SCENE I. Padua. A room in BAPTISTA'S house.
[Enter KATHERINA and BIANCA.]
Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me;
That I disdain; but for these other gawds,
Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself,
Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
Or what you will command me will I do,
So well I know my duty to my elders.
Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
Whom thou lov'st best: see thou dissemble not.
Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
I never yet beheld that special face
Which I could fancy more than any other.
Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?
If you affect him, sister, here I swear
I'll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
O! then, belike, you fancy riches more:
You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
Is it for him you do envy me so?
Nay, then you jest; and now I well perceive
You have but jested with me all this while:
I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
If that be jest, then an the rest was so.
Why, how now, dame! Whence grows this insolence?
Bianca, stand aside. Poor girl! she weeps.
Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd.
[Flies after BIANCA.]
What! in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
What! will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,
And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep
Till I can find occasion of revenge.
BAPTISTA. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I?
But who comes here?
[Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man;
PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO, with
BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books.]
Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen!
And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?
I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katherina.
You are too blunt: go to it orderly.
You wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.
I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine,
Cunning in music and the mathematics,
To instruct her fully in those sciences,
Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
You're welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
I see you do not mean to part with her;
Or else you like not of my company.
Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son;
A man well known throughout all Italy.
I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.
Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too.
Backare! you are marvellous forward.
O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.
I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.
Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To
express the like kindness, myself, that have been more kindly
beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young
that has been long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek,
Latin, and other languages, as the other in music and
mathematics. His name is Cambio; pray accept his service.
A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio; welcome, good Cambio. —
But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger: may
I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?