The Taming of the Shrew By William Shakespeare Act IV: Scene 1

What, Grumio!

Fellow Grumio!

How now, old lad!

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?

All things is ready. How near is our master?

E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not, —
Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.


Where be these knaves? What! no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip? —

Here, here, sir; here, sir.

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?

Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

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?

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 sheathing;
There was 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.

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:


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?

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.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I? —
What's this? Mutton?


Who brought it?


'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, etc., 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.

I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
The meat was well, if you were so contented.

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.


Peter, didst ever see the like?

He kills her in her own humour.

[Re-enter CURTIS.]

Where is he?

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.


[Re-enter PETRUCHIO.]

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.


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Bartholomew, the page disguised as Sly’s wife, says she cannot sleep with Sly because