William Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew in the complete original text.
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The Taming of the Shrew

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Act IV. Scene I.

Act IV. Scene I.—A Hall in PETRUCHIO'S
Country House.

Enter GRUMIO.

Gru. Fie, fie, on all tired jades, on all mad
masters, and all foul ways! Was ever man so
beaten? was ever man so rayed? was ever man
so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and
they are coming after to warm them. Now,
were not I a little pot and soon hot, my very
lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to
the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly,
ere I should come by a fire to thaw me; but I,
with blowing the fire, shall warm myself; for,
considering the weather, a taller man than I will
take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis.

Enter CURTIS.
Curt. Who is that calls so coldly?
Gru. A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou
mayst slide from my shoulder to my heel with
no greater a run but my head and my neck. A
fire, good Curtis.
Curt. Is my master and his wife coming,
Grumio?
Gru. O! ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore fire,
fire; cast on no water.
Curt. Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
Gru. She was, good Curtis, before this frost;
but, thou knowest, winter tames man, woman,
and beast; for it hath tamed my old master, and
my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.
Curt. Away, you three-inch-fool! I am no
beast.
Gru. Am I but three inches? why, thy horn
is a foot; and so long am I at the least. But
wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain on
thee to our mistress, whose hand,—she being now
at hand,—thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold com-
fort, for being slow in thy hot office?
Curt. I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how
goes the world?
Gru. A cold world, Curtis, in every office but
thine; and therefore, fire. Do thy duty, and
have thy duty, for my master and mistress are
almost frozen to death.
Curt. There's fire ready; and therefore, good
Grumio, the news?
Gru. Why, 'Jack, boy! ho, boy!' and as much
news as thou wilt.
Curt. Come, you are so full of cony-catching.
Gru. Why therefore fire: for I have caught
extreme cold. Where's the cook? is supper
ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cob-
webs swept; the serving-men in their new fus-
tian, their white stockings, and every officer his
wedding-garment on? Be the Jacks fair within,
the Jills fair without, and carpets laid, and every-
thing in order?
Curt. All ready; and therefore, I pray thee,
news?
Gru. First, know, my horse is tired; my
master and mistress fallen out.
Curt. How?
Gru. Out of their saddles into the dirt; and
thereby hangs a tale.
Curt. Let's ha't, good Grumio.
Gru. Lend thine ear.
Curt. Here.
Gru. [Striking him.] There.
Curt. This is to feel a tale not to hear a tale.
Gru. And therefore it is called a sensible tale;
and this cuff was but to knock at your ear and
beseech listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we
came down a foul hill, my master riding behind
my mistress,—
Curt. Both of one horse?
Gru. What's that to thee?
Curt. Why, a horse.
Gru. Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not
crossed me thou shouldst have heard how her
horse fell, and she under her horse; thou shouldst
have heard in how miry a place, how she was be-
moiled; how he left her with the horse upon
her; how he beat me because her horse stum-
bled; how she waded through the dirt to pluck
him off me: how he swore; how she prayed, that
never prayed before; how I cried; how the horses
ran away; how her bridle was burst; how I lost
my crupper; with many things of worthy
memory, which now shall die in oblivion, and
thou return unexperienced to thy grave.
Curt. By this reckoning he is more shrew
than she.
Gru. Ay; and that, thou and the proudest of
you all shall find when he comes home. But
what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph,
Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the rest:
let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats
brushed, and their garters of an indifferent knit:
let them curtsy with their left legs, and not pre-
sume to touch a hair of my master's horsetail
till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready.
Curt. They are.
Gru. Call them forth.
Curt. Do you hear? ho! you must meet my
master to countenance my mistress.
Gru. Why, she hath a face of her own.
Curt. Who knows not that?
Gru. Thou, it seems, that callest for company
to countenance her.
Curt. I call them forth to credit her.
Gru. Why, she comes to borrow nothing of
them.

Enter several Servants.
Nath. Welcome home, Grumio!
Phil. How now, Grumio?
Jos. What, Grumio!
Nich. Fellow Grumio!
Nath. How now, old lad!
Gru. Welcome, you; how now, you; what,
you; fellow, you; and thus much for greeting.
Now, my spruce companions, is all ready, and all
things neat?
Nath. All things is ready. How near is our
master?
Gru. E'en at hand, alighted by this; and
therefore be not,—Cock's passion, silence! I hear
my master.

Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA.
Pet. Where be these knaves? What! no man
at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?—
All Serv. Here, here, sir; here, sir.
Pet. Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
Gru. Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
Pet. You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-
horse drudge!
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
Gru. Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the
heel,
There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
And Walter's dagger was not come from sheath-
ing,
There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and
Gregory;
The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
Pet. Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
[Exeunt some of the Servants.
Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those—? Sit down, Kate, and welcome.
Soud, soud, soud, soud!

Re-enter Servants with supper.
Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be
merry.—
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains!
When?
It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way:
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
[Strikes him.
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you
hence
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
[Exit Servant.
One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted
with.
Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.—
[Servant lets the ewer fall. PETRUCHIO
strikes him.
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
Kath. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault un-
willing.
Pet. A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd
knave!
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a
stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?—
that's this? mutton?
First Serv. Ay.
Pet. Who brought it?
First Serv. I.
Pet. 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
And serve it thus to me that love it not?
[Throws the meat, &c. at them.
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all.
You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
What! do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
Kath. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:
The meat was well if you were so contented.
Pet. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried
away;
And I expressly am forbid to touch it,
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; to-morrow't shall be mended,
And for this night we'll fast for company:
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and CURTIS.
Nath. Peter, didst ever see the like?
Peter. He kills her in her own humour.

Re-enter CURTIS.
Gru. Where is he?
Curt. In her chamber, making a sermon of
continency to her;
And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor
soul,
Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
And sits as one new-risen from a dream.
Away, away! for he is coming hither. [Exeunt.

Re-enter PETRUCHIO.
Pet. Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty,
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come and know her keeper's call;
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
That bate and beat and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall
not:
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
I'll find about the making of the bed;
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets:
Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
That all is done in reverend care of her;
And in conclusion she shall watch all night:
And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl,
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong
humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak: 'tis charity to show. [Exit.
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