William Shakespeare

The Complete Works of Shakespeare


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how she’s like to be Lucentio’s wife.

       [Exit Lucentio.]

       Bion.

      I pray the gods she may with all my heart!

       Tra.

      Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.

       Exit [Biondello].

       Enter Peter, [a servant, who whispers to Tranio].

      Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?

      Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer.

      Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa.

       Bap.

      I follow you.

       Exeunt.

       Enter Lucentio [as Cambio] and Biondello.

      Bion. Cambio!

      Luc. What say’st thou, Biondello?

      Bion. You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?

      Luc. Biondello, what of that?

      Bion. Faith, nothing; but h’as left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.

      Luc. I pray thee moralize them.

      Bion. Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.

      Luc. And what of him?

      Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.

      Luc. And then?

      Bion. The old priest of Saint Luke’s church is at your command at all hours.

      Luc. And what of all this?

      Bion. I cannot tell, [except] they are busied about a counterfeit assurance. Take you assurance of her, cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum; to th’ church take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses.

      If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say,

      But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

       Luc.

      Hear’st thou, Biondello?

      Bion. I cannot tarry. I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit, and so may you, sir. And so adieu, sir; my master hath appointed me to go to Saint Luke’s to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix.

       Exit.

       Luc.

      I may and will, if she be so contented.

      She will be pleas’d, then wherefore should I doubt?

      Hap what hap may, I’ll roundly go about her;

      It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.

       Exit.

       ¶

       Enter Petruchio, Kate, Hortensio, [and Servants].

       Pet.

      Come on a’ God’s name, once more toward our father’s.

      Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!

       Kath.

      The moon! the sun—it is not moonlight now.

       Pet.

      I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

       Kath.

      I know it is the sun that shines so bright.

       Pet.

      Now by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,

      It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,

      Or ere I journey to your father’s house.—

      Go on, and fetch our horses back again.—

      Evermore cross’d and cross’d, nothing but cross’d!

       Hor.

      Say as he says, or we shall never go.

       Kath.

      Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,

      And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;

      And if you please to call it a rush-candle,

      Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

       Pet.

      I say it is the moon.

       Kath.

      I know it is the moon.

       Pet.

      Nay then you lie; it is the blessed sun.

       Kath.

      Then God be blest, it [is] the blessed sun,

      But sun it is not, when you say it is not;

      And the moon changes even as your mind.

      What you will have it nam’d, even that it is,

      And so it shall be so for Katherine.

       Hor.

      Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won.

       Pet.

      Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl should run,

      And not unluckily against the bias.

      But soft, company is coming here.

       Enter Vincentio.

       [To Vincentio.]

      Good morrow, gentle mistress, where away?

      Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,

      Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?

      Such war of white and red within her cheeks!

      What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,

      As those two eyes become that heavenly face?

      Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.

      Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty’s sake.

       Hor.

      ’A will make the man mad, to make [a] woman of him.

       Kath.

      Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet,

      Whither away, or [where] is thy abode?

      Happy the parents of so fair a child!

      Happier the man whom favorable stars

      Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow!

       Pet.

      Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad.

      This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,

      And not a maiden, as thou say’st he is.