My household stuff, my field, my barn,

My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing,

And here she stands.

Touch her whoever dares!

I'll bring mine action on the proudest he

That stops my way in Padua.

Grumio, draw forth thy weapon,

we are beset with thieves,

Rescue thy mistress if thou be'est a man.

Fear not, sweet wench,

they shall not touch thee, Kate.

I'll buckler thee against a million.

Father! Father!

- Petruchio...

- Father!

O, go hang yourselves!

You foul, loathsome swine.

A pox on thee.

Come up. Hup! Hup! Hup!

Had they not gone quickly,

I should have died with laughing.

Of all mad matches never was the like.

- Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?

- That being mad herself, she's madly mated.

I warrant you, Petruchio is Kated.

Come, Kate. Come, Kate.

Forward, Kate, forward.

- You fool!

- Follow me, Kate, if thou be not too feeble.

Come, Kate.

..wed to one half lunatic,

A madcap ruffian...

Hey, master!

- Hup, there.

- A pox on thee!

Master!

Where be these knaves? What, no man at door

To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?

Gregory? Philip?

Nathaniel? Curtis?

Gold.

More. More.

Where is the life where is the life

That late I led?

Where is the life that late I led?

It's gone it's gone

It's gone it's gone it's gone

It's gone

Sit down, Kate, and welcome.

You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!

What, no attendance? No regard? No duty?

You peasant swain!

You whoreson malt-horse drudge!

Did not I bid thee ride ahead posthaste,

And have all things made proper

for thy mistress?

Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not ready made,

And Gregory's pumps

were all unpink'd i' th' heel;

And Philip's dagger was not fully sheath'd.

Yet, as they are,

here are they come to serve you.

Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.

Go, rascals, go.

Go!

Food!

Food!

Give me a chicken!

Food!

Food!

Food, food, food!

Food!

Where be these knaves?

All things is ready.

Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.

Be merry, Kate.

Some water here. What ho! Water.

Water!

Shall I have some water?

- Water.

- Water.

Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.

A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!

Come, Kate, sit down,

I know you have a stomach.

Shall you give thanks, good Kate,

or else shall I?

- Amen.

- Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

- Amen.

- Amen!

What's this? Chicken?

Ay.

- Who brought it?

- I.

I? I?

'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat.

What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?

How durst thou, villains,

bring it from the dresser

And serve it thus to me who loves it not?

Here, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.

I pray you, husband,

be not so disquiet.

The meat was well,

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