Update: train/validation/test splits, script riddance, readme fix

README.md

@@ -7,43 +7,51 @@ dataset_info:
     dtype: string
   splits:
   - name: test
-    num_bytes: 55780
+    num_bytes: 55770
     num_examples: 1
   - name: train
-    num_bytes: 1003864
+    num_bytes: 1003854
     num_examples: 1
   - name: validation
-    num_bytes: 55780
+    num_bytes: 55770
     num_examples: 1
   download_size: 1115394
-  dataset_size: 1115424
+  dataset_size: 1115394
 ---
 
 # Dataset Card for "tiny_shakespeare"
 
 ## Table of Contents
-- [Dataset Description](#dataset-description)
-  - [Dataset Summary](#dataset-summary)
-  - [Supported Tasks and Leaderboards](#supported-tasks-and-leaderboards)
-  - [Languages](#languages)
-- [Dataset Structure](#dataset-structure)
-  - [Data Instances](#data-instances)
-  - [Data Fields](#data-fields)
-  - [Data Splits](#data-splits)
-- [Dataset Creation](#dataset-creation)
-  - [Curation Rationale](#curation-rationale)
-  - [Source Data](#source-data)
-  - [Annotations](#annotations)
-  - [Personal and Sensitive Information](#personal-and-sensitive-information)
-- [Considerations for Using the Data](#considerations-for-using-the-data)
-  - [Social Impact of Dataset](#social-impact-of-dataset)
-  - [Discussion of Biases](#discussion-of-biases)
-  - [Other Known Limitations](#other-known-limitations)
-- [Additional Information](#additional-information)
-  - [Dataset Curators](#dataset-curators)
-  - [Licensing Information](#licensing-information)
-  - [Citation Information](#citation-information)
-  - [Contributions](#contributions)
+- [Dataset Card for "tiny\_shakespeare"](#dataset-card-for-tiny_shakespeare)
+  - [Table of Contents](#table-of-contents)
+  - [Dataset Description](#dataset-description)
+    - [Dataset Summary](#dataset-summary)
+    - [Supported Tasks and Leaderboards](#supported-tasks-and-leaderboards)
+    - [Languages](#languages)
+  - [Dataset Structure](#dataset-structure)
+    - [Data Instances](#data-instances)
+      - [default](#default)
+    - [Data Fields](#data-fields)
+      - [default](#default-1)
+    - [Data Splits](#data-splits)
+  - [Dataset Creation](#dataset-creation)
+    - [Curation Rationale](#curation-rationale)
+    - [Source Data](#source-data)
+      - [Initial Data Collection and Normalization](#initial-data-collection-and-normalization)
+      - [Who are the source language producers?](#who-are-the-source-language-producers)
+    - [Annotations](#annotations)
+      - [Annotation process](#annotation-process)
+      - [Who are the annotators?](#who-are-the-annotators)
+    - [Personal and Sensitive Information](#personal-and-sensitive-information)
+  - [Considerations for Using the Data](#considerations-for-using-the-data)
+    - [Social Impact of Dataset](#social-impact-of-dataset)
+    - [Discussion of Biases](#discussion-of-biases)
+    - [Other Known Limitations](#other-known-limitations)
+  - [Additional Information](#additional-information)
+    - [Dataset Curators](#dataset-curators)
+    - [Licensing Information](#licensing-information)
+    - [Citation Information](#citation-information)
+    - [Contributions](#contributions)
 
 ## Dataset Description
 
@@ -61,8 +69,8 @@ dataset_info:
 
 To use for e.g. character modelling:
 
-```
-d = datasets.load_dataset(name='tiny_shakespeare')['train']
+```python
+d = datasets.load_dataset(name='tiny_shakespeare', sample_by="document")['train']
 d = d.map(lambda x: datasets.Value('strings').unicode_split(x['text'], 'UTF-8'))
 # train split includes vocabulary for other splits
 vocabulary = sorted(set(next(iter(d)).numpy()))

test.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,2333 @@
+rance ta'en
+As shall with either part's agreement stand?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know,
+Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants:
+Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still;
+And happily we might be interrupted.
+
+TRANIO:
+Then at my lodging, an it like you:
+There doth my father lie; and there, this night,
+We'll pass the business privately and well.
+Send for your daughter by your servant here:
+My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
+The worst is this, that, at so slender warning,
+You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+It likes me well. Biondello, hie you home,
+And bid Bianca make her ready straight;
+And, if you will, tell what hath happened,
+Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua,
+And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+I pray the gods she may with all my heart!
+
+TRANIO:
+Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
+Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
+Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer:
+Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I follow you.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Cambio!
+
+LUCENTIO:
+What sayest thou, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Biondello, what of that?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to
+expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I pray thee, moralize them.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the
+deceiving father of a deceitful son.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+And what of him?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+And then?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+The old priest of Saint Luke's church is at your
+command at all hours.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+And what of all this?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a
+counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her,
+'cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum:' to the
+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.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Hearest thou, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+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.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I may, and will, if she be so contented:
+She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt?
+Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:
+It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's.
+Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
+
+KATHARINA:
+The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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!
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Say as he says, or we shall never go.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
+And be it moon, or sun, or what you please:
+An if you please to call it a rush-candle,
+Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I say it is the moon.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I know it is the moon.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Then, God be bless'd, 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 named, even that it is;
+And so it shall be so for Katharina.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
+And not unluckily against the bias.
+But, soft! company is coming here.
+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.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
+
+KATHARINA:
+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 favourable stars
+Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
+This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
+And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
+That have been so bedazzled with the sun
+That everything I look on seemeth green:
+Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
+Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known
+Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
+We shall be joyful of thy company.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
+That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
+My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa;
+And bound I am to Padua; there to visit
+A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+What is his name?
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Lucentio, gentle sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Happily we met; the happier for thy son.
+And now by law, as well as reverend age,
+I may entitle thee my loving father:
+The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
+Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
+Nor be grieved: she is of good esteem,
+Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth;
+Beside, so qualified as may beseem
+The spouse of any noble gentleman.
+Let me embrace with old Vincentio,
+And wander we to see thy honest son,
+Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+But is it true? or else is it your pleasure,
+Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
+Upon the company you overtake?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+I do assure thee, father, so it is.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
+For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
+Have to my widow! and if she be froward,
+Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee
+at home; therefore leave us.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and
+then come back to my master's as soon as I can.
+
+GREMIO:
+I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house:
+My father's bears more toward the market-place;
+Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+You shall not choose but drink before you go:
+I think I shall command your welcome here,
+And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.
+
+GREMIO:
+They're busy within; you were best knock louder.
+
+Pedant:
+What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?
+
+Pedant:
+He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to
+make merry withal?
+
+Pedant:
+Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall
+need none, so long as I live.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua.
+Do you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances,
+I pray you, tell Signior Lucentio that his father is
+come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.
+
+Pedant:
+Thou liest: his father is come from Padua and here
+looking out at the window.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Art thou his father?
+
+Pedant:
+Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+
+Pedant:
+Lay hands on the villain: I believe a' means to
+cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+I have seen them in the church together: God send
+'em good shipping! But who is here? mine old
+master Vincentio! now we are undone and brought to nothing.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Hope I may choose, sir.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for I
+never saw you before in all my life.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see
+thy master's father, Vincentio?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir:
+see where he looks out of the window.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Is't so, indeed.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.
+
+Pedant:
+Help, son! help, Signior Baptista!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of
+this controversy.
+
+TRANIO:
+Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
+
+VINCENTIO:
+What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal
+gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet
+hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat! O, I
+am undone! I am undone! while I play the good
+husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at
+the university.
+
+TRANIO:
+How now! what's the matter?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+What, is the man lunatic?
+
+TRANIO:
+Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your
+habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir,
+what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I
+thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray, what do
+you think is his name?
+
+VINCENTIO:
+His name! as if I knew not his name: I have brought
+him up ever since he was three years old, and his
+name is Tranio.
+
+Pedant:
+Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio and he is
+mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vincentio.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold
+on him, I charge you, in the duke's name. O, my
+son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
+
+TRANIO:
+Call forth an officer.
+Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista,
+I charge you see that he be forthcoming.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Carry me to the gaol!
+
+GREMIO:
+Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to prison.
+
+GREMIO:
+Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be
+cony-catched in this business: I dare swear this
+is the right Vincentio.
+
+Pedant:
+Swear, if thou darest.
+
+GREMIO:
+Nay, I dare not swear it.
+
+TRANIO:
+Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
+
+GREMIO:
+Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Thus strangers may be hailed and abused: O
+monstrous villain!
+
+BIONDELLO:
+O! we are spoiled and--yonder he is: deny him,
+forswear him, or else we are all undone.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Lives my sweet son?
+
+BIANCA:
+Pardon, dear father.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+How hast thou offended?
+Where is Lucentio?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Here's Lucentio,
+Right son to the right Vincentio;
+That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
+While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
+
+GREMIO:
+Here's packing, with a witness to deceive us all!
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Where is that damned villain Tranio,
+That faced and braved me in this matter so?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
+
+BIANCA:
+Cambio is changed into Lucentio.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
+Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
+While he did bear my countenance in the town;
+And happily I have arrived at the last
+Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
+What Tranio did, myself enforced him to;
+Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent
+me to the gaol.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+But do you hear, sir? have you married my daughter
+without asking my good will?
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but
+I will in, to be revenged for this villany.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
+
+GREMIO:
+My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest,
+Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
+
+KATHARINA:
+What, in the midst of the street?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+What, art thou ashamed of me?
+
+KATHARINA:
+No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
+Better once than never, for never too late.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
+And time it is, when raging war is done,
+To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
+My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
+While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.
+Brother Petruchio, sister Katharina,
+And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
+Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
+My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
+After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
+For now we sit to chat as well as eat.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+For both our sakes, I would that word were true.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
+
+Widow:
+Then never trust me, if I be afeard.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
+I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you.
+
+Widow:
+He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Roundly replied.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Mistress, how mean you that?
+
+Widow:
+Thus I conceive by him.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+My widow says, thus she conceives her tale.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.
+
+KATHARINA:
+'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:'
+I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.
+
+Widow:
+Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
+Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe:
+And now you know my meaning,
+
+KATHARINA:
+A very mean meaning.
+
+Widow:
+Right, I mean you.
+
+KATHARINA:
+And I am mean indeed, respecting you.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+To her, Kate!
+
+HORTENSIO:
+To her, widow!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+That's my office.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Spoke like an officer; ha' to thee, lad!
+
+BAPTISTA:
+How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
+
+GREMIO:
+Believe me, sir, they butt together well.
+
+BIANCA:
+Head, and butt! an hasty-witted body
+Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you?
+
+BIANCA:
+Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, that you shall not: since you have begun,
+Have at you for a bitter jest or two!
+
+BIANCA:
+Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush;
+And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
+You are welcome all.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio.
+This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
+Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.
+
+TRANIO:
+O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
+Which runs himself and catches for his master.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A good swift simile, but something currish.
+
+TRANIO:
+'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself:
+'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A' has a little gall'd me, I confess;
+And, as the jest did glance away from me,
+'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
+I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Well, I say no: and therefore for assurance
+Let's each one send unto his wife;
+And he whose wife is most obedient
+To come at first when he doth send for her,
+Shall win the wager which we will propose.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Content. What is the wager?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Twenty crowns.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Twenty crowns!
+I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
+But twenty times so much upon my wife.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+A hundred then.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Content.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A match! 'tis done.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Who shall begin?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+That will I.
+Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+I go.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.
+How now! what news?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Sir, my mistress sends you word
+That she is busy and she cannot come.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+How! she is busy and she cannot come!
+Is that an answer?
+
+GREMIO:
+Ay, and a kind one too:
+Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I hope better.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
+To come to me forthwith.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+O, ho! entreat her!
+Nay, then she must needs come.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+I am afraid, sir,
+Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
+Now, where's my wife?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
+She will not come: she bids you come to her.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
+Intolerable, not to be endured!
+Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress;
+Say, I command her to come to me.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+I know her answer.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+What?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+She will not.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!
+
+KATHARINA:
+What is your will, sir, that you send for me?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?
+
+KATHARINA:
+They sit conferring by the parlor fire.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Go fetch them hither: if they deny to come.
+Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands:
+Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+And so it is: I wonder what it bodes.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Marry, peace it bodes, and love and quiet life,
+And awful rule and right supremacy;
+And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Now, fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
+The wager thou hast won; and I will add
+Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
+Another dowry to another daughter,
+For she is changed, as she had never been.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, I will win my wager better yet
+And show more sign of her obedience,
+Her new-built virtue and obedience.
+See where she comes and brings your froward wives
+As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
+Katharina, that cap of yours becomes you not:
+Off with that bauble, throw it under-foot.
+
+Widow:
+Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh,
+Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
+
+BIANCA:
+Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I would your duty were as foolish too:
+The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
+Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time.
+
+BIANCA:
+The more fool you, for laying on my duty.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Katharina, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
+What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
+
+Widow:
+Come, come, you're mocking: we will have no telling.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
+
+Widow:
+She shall not.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I say she shall: and first begin with her.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
+And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
+To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
+It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
+Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
+And in no sense is meet or amiable.
+A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
+Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
+And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
+Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
+Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
+Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
+And for thy maintenance commits his body
+To painful labour both by sea and land,
+To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
+Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
+And craves no other tribute at thy hands
+But love, fair looks and true obedience;
+Too little payment for so great a debt.
+Such duty as the subject owes the prince
+Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
+And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
+And not obedient to his honest will,
+What is she but a foul contending rebel
+And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
+I am ashamed that women are so simple
+To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
+Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
+When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
+Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
+Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
+But that our soft conditions and our hearts
+Should well agree with our external parts?
+Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
+My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
+My heart as great, my reason haply more,
+To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
+But now I see our lances are but straws,
+Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
+That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
+Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
+And place your hands below your husband's foot:
+In token of which duty, if he please,
+My hand is ready; may it do him ease.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt ha't.
+
+VINCENTIO:
+'Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+But a harsh hearing when women are froward.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
+We three are married, but you two are sped.
+'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
+And, being a winner, God give you good night!
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Now, go thy ways; thou hast tamed a curst shrew.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
+
+Master:
+Boatswain!
+
+Boatswain:
+Here, master: what cheer?
+
+Master:
+Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
+or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
+
+Boatswain:
+Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
+yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
+master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
+if room enough!
+
+ALONSO:
+Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
+Play the men.
+
+Boatswain:
+I pray now, keep below.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Where is the master, boatswain?
+
+Boatswain:
+Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your
+cabins: you do assist the storm.
+
+GONZALO:
+Nay, good, be patient.
+
+Boatswain:
+When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers
+for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
+
+GONZALO:
+Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
+
+Boatswain:
+None that I more love than myself. You are a
+counsellor; if you can command these elements to
+silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
+not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
+cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
+yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
+the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
+of our way, I say.
+
+GONZALO:
+I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he
+hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
+perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his
+hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,
+for our own doth little advantage. If he be not
+born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
+
+Boatswain:
+Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring
+her to try with main-course.
+A plague upon this howling! they are louder than
+the weather or our office.
+Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er
+and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
+incharitable dog!
+
+Boatswain:
+Work you then.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
+We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
+
+GONZALO:
+I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were
+no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an
+unstanched wench.
+
+Boatswain:
+Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to
+sea again; lay her off.
+
+Mariners:
+All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
+
+Boatswain:
+What, must our mouths be cold?
+
+GONZALO:
+The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,
+For our case is as theirs.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+I'm out of patience.
+
+ANTONIO:
+We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
+This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning
+The washing of ten tides!
+
+GONZALO:
+He'll be hang'd yet,
+Though every drop of water swear against it
+And gape at widest to glut him.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Let's all sink with the king.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Let's take leave of him.
+
+GONZALO:
+Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an
+acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
+thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain
+die a dry death.
+
+MIRANDA:
+If by your art, my dearest father, you have
+Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
+The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
+But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
+Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
+With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
+Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
+Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
+Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
+Had I been any god of power, I would
+Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
+It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
+The fraughting souls within her.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Be collected:
+No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
+There's no harm done.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O, woe the day!
+
+PROSPERO:
+No harm.
+I have done nothing but in care of thee,
+Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
+Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
+Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
+Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
+And thy no greater father.
+
+MIRANDA:
+More to know
+Did never meddle with my thoughts.
+
+PROSPERO:
+'Tis time
+I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
+And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
+Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
+The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
+The very virtue of compassion in thee,
+I have with such provision in mine art
+So safely ordered that there is no soul--
+No, not so much perdition as an hair
+Betid to any creature in the vessel
+Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
+For thou must now know farther.
+
+MIRANDA:
+You have often
+Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
+And left me to a bootless inquisition,
+Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'
+
+PROSPERO:
+The hour's now come;
+The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
+Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
+A time before we came unto this cell?
+I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
+Out three years old.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Certainly, sir, I can.
+
+PROSPERO:
+By what? by any other house or person?
+Of any thing the image tell me that
+Hath kept with thy remembrance.
+
+MIRANDA:
+'Tis far off
+And rather like a dream than an assurance
+That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
+Four or five women once that tended me?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
+That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
+In the dark backward and abysm of time?
+If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
+How thou camest here thou mayst.
+
+MIRANDA:
+But that I do not.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
+Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
+A prince of power.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Sir, are not you my father?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
+She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
+Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir
+And princess no worse issued.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O the heavens!
+What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
+Or blessed was't we did?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Both, both, my girl:
+By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,
+But blessedly holp hither.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O, my heart bleeds
+To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
+Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
+
+PROSPERO:
+My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--
+I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should
+Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself
+Of all the world I loved and to him put
+The manage of my state; as at that time
+Through all the signories it was the first
+And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
+In dignity, and for the liberal arts
+Without a parallel; those being all my study,
+The government I cast upon my brother
+And to my state grew stranger, being transported
+And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--
+Dost thou attend me?
+
+MIRANDA:
+Sir, most heedfully.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Being once perfected how to grant suits,
+How to deny them, who to advance and who
+To trash for over-topping, new created
+The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
+Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
+Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
+To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
+The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
+And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O, good sir, I do.
+
+PROSPERO:
+I pray thee, mark me.
+I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
+To closeness and the bettering of my mind
+With that which, but by being so retired,
+O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
+Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
+Like a good parent, did beget of him
+A falsehood in its contrary as great
+As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
+A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
+Not only with what my revenue yielded,
+But what my power might else exact, like one
+Who having into truth, by telling of it,
+Made such a sinner of his memory,
+To credit his own lie, he did believe
+He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution
+And executing the outward face of royalty,
+With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--
+Dost thou hear?
+
+MIRANDA:
+Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
+
+PROSPERO:
+To have no screen between this part he play'd
+And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
+Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
+Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
+He thinks me now incapable; confederates--
+So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples
+To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
+Subject his coronet to his crown and bend
+The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--
+To most ignoble stooping.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O the heavens!
+
+PROSPERO:
+Mark his condition and the event; then tell me
+If this might be a brother.
+
+MIRANDA:
+I should sin
+To think but nobly of my grandmother:
+Good wombs have borne bad sons.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Now the condition.
+The King of Naples, being an enemy
+To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
+Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
+Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
+Should presently extirpate me and mine
+Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
+With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
+A treacherous army levied, one midnight
+Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
+The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,
+The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
+Me and thy crying self.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Alack, for pity!
+I, not remembering how I cried out then,
+Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
+That wrings mine eyes to't.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Hear a little further
+And then I'll bring thee to the present business
+Which now's upon's; without the which this story
+Were most impertinent.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Wherefore did they not
+That hour destroy us?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Well demanded, wench:
+My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
+So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
+A mark so bloody on the business, but
+With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
+In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
+Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
+A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
+Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
+Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
+To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
+To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
+Did us but loving wrong.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Alack, what trouble
+Was I then to you!
+
+PROSPERO:
+O, a cherubim
+Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.
+Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
+When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
+Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me
+An undergoing stomach, to bear up
+Against what should ensue.
+
+MIRANDA:
+How came we ashore?
+
+PROSPERO:
+By Providence divine.
+Some food we had and some fresh water that
+A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
+Out of his charity, being then appointed
+Master of this design, did give us, with
+Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
+Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
+Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
+From mine own library with volumes that
+I prize above my dukedom.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Would I might
+But ever see that man!
+
+PROSPERO:
+Now I arise:
+Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
+Here in this island we arrived; and here
+Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
+Than other princesses can that have more time
+For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
+For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
+For raising this sea-storm?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Know thus far forth.
+By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
+Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
+Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
+I find my zenith doth depend upon
+A most auspicious star, whose influence
+If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
+Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
+Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
+And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
+Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
+Approach, my Ariel, come.
+
+ARIEL:
+All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
+To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
+To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
+On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
+Ariel and all his quality.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Hast thou, spirit,
+Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
+
+ARIEL:
+To every article.
+I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
+Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
+I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
+And burn in many places; on the topmast,
+The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
+Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
+O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
+And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
+Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
+Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
+Yea, his dread trident shake.
+
+PROSPERO:
+My brave spirit!
+Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
+Would not infect his reason?
+
+ARIEL:
+Not a soul
+But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
+Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
+Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
+Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
+With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--
+Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty
+And all the devils are here.'
+
+PROSPERO:
+Why that's my spirit!
+But was not this nigh shore?
+
+ARIEL:
+Close by, my master.
+
+PROSPERO:
+But are they, Ariel, safe?
+
+ARIEL:
+Not a hair perish'd;
+On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
+But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
+In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
+The king's son have I landed by himself;
+Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
+In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
+His arms in this sad knot.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Of the king's ship
+The mariners say how thou hast disposed
+And all the rest o' the fleet.
+
+ARIEL:
+Safely in harbour
+Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
+Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
+From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
+The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
+Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
+I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet
+Which I dispersed, they all have met again
+And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
+Bound sadly home for Naples,
+Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
+And his great person perish.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Ariel, thy charge
+Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
+What is the time o' the day?
+
+ARIEL:
+Past the mid season.
+
+PROSPERO:
+At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
+Must by us both be spent most preciously.
+
+ARIEL:
+Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
+Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
+Which is not yet perform'd me.
+
+PROSPERO:
+How now? moody?
+What is't thou canst demand?
+
+ARIEL:
+My liberty.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Before the time be out? no more!
+
+ARIEL:
+I prithee,
+Remember I have done thee worthy service;
+Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
+Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
+To bate me a full year.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Dost thou forget
+From what a torment I did free thee?
+
+ARIEL:
+No.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
+Of the salt deep,
+To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
+To do me business in the veins o' the earth
+When it is baked with frost.
+
+ARIEL:
+I do not, sir.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
+The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
+Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
+
+ARIEL:
+No, sir.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
+
+ARIEL:
+Sir, in Argier.
+
+PROSPERO:
+O, was she so? I must
+Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
+Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
+For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
+To enter human hearing, from Argier,
+Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did
+They would not take her life. Is not this true?
+
+ARIEL:
+Ay, sir.
+
+PROSPERO:
+This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
+And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
+As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
+And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
+To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
+Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
+By help of her more potent ministers
+And in her most unmitigable rage,
+Into a cloven pine; within which rift
+Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
+A dozen years; within which space she died
+And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
+As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--
+Save for the son that she did litter here,
+A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with
+A human shape.
+
+ARIEL:
+Yes, Caliban her son.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
+Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
+What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
+Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
+Of ever angry bears: it was a torment
+To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
+Could not again undo: it was mine art,
+When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
+The pine and let thee out.
+
+ARIEL:
+I thank thee, master.
+
+PROSPERO:
+If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
+And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
+Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
+
+ARIEL:
+Pardon, master;
+I will be correspondent to command
+And do my spiriting gently.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Do so, and after two days
+I will discharge thee.
+
+ARIEL:
+That's my noble master!
+What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
+
+PROSPERO:
+Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject
+To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
+To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
+And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
+Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
+
+MIRANDA:
+The strangeness of your story put
+Heaviness in me.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Shake it off. Come on;
+We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
+Yields us kind answer.
+
+MIRANDA:
+'Tis a villain, sir,
+I do not love to look on.
+
+PROSPERO:
+But, as 'tis,
+We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
+Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
+That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
+Thou earth, thou! speak.
+
+CALIBAN:
+
+PROSPERO:
+Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
+Come, thou tortoise! when?
+Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
+Hark in thine ear.
+
+ARIEL:
+My lord it shall be done.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
+Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
+
+CALIBAN:
+As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
+With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
+Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
+And blister you all o'er!
+
+PROSPERO:
+For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
+Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
+Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
+All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
+As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
+Than bees that made 'em.
+
+CALIBAN:
+I must eat my dinner.
+This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
+Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
+Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me
+Water with berries in't, and teach me how
+To name the bigger light, and how the less,
+That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee
+And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
+The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
+Cursed be I that did so! All the charms
+Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
+For I am all the subjects that you have,
+Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
+In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
+The rest o' the island.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou most lying slave,
+Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
+Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee
+In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
+The honour of my child.
+
+CALIBAN:
+O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
+Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
+This isle with Calibans.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Abhorred slave,
+Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
+Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
+Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
+One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
+Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
+A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
+With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
+Though thou didst learn, had that in't which
+good natures
+Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
+Deservedly confined into this rock,
+Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
+
+CALIBAN:
+You taught me language; and my profit on't
+Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
+For learning me your language!
+
+PROSPERO:
+Hag-seed, hence!
+Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
+To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
+If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly
+What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
+Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar
+That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
+
+CALIBAN:
+No, pray thee.
+I must obey: his art is of such power,
+It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
+and make a vassal of him.
+
+PROSPERO:
+So, slave; hence!
+Come unto these yellow sands,
+And then take hands:
+Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
+The wild waves whist,
+Foot it featly here and there;
+And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
+Hark, hark!
+
+FERDINAND:
+Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
+It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon
+Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
+Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
+This music crept by me upon the waters,
+Allaying both their fury and my passion
+With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
+Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
+No, it begins again.
+Full fathom five thy father lies;
+Of his bones are coral made;
+Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+Nothing of him that doth fade
+But doth suffer a sea-change
+Into something rich and strange.
+Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
+Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.
+
+FERDINAND:
+The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
+This is no mortal business, nor no sound
+That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
+
+PROSPERO:
+The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
+And say what thou seest yond.
+
+MIRANDA:
+What is't? a spirit?
+Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
+It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
+
+PROSPERO:
+No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
+As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
+Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
+With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him
+A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows
+And strays about to find 'em.
+
+MIRANDA:
+I might call him
+A thing divine, for nothing natural
+I ever saw so noble.
+
+PROSPERO:
+
+FERDINAND:
+Most sure, the goddess
+On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
+May know if you remain upon this island;
+And that you will some good instruction give
+How I may bear me here: my prime request,
+Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
+If you be maid or no?
+
+MIRANDA:
+No wonder, sir;
+But certainly a maid.
+
+FERDINAND:
+My language! heavens!
+I am the best of them that speak this speech,
+Were I but where 'tis spoken.
+
+PROSPERO:
+How? the best?
+What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
+
+FERDINAND:
+A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
+To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
+And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,
+Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
+The king my father wreck'd.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Alack, for mercy!
+
+FERDINAND:
+Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
+And his brave son being twain.
+
+PROSPERO:
+
+MIRANDA:
+Why speaks my father so ungently? This
+Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
+That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
+To be inclined my way!
+
+FERDINAND:
+O, if a virgin,
+And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
+The queen of Naples.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Soft, sir! one word more.
+They are both in either's powers; but this swift business
+I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
+Make the prize light.
+One word more; I charge thee
+That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
+The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
+Upon this island as a spy, to win it
+From me, the lord on't.
+
+FERDINAND:
+No, as I am a man.
+
+MIRANDA:
+There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
+If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
+Good things will strive to dwell with't.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Follow me.
+Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;
+I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
+Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
+The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks
+Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
+
+FERDINAND:
+No;
+I will resist such entertainment till
+Mine enemy has more power.
+
+MIRANDA:
+O dear father,
+Make not too rash a trial of him, for
+He's gentle and not fearful.
+
+PROSPERO:
+What? I say,
+My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
+Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience
+Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,
+For I can here disarm thee with this stick
+And make thy weapon drop.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Beseech you, father.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Hence! hang not on my garments.
+
+MIRANDA:
+Sir, have pity;
+I'll be his surety.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Silence! one word more
+Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
+An advocate for an imposter! hush!
+Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
+Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
+To the most of men this is a Caliban
+And they to him are angels.
+
+MIRANDA:
+My affections
+Are then most humble; I have no ambition
+To see a goodlier man.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Come on; obey:
+Thy nerves are in their infancy again
+And have no vigour in them.
+
+FERDINAND:
+So they are;
+My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
+My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
+The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
+To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
+Might I but through my prison once a day
+Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
+Let liberty make use of; space enough
+Have I in such a prison.
+
+PROSPERO:
+
+MIRANDA:
+Be of comfort;
+My father's of a better nature, sir,
+Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
+Which now came from him.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Thou shalt be free
+As mountain winds: but then exactly do
+All points of my command.
+
+ARIEL:
+To the syllable.
+
+PROSPERO:
+Come, follow. Speak not for him.
+
+GONZALO:
+Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
+So have we all, of joy; for our escape
+Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
+Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
+The masters of some merchant and the merchant
+Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
+I mean our preservation, few in millions
+Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
+Our sorrow with our comfort.
+
+ALONSO:
+Prithee, peace.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+He receives comfort like cold porridge.
+
+ANTONIO:
+The visitor will not give him o'er so.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Look he's winding up the watch of his wit;
+by and by it will strike.
+
+GONZALO:
+Sir,--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+One: tell.
+
+GONZALO:
+When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
+Comes to the entertainer--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+A dollar.
+
+GONZALO:
+Dolour comes to him, indeed: you
+have spoken truer than you purposed.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
+
+GONZALO:
+Therefore, my lord,--
+
+ANTONIO:
+Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
+
+ALONSO:
+I prithee, spare.
+
+GONZALO:
+Well, I have done: but yet,--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+He will be talking.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Which, of he or Adrian, for a good
+wager, first begins to crow?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+The old cock.
+
+ANTONIO:
+The cockerel.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Done. The wager?
+
+ANTONIO:
+A laughter.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+A match!
+
+ADRIAN:
+Though this island seem to be desert,--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.
+
+ADRIAN:
+Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Yet,--
+
+ADRIAN:
+Yet,--
+
+ANTONIO:
+He could not miss't.
+
+ADRIAN:
+It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate
+temperance.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Temperance was a delicate wench.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
+
+ADRIAN:
+The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
+
+GONZALO:
+Here is everything advantageous to life.
+
+ANTONIO:
+True; save means to live.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Of that there's none, or little.
+
+GONZALO:
+How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
+
+ANTONIO:
+The ground indeed is tawny.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+With an eye of green in't.
+
+ANTONIO:
+He misses not much.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
+
+GONZALO:
+But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost
+beyond credit,--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+As many vouched rarities are.
+
+GONZALO:
+That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in
+the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and
+glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with
+salt water.
+
+ANTONIO:
+If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not
+say he lies?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report
+
+GONZALO:
+Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we
+put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of
+the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
+
+ADRIAN:
+Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to
+their queen.
+
+GONZALO:
+Not since widow Dido's time.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?
+widow Dido!
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,
+how you take it!
+
+ADRIAN:
+'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that:
+she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
+
+GONZALO:
+This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
+
+ADRIAN:
+Carthage?
+
+GONZALO:
+I assure you, Carthage.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath
+raised the wall and houses too.
+
+ANTONIO:
+What impossible matter will he make easy next?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+I think he will carry this island home in his pocket
+and give it his son for an apple.
+
+ANTONIO:
+And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
+forth more islands.
+
+GONZALO:
+Ay.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Why, in good time.
+
+GONZALO:
+Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
+as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
+of your daughter, who is now queen.
+
+ANTONIO:
+And the rarest that e'er came there.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
+
+ANTONIO:
+O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.
+
+GONZALO:
+Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
+wore it? I mean, in a sort.
+
+ANTONIO:
+That sort was well fished for.
+
+GONZALO:
+When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
+
+ALONSO:
+You cram these words into mine ears against
+The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
+Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
+My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
+Who is so far from Italy removed
+I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
+Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
+Hath made his meal on thee?
+
+FRANCISCO:
+Sir, he may live:
+I saw him beat the surges under him,
+And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
+Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
+The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
+'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
+Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
+To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
+As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
+He came alive to land.
+
+ALONSO:
+No, no, he's gone.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
+That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
+But rather lose her to an African;
+Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
+Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
+
+ALONSO:
+Prithee, peace.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise
+By all of us, and the fair soul herself
+Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
+Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your
+son,
+I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
+More widows in them of this business' making
+Than we bring men to comfort them:
+The fault's your own.
+
+ALONSO:
+So is the dear'st o' the loss.
+
+GONZALO:
+My lord Sebastian,
+The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
+And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
+When you should bring the plaster.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Very well.
+
+ANTONIO:
+And most chirurgeonly.
+
+GONZALO:
+It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
+When you are cloudy.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Foul weather?
+
+ANTONIO:
+Very foul.
+
+GONZALO:
+Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--
+
+ANTONIO:
+He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Or docks, or mallows.
+
+GONZALO:
+And were the king on't, what would I do?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
+
+GONZALO:
+I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
+Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
+Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
+Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
+And use of service, none; contract, succession,
+Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
+No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
+No occupation; all men idle, all;
+And women too, but innocent and pure;
+No sovereignty;--
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Yet he would be king on't.
+
+ANTONIO:
+The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
+beginning.
+
+GONZALO:
+All things in common nature should produce
+Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
+Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
+Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
+Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
+To feed my innocent people.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+No marrying 'mong his subjects?
+
+ANTONIO:
+None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.
+
+GONZALO:
+I would with such perfection govern, sir,
+To excel the golden age.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+God save his majesty!
+
+ANTONIO:
+Long live Gonzalo!
+
+GONZALO:
+And,--do you mark me, sir?
+
+ALONSO:
+Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
+
+GONZALO:
+I do well believe your highness; and
+did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,
+who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that
+they always use to laugh at nothing.
+
+ANTONIO:
+'Twas you we laughed at.
+
+GONZALO:
+Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
+to you: so you may continue and laugh at
+nothing still.
+
+ANTONIO:
+What a blow was there given!
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+An it had not fallen flat-long.
+
+GONZALO:
+You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift
+the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue
+in it five weeks without changing.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
+
+GONZALO:
+No, I warrant you; I will not adventure
+my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh
+me asleep, for I am very heavy?
+
+ANTONIO:
+Go sleep, and hear us.
+
+ALONSO:
+What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
+Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
+They are inclined to do so.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Please you, sir,
+Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
+It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
+It is a comforter.
+
+ANTONIO:
+We two, my lord,
+Will guard your person while you take your rest,
+And watch your safety.
+
+ALONSO:
+Thank you. Wondrous heavy.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
+
+ANTONIO:
+It is the quality o' the climate.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+Why
+Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
+Myself disposed to sleep.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
+They fell together all, as by consent;
+They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
+Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:--
+And yet me thinks I see it in thy face,
+What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and
+My strong imagination sees a crown
+Dropping upon thy head.
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+What, art thou waking?
+
+ANTONIO:
+Do you not hear me speak?
+
+SEBASTIAN:
+I do; and surely
+It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st
+Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
+This is a strange repose, to be asleep
+With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
+And yet so fast asleep.
+
+ANTONIO:
+Noble Sebastian,
+Thou let'st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink'st
+Whiles thou art waking.

tiny_shakespeare.py

@@ -1,110 +0,0 @@
-# coding=utf-8
-# Copyright 2020 The TensorFlow Datasets Authors and the HuggingFace Datasets Authors.
-#
-# Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
-# you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
-# You may obtain a copy of the License at
-#
-#     http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
-#
-# Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
-# distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
-# WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
-# See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
-# limitations under the License.
-
-# Lint as: python3
-"""Tiny Shakespeare dataset."""
-
-
-import os
-
-import datasets
-
-
-_CITATION = """\
-@misc{
-  author={Karpathy, Andrej},
-  title={char-rnn},
-  year={2015},
-  howpublished={\\url{https://github.com/karpathy/char-rnn}}
-}"""
-
-_DESCRIPTION = """\
-40,000 lines of Shakespeare from a variety of Shakespeare's plays. \
-Featured in Andrej Karpathy's blog post 'The Unreasonable Effectiveness of \
-Recurrent Neural Networks': \
-http://karpathy.github.io/2015/05/21/rnn-effectiveness/.
-
-To use for e.g. character modelling:
-
-```
-d = datasets.load_dataset(name='tiny_shakespeare')['train']
-d = d.map(lambda x: datasets.Value('strings').unicode_split(x['text'], 'UTF-8'))
-# train split includes vocabulary for other splits
-vocabulary = sorted(set(next(iter(d)).numpy()))
-d = d.map(lambda x: {'cur_char': x[:-1], 'next_char': x[1:]})
-d = d.unbatch()
-seq_len = 100
-batch_size = 2
-d = d.batch(seq_len)
-d = d.batch(batch_size)
-```
-"""
-
-
-class TinyShakespeare(datasets.GeneratorBasedBuilder):
-    """Tiny Shakespeare dataset builder."""
-
-    VERSION = datasets.Version("1.0.0")
-
-    def _info(self):
-        return datasets.DatasetInfo(
-            description=_DESCRIPTION,
-            features=datasets.Features({"text": datasets.Value("string")}),
-            supervised_keys=None,
-            homepage="https://github.com/karpathy/char-rnn/blob/master/data/tinyshakespeare/input.txt",
-            citation=_CITATION,
-        )
-
-    def _split_generators(self, dl_manager):
-        """Returns SplitGenerators."""
-        download_path = dl_manager.download_and_extract(
-            "https://raw.githubusercontent.com/karpathy/char-rnn/master/data/tinyshakespeare/input.txt"
-        )
-        if os.path.isdir(download_path):
-            # During testing the download manager mock gives us a directory
-            txt_path = os.path.join(download_path, "input.txt")
-        else:
-            txt_path = download_path
-        with open(txt_path, "r", encoding="utf-8") as f:
-            text = f.read()
-
-        # 90/5/5 split
-        i = int(len(text) * 0.9)
-        train_text, text = text[:i], text[i:]
-        i = int(len(text) * 0.5)
-        validation_text, text = text[:i], text[i:]
-        test_text = text
-
-        return [
-            datasets.SplitGenerator(
-                name=datasets.Split.TRAIN,
-                # These kwargs will be passed to _generate_examples
-                gen_kwargs={"split_key": "train", "split_text": train_text},
-            ),
-            datasets.SplitGenerator(
-                name=datasets.Split.VALIDATION,
-                gen_kwargs={"split_key": "validation", "split_text": validation_text},
-            ),
-            datasets.SplitGenerator(
-                name=datasets.Split.TEST,
-                gen_kwargs={"split_key": "test", "split_text": test_text},
-            ),
-        ]
-
-    def _generate_examples(self, split_key, split_text):
-        """Yields examples."""
-        data_key = split_key  # Should uniquely identify the thing yielded
-        feature_dict = {"text": split_text}
-        yield data_key, feature_dict

validation.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,2143 @@
+?
+
+GREMIO:
+Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.
+God save you, gentlemen!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
+Call'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I have a daughter, sir, called Katharina.
+
+GREMIO:
+You are too blunt: go to it orderly.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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 behavior,
+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.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake.
+But for my daughter Katharina, this I know,
+She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I see you do not mean to part with her,
+Or else you like not of my company.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
+Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son,
+A man well known throughout all Italy.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.
+
+GREMIO:
+Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
+Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too:
+Baccare! you are marvellous forward.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.
+
+GREMIO:
+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 scholar,
+that hath 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.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+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?
+
+TRANIO:
+Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own,
+That, being a stranger in this city here,
+Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
+Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
+Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
+In the preferment of the eldest sister.
+This liberty is all that I request,
+That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
+I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo
+And free access and favour as the rest:
+And, toward the education of your daughters,
+I here bestow a simple instrument,
+And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:
+If you accept them, then their worth is great.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Lucentio is your name; of whence, I pray?
+
+TRANIO:
+Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+A mighty man of Pisa; by report
+I know him well: you are very welcome, sir,
+Take you the lute, and you the set of books;
+You shall go see your pupils presently.
+Holla, within!
+Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
+To my daughters; and tell them both,
+These are their tutors: bid them use them well.
+We will go walk a little in the orchard,
+And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
+And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
+And every day I cannot come to woo.
+You knew my father well, and in him me,
+Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
+Which I have better'd rather than decreased:
+Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
+What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+After my death the one half of my lands,
+And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of
+Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
+In all my lands and leases whatsoever:
+Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
+That covenants may be kept on either hand.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
+That is, her love; for that is all in all.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, that is nothing: for I tell you, father,
+I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
+And where two raging fires meet together
+They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
+Though little fire grows great with little wind,
+Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all:
+So I to her and so she yields to me;
+For I am rough and woo not like a babe.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!
+But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,
+That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+How now, my friend! why dost thou look so pale?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+I think she'll sooner prove a soldier
+Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
+I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
+And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
+When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
+'Frets, call you these?' quoth she; 'I'll fume
+with them:'
+And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
+And through the instrument my pate made way;
+And there I stood amazed for a while,
+As on a pillory, looking through the lute;
+While she did call me rascal fiddler
+And twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms,
+As had she studied to misuse me so.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
+I love her ten times more than e'er I did:
+O, how I long to have some chat with her!
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Well, go with me and be not so discomfited:
+Proceed in practise with my younger daughter;
+She's apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
+Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
+Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I pray you do.
+I will attend her here,
+And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
+Say that she rail; why then I'll tell her plain
+She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:
+Say that she frown, I'll say she looks as clear
+As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
+Say she be mute and will not speak a word;
+Then I'll commend her volubility,
+And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:
+If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
+As though she bid me stay by her a week:
+If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
+When I shall ask the banns and when be married.
+But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
+Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
+They call me Katharina that do talk of me.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,
+And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst;
+But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom
+Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
+For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
+Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
+Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,
+Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
+Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
+Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Moved! in good time: let him that moved you hither
+Remove you hence: I knew you at the first
+You were a moveable.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, what's a moveable?
+
+KATHARINA:
+A join'd-stool.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Women are made to bear, and so are you.
+
+KATHARINA:
+No such jade as you, if me you mean.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Alas! good Kate, I will not burden thee;
+For, knowing thee to be but young and light--
+
+KATHARINA:
+Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
+And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Should be! should--buzz!
+
+KATHARINA:
+Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+O slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.
+
+KATHARINA:
+If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+My remedy is then, to pluck it out.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies,
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Who knows not where a wasp does
+wear his sting? In his tail.
+
+KATHARINA:
+In his tongue.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Whose tongue?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,
+Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
+
+KATHARINA:
+That I'll try.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
+
+KATHARINA:
+So may you lose your arms:
+If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
+And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!
+
+KATHARINA:
+What is your crest? a coxcomb?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
+
+KATHARINA:
+No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
+
+KATHARINA:
+It is my fashion, when I see a crab.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.
+
+KATHARINA:
+There is, there is.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Then show it me.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Had I a glass, I would.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+What, you mean my face?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Well aim'd of such a young one.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Yet you are wither'd.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+'Tis with cares.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I care not.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth you scape not so.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I chafe you, if I tarry: let me go.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+No, not a whit: I find you passing gentle.
+'Twas told me you were rough and coy and sullen,
+And now I find report a very liar;
+For thou are pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
+But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers:
+Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
+Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
+Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk,
+But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
+With gentle conference, soft and affable.
+Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
+O slanderous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
+Is straight and slender and as brown in hue
+As hazel nuts and sweeter than the kernels.
+O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Did ever Dian so become a grove
+As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
+O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
+And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful!
+
+KATHARINA:
+Where did you study all this goodly speech?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
+
+KATHARINA:
+A witty mother! witless else her son.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Am I not wise?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Yes; keep you warm.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharina, in thy bed:
+And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
+Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
+That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
+And, Will you, nill you, I will marry you.
+Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
+For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
+Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,
+Thou must be married to no man but me;
+For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
+And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
+Conformable as other household Kates.
+Here comes your father: never make denial;
+I must and will have Katharina to my wife.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+How but well, sir? how but well?
+It were impossible I should speed amiss.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Why, how now, daughter Katharina! in your dumps?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Call you me daughter? now, I promise you
+You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,
+To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
+A mad-cup ruffian and a swearing Jack,
+That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world,
+That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her:
+If she be curst, it is for policy,
+For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
+She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
+For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
+And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
+And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together,
+That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
+
+GREMIO:
+Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee
+hang'd first.
+
+TRANIO:
+Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself:
+If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?
+'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
+That she shall still be curst in company.
+I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
+How much she loves me: 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! 'tis a world to see,
+How tame, when men and women are alone,
+A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
+Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice,
+To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
+Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
+I will be sure my Katharina shall be fine.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I know not what to say: but give me your hands;
+God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
+
+GREMIO:
+Amen, say we: we will be witnesses.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu;
+I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace:
+We will have rings and things and fine array;
+And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday.
+
+GREMIO:
+Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
+And venture madly on a desperate mart.
+
+TRANIO:
+'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you:
+'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+The gain I seek is, quiet in the match.
+
+GREMIO:
+No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
+But now, Baptists, to your younger daughter:
+Now is the day we long have looked for:
+I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
+
+TRANIO:
+And I am one that love Bianca more
+Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
+
+GREMIO:
+Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
+
+TRANIO:
+Graybeard, thy love doth freeze.
+
+GREMIO:
+But thine doth fry.
+Skipper, stand back: 'tis age that nourisheth.
+
+TRANIO:
+But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Content you, gentlemen: I will compound this strife:
+'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he of both
+That can assure my daughter greatest dower
+Shall have my Bianca's love.
+Say, Signior Gremio, What can you assure her?
+
+GREMIO:
+First, as you know, my house within the city
+Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
+Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
+My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
+In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
+In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
+Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
+Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
+Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
+Pewter and brass and all things that belong
+To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm
+I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
+Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls,
+And all things answerable to this portion.
+Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
+And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
+If whilst I live she will be only mine.
+
+TRANIO:
+That 'only' came well in. Sir, list to me:
+I am my father's heir and only son:
+If I may have your daughter to my wife,
+I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
+Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
+Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
+Besides two thousand ducats by the year
+Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
+What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?
+
+GREMIO:
+Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
+My land amounts not to so much in all:
+That she shall have; besides an argosy
+That now is lying in Marseilles' road.
+What, have I choked you with an argosy?
+
+TRANIO:
+Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
+Than three great argosies; besides two galliases,
+And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her,
+And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.
+
+GREMIO:
+Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more;
+And she can have no more than all I have:
+If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
+
+TRANIO:
+Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,
+By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I must confess your offer is the best;
+And, let your father make her the assurance,
+She is your own; else, you must pardon me,
+if you should die before him, where's her dower?
+
+TRANIO:
+That's but a cavil: he is old, I young.
+
+GREMIO:
+And may not young men die, as well as old?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Well, gentlemen,
+I am thus resolved: on Sunday next you know
+My daughter Katharina is to be married:
+Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
+Be bride to you, if you this assurance;
+If not, Signior Gremio:
+And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.
+
+GREMIO:
+Adieu, good neighbour.
+Now I fear thee not:
+Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool
+To give thee all, and in his waning age
+Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy!
+An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
+
+TRANIO:
+A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!
+Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.
+'Tis in my head to do my master good:
+I see no reason but supposed Lucentio
+Must get a father, call'd 'supposed Vincentio;'
+And that's a wonder: fathers commonly
+Do get their children; but in this case of wooing,
+A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir:
+Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
+Her sister Katharina welcomed you withal?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+But, wrangling pedant, this is
+The patroness of heavenly harmony:
+Then give me leave to have prerogative;
+And when in music we have spent an hour,
+Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Preposterous ass, that never read so far
+To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
+Was it not to refresh the mind of man
+After his studies or his usual pain?
+Then give me leave to read philosophy,
+And while I pause, serve in your harmony.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
+
+BIANCA:
+Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
+To strive for that which resteth in my choice:
+I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
+I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
+But learn my lessons as I please myself.
+And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down:
+Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
+His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+That will be never: tune your instrument.
+
+BIANCA:
+Where left we last?
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Here, madam:
+'Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
+Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.'
+
+BIANCA:
+Construe them.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+'Hic ibat,' as I told you before, 'Simois,' I am
+Lucentio, 'hic est,' son unto Vincentio of Pisa,
+'Sigeia tellus,' disguised thus to get your love;
+'Hic steterat,' and that Lucentio that comes
+a-wooing, 'Priami,' is my man Tranio, 'regia,'
+bearing my port, 'celsa senis,' that we might
+beguile the old pantaloon.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Madam, my instrument's in tune.
+
+BIANCA:
+Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
+
+BIANCA:
+Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat
+Simois,' I know you not, 'hic est Sigeia tellus,' I
+trust you not; 'Hic steterat Priami,' take heed
+he hear us not, 'regia,' presume not, 'celsa senis,'
+despair not.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Madam, 'tis now in tune.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+All but the base.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
+How fiery and forward our pedant is!
+Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
+Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
+
+BIANCA:
+In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Mistrust it not: for, sure, AEacides
+Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
+
+BIANCA:
+I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
+I should be arguing still upon that doubt:
+But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:
+Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
+That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+You may go walk, and give me leave a while:
+My lessons make no music in three parts.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait,
+And watch withal; for, but I be deceived,
+Our fine musician groweth amorous.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Madam, before you touch the instrument,
+To learn the order of my fingering,
+I must begin with rudiments of art;
+To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
+More pleasant, pithy and effectual,
+Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
+And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
+
+BIANCA:
+Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
+
+BIANCA:
+
+Servant:
+Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
+And help to dress your sister's chamber up:
+You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.
+
+BIANCA:
+Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+But I have cause to pry into this pedant:
+Methinks he looks as though he were in love:
+Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
+To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale,
+Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging,
+Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+
+KATHARINA:
+No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forced
+To give my hand opposed against my heart
+Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen;
+Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
+I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
+Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior:
+And, to be noted for a merry man,
+He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
+Make feasts, invite friends, and proclaim the banns;
+Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
+Now must the world point at poor Katharina,
+And say, 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
+If it would please him come and marry her!'
+
+TRANIO:
+Patience, good Katharina, and Baptista too.
+Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
+Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
+Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
+Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Would Katharina had never seen him though!
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
+For such an injury would vex a very saint,
+Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Master, master! news, old news, and such news as
+you never heard of!
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Is it new and old too? how may that be?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Is he come?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Why, no, sir.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+What then?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+He is coming.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+When will he be here?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+When he stands where I am and sees you there.
+
+TRANIO:
+But say, what to thine old news?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old
+jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair
+of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled,
+another laced, an old rusty sword ta'en out of the
+town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless;
+with two broken points: his horse hipped with an
+old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred;
+besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose
+in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected
+with the fashions, full of wingdalls, sped with
+spavins, rayed with yellows, past cure of the fives,
+stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the
+bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten;
+near-legged before and with, a half-chequed bit
+and a head-stall of sheeps leather which, being
+restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been
+often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth
+six time pieced and a woman's crupper of velure,
+which hath two letters for her name fairly set down
+in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Who comes with him?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned
+like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a
+kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red
+and blue list; an old hat and 'the humour of forty
+fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a
+very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
+footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
+
+TRANIO:
+'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
+Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Why, sir, he comes not.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Didst thou not say he comes?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Who? that Petruchio came?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Ay, that Petruchio came.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Why, that's all one.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Nay, by Saint Jamy,
+I hold you a penny,
+A horse and a man
+Is more than one,
+And yet not many.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+You are welcome, sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+And yet I come not well.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+And yet you halt not.
+
+TRANIO:
+Not so well apparell'd
+As I wish you were.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Were it better, I should rush in thus.
+But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
+How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown:
+And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
+As if they saw some wondrous monument,
+Some comet or unusual prodigy?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
+First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
+Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
+Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
+An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
+
+TRANIO:
+And tells us, what occasion of import
+Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
+And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
+Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
+Though in some part enforced to digress;
+Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
+As you shall well be satisfied withal.
+But where is Kate? I stay too long from her:
+The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
+
+TRANIO:
+See not your bride in these unreverent robes:
+Go to my chamber; Put on clothes of mine.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words:
+To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
+Could I repair what she will wear in me,
+As I can change these poor accoutrements,
+'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
+But what a fool am I to chat with you,
+When I should bid good morrow to my bride,
+And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
+
+TRANIO:
+He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
+We will persuade him, be it possible,
+To put on better ere he go to church.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+I'll after him, and see the event of this.
+
+TRANIO:
+But to her love concerneth us to add
+Her father's liking: which to bring to pass,
+As I before unparted to your worship,
+I am to get a man,--whate'er he be,
+It skills not much. we'll fit him to our turn,--
+And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa;
+And make assurance here in Padua
+Of greater sums than I have promised.
+So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
+And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Were it not that my fellow-school-master
+Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
+'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
+Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
+I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
+
+TRANIO:
+That by degrees we mean to look into,
+And watch our vantage in this business:
+We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
+The narrow-prying father, Minola,
+The quaint musician, amorous Licio;
+All for my master's sake, Lucentio.
+Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
+
+GREMIO:
+As willingly as e'er I came from school.
+
+TRANIO:
+And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
+
+GREMIO:
+A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed,
+A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
+
+TRANIO:
+Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
+
+GREMIO:
+Why he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
+
+TRANIO:
+Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
+
+GREMIO:
+Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him!
+I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
+Should ask, if Katharina should be his wife,
+'Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he; and swore so loud,
+That, all-amazed, the priest let fall the book;
+And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
+The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
+That down fell priest and book and book and priest:
+'Now take them up,' quoth he, 'if any list.'
+
+TRANIO:
+What said the wench when he rose again?
+
+GREMIO:
+Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd and swore,
+As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
+But after many ceremonies done,
+He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
+He had been aboard, carousing to his mates
+After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel
+And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
+Having no other reason
+But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
+And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
+This done, he took the bride about the neck
+And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
+That at the parting all the church did echo:
+And I seeing this came thence for very shame;
+And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
+Such a mad marriage never was before:
+Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
+I know you think to dine with me to-day,
+And have prepared great store of wedding cheer;
+But so it is, my haste doth call me hence,
+And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Is't possible you will away to-night?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I must away to-day, before night come:
+Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
+You would entreat me rather go than stay.
+And, honest company, I thank you all,
+That have beheld me give away myself
+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.
+
+TRANIO:
+Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+It may not be.
+
+GREMIO:
+Let me entreat you.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+It cannot be.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Let me entreat you.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I am content.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Are you content to stay?
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+I am content you shall entreat me stay;
+But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Now, if you love me, stay.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Grumio, my horse.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Ay, sir, they be ready: the oats have eaten the horses.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Nay, then,
+Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
+No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
+The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
+You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
+For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself:
+'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom,
+That take it on you at the first so roundly.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+O Kate, content thee; prithee, be not angry.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I will be angry: what hast thou to do?
+Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
+
+GREMIO:
+Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.
+
+KATARINA:
+Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
+I see a woman may be made a fool,
+If she had not a spirit to resist.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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 dare;
+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 a man.
+Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch
+thee, Kate:
+I'll buckler thee against a million.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.
+
+GREMIO:
+Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.
+
+TRANIO:
+Of all mad matches never was the like.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
+
+BIANCA:
+That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
+
+GREMIO:
+I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Neighbours and friends, though bride and
+bridegroom wants
+For to supply the places at the table,
+You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
+Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place:
+And let Bianca take her sister's room.
+
+TRANIO:
+Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
+
+BAPTISTA:
+She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
+
+GRUMIO:
+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.
+
+CURTIS:
+Who is that calls so coldly?
+
+GRUMIO:
+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.
+
+CURTIS:
+Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
+
+GRUMIO:
+O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire; cast
+on no water.
+
+CURTIS:
+Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
+
+GRUMIO:
+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.
+
+CURTIS:
+Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
+
+GRUMIO:
+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 comfort, for being slow in thy hot office?
+
+CURTIS:
+I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?
+
+GRUMIO:
+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.
+
+CURTIS:
+There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Why, 'Jack, boy! ho! boy!' and as much news as
+will thaw.
+
+CURTIS:
+Come, you are so full of cony-catching!
+
+GRUMIO:
+Why, therefore fire; for I have caught extreme cold.
+Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house
+trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept; the
+serving-men in their new fustian, their white
+stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on?
+Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without,
+the carpets laid, and every thing in order?
+
+CURTIS:
+All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.
+
+GRUMIO:
+First, know, my horse is tired; my master and
+mistress fallen out.
+
+CURTIS:
+How?
+
+GRUMIO:
+Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby
+hangs a tale.
+
+CURTIS:
+Let's ha't, good Grumio.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Lend thine ear.
+
+CURTIS:
+Here.
+
+GRUMIO:
+There.
+
+CURTIS:
+This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
+
+GRUMIO:
+And therefore 'tis 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,--
+
+CURTIS:
+Both of one horse?
+
+GRUMIO:
+What's that to thee?
+
+CURTIS:
+Why, a horse.
+
+GRUMIO:
+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 bemoiled, how he left her
+with the horse upon her, how he beat me because
+her horse stumbled, 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.
+
+CURTIS:
+By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
+
+GRUMIO:
+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 presume to touch a hair
+of my master's horse-tail till they kiss their
+hands. Are they all ready?
+
+CURTIS:
+They are.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Call them forth.
+
+CURTIS:
+Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to
+countenance my mistress.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Why, she hath a face of her own.
+
+CURTIS:
+Who knows not that?
+
+GRUMIO:
+Thou, it seems, that calls for company to
+countenance her.
+
+CURTIS:
+I call them forth to credit her.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
+
+NATHANIEL:
+Welcome home, Grumio!
+
+PHILIP:
+How now, Grumio!
+
+JOSEPH:
+What, Grumio!
+
+NICHOLAS:
+Fellow Grumio!
+
+NATHANIEL:
+How now, old lad?
+
+GRUMIO:
+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?
+
+NATHANIEL:
+All things is ready. How near is our master?
+
+GRUMIO:
+E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be
+not--Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
+To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
+Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
+
+ALL SERVING-MEN:
+Here, here, sir; here, sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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?
+
+GRUMIO:
+Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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?
+
+GRUMIO:
+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 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.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
+Where is the life that late I led--
+Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.--
+Sound, sound, sound, sound!
+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:
+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.
+You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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?
+
+First Servant:
+Ay.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Who brought it?
+
+PETER:
+I.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+'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?
+Theretake it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
+You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
+What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:
+The meat was well, if you were so contented.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+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.
+
+NATHANIEL:
+Peter, didst ever see the like?
+
+PETER:
+He kills her in her own humour.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Where is he?
+
+CURTIS:
+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.
+
+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-gorged,
+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.
+
+TRANIO:
+Is't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
+Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
+I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
+Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
+
+BIANCA:
+What, master, read you? first resolve me that.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+I read that I profess, the Art to Love.
+
+BIANCA:
+And may you prove, sir, master of your art!
+
+LUCENTIO:
+While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I pray,
+You that durst swear at your mistress Bianca
+Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
+
+TRANIO:
+O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
+I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Mistake no more: I am not Licio,
+Nor a musician, as I seem to be;
+But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
+For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
+And makes a god of such a cullion:
+Know, sir, that I am call'd Hortensio.
+
+TRANIO:
+Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
+Of your entire affection to Bianca;
+And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
+I will with you, if you be so contented,
+Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
+Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
+Never to woo her no more, but do forswear her,
+As one unworthy all the former favours
+That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.
+
+TRANIO:
+And here I take the unfeigned oath,
+Never to marry with her though she would entreat:
+Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him!
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
+For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
+I will be married to a wealthy widow,
+Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me
+As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard.
+And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
+Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
+Shall win my love: and so I take my leave,
+In resolution as I swore before.
+
+TRANIO:
+Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
+As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!
+Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love,
+And have forsworn you with Hortensio.
+
+BIANCA:
+Tranio, you jest: but have you both forsworn me?
+
+TRANIO:
+Mistress, we have.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+Then we are rid of Licio.
+
+TRANIO:
+I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
+That shall be wood and wedded in a day.
+
+BIANCA:
+God give him joy!
+
+TRANIO:
+Ay, and he'll tame her.
+
+BIANCA:
+He says so, Tranio.
+
+TRANIO:
+Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
+
+BIANCA:
+The taming-school! what, is there such a place?
+
+TRANIO:
+Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master;
+That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
+To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+O master, master, I have watch'd so long
+That I am dog-weary: but at last I spied
+An ancient angel coming down the hill,
+Will serve the turn.
+
+TRANIO:
+What is he, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Master, a mercatante, or a pedant,
+I know not what; but format in apparel,
+In gait and countenance surely like a father.
+
+LUCENTIO:
+And what of him, Tranio?
+
+TRANIO:
+If he be credulous and trust my tale,
+I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
+And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
+As if he were the right Vincentio
+Take in your love, and then let me alone.
+
+Pedant:
+God save you, sir!
+
+TRANIO:
+And you, sir! you are welcome.
+Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
+
+Pedant:
+Sir, at the farthest for a week or two:
+But then up farther, and as for as Rome;
+And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
+
+TRANIO:
+What countryman, I pray?
+
+Pedant:
+Of Mantua.
+
+TRANIO:
+Of Mantua, sir? marry, God forbid!
+And come to Padua, careless of your life?
+
+Pedant:
+My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.
+
+TRANIO:
+'Tis death for any one in Mantua
+To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
+Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the duke,
+For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,
+Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
+'Tis, marvel, but that you are but newly come,
+You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
+
+Pedant:
+Alas! sir, it is worse for me than so;
+For I have bills for money by exchange
+From Florence and must here deliver them.
+
+TRANIO:
+Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
+This will I do, and this I will advise you:
+First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
+
+Pedant:
+Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
+Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
+
+TRANIO:
+Among them know you one Vincentio?
+
+Pedant:
+I know him not, but I have heard of him;
+A merchant of incomparable wealth.
+
+TRANIO:
+He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
+In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+
+TRANIO:
+To save your life in this extremity,
+This favour will I do you for his sake;
+And think it not the worst of an your fortunes
+That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
+His name and credit shall you undertake,
+And in my house you shall be friendly lodged:
+Look that you take upon you as you should;
+You understand me, sir: so shall you stay
+Till you have done your business in the city:
+If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.
+
+Pedant:
+O sir, I do; and will repute you ever
+The patron of my life and liberty.
+
+TRANIO:
+Then go with me to make the matter good.
+This, by the way, I let you understand;
+my father is here look'd for every day,
+To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
+'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
+In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
+Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.
+
+GRUMIO:
+No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
+
+KATHARINA:
+The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
+What, did he marry me to famish me?
+Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
+Upon entreaty have a present aims;
+If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
+But I, who never knew how to entreat,
+Nor never needed that I should entreat,
+Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
+With oath kept waking and with brawling fed:
+And that which spites me more than all these wants,
+He does it under name of perfect love;
+As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
+'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
+I prithee go and get me some repast;
+I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
+
+GRUMIO:
+What say you to a neat's foot?
+
+KATHARINA:
+'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
+
+GRUMIO:
+I fear it is too choleric a meat.
+How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
+
+KATHARINA:
+I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
+
+GRUMIO:
+I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
+What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
+
+KATHARINA:
+A dish that I do love to feed upon.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
+Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Why then, the mustard without the beef.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
+That feed'st me with the very name of meat:
+Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you,
+That triumph thus upon my misery!
+Go, get thee gone, I say.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Mistress, what cheer?
+
+KATHARINA:
+Faith, as cold as can be.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
+Here love; thou see'st how diligent I am
+To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee:
+I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
+What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not;
+And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
+Here, take away this dish.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I pray you, let it stand.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
+And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I thank you, sir.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
+Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+
+Haberdasher:
+Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
+A velvet dish: fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:
+Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
+A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap:
+Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time,
+And gentlewomen wear such caps as these
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
+And not till then.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+
+KATHARINA:
+Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
+And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
+Your betters have endured me say my mind,
+And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
+My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
+Or else my heart concealing it will break,
+And rather than it shall, I will be free
+Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
+A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie:
+I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.
+
+KATHARINA:
+Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
+And it I will have, or I will have none.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
+O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
+What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
+What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
+Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
+Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
+Why, what, i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?
+
+HORTENSIO:
+
+Tailor:
+You bid me make it orderly and well,
+According to the fashion and the time.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd,
+I did not bid you mar it to the time.
+Go, hop me over every kennel home,
+For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
+I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
+More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
+Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
+
+Tailor:
+She says your worship means to make
+a puppet of her.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
+thou thimble,
+Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
+Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
+Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread?
+Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
+Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard
+As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest!
+I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
+
+Tailor:
+Your worship is deceived; the gown is made
+Just as my master had direction:
+Grumio gave order how it should be done.
+
+GRUMIO:
+I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
+
+Tailor:
+But how did you desire it should be made?
+
+GRUMIO:
+Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
+
+Tailor:
+But did you not request to have it cut?
+
+GRUMIO:
+Thou hast faced many things.
+
+Tailor:
+I have.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not
+me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto
+thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did
+not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.
+
+Tailor:
+Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Read it.
+
+GRUMIO:
+The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
+
+Tailor:
+
+GRUMIO:
+Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in
+the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom
+of brown thread: I said a gown.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Proceed.
+
+Tailor:
+
+GRUMIO:
+I confess the cape.
+
+Tailor:
+
+GRUMIO:
+I confess two sleeves.
+
+Tailor:
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Ay, there's the villany.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill.
+I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and
+sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee,
+though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
+
+Tailor:
+This is true that I say: an I had thee
+in place where, thou shouldst know it.
+
+GRUMIO:
+I am for thee straight: take thou the
+bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
+
+GRUMIO:
+You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
+
+GRUMIO:
+Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress'
+gown for thy master's use!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
+
+GRUMIO:
+O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
+Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
+O, fie, fie, fie!
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+
+HORTENSIO:
+Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow:
+Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
+Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's
+Even in these honest mean habiliments:
+Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
+For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
+And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
+So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
+What is the jay more precious than the lark,
+Because his fathers are more beautiful?
+Or is the adder better than the eel,
+Because his painted skin contents the eye?
+O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
+For this poor furniture and mean array.
+if thou account'st it shame. lay it on me;
+And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
+To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
+Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
+And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
+There will we mount, and thither walk on foot
+Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
+And well we may come there by dinner-time.
+
+KATHARINA:
+I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two;
+And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
+
+PETRUCHIO:
+It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
+Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
+You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone:
+I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
+It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
+
+HORTENSIO:
+
+TRANIO:
+Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?
+
+Pedant:
+Ay, what else? and but I be deceived
+Signior Baptista may remember me,
+Near twenty years ago, in Genoa,
+Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
+
+TRANIO:
+'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
+With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.
+
+Pedant:
+I warrant you.
+But, sir, here comes your boy;
+'Twere good he were school'd.
+
+TRANIO:
+Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
+Now do your duty throughly, I advise you:
+Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
+
+BIONDELLO:
+Tut, fear not me.
+
+TRANIO:
+But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
+
+BIONDELLO:
+I told him that your father was at Venice,
+And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.
+
+TRANIO:
+Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.
+Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir.
+Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
+Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of:
+I pray you stand good father to me now,
+Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
+
+Pedant:
+Soft son!
+Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
+To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
+Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
+Of love between your daughter and himself:
+And, for the good report I hear of you
+And for the love he beareth to your daughter
+And she to him, to stay him not too long,
+I am content, in a good father's care,
+To have him match'd; and if you please to like
+No worse than I, upon some agreement
+Me shall you find ready and willing
+With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
+For curious I cannot be with you,
+Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
+
+BAPTISTA:
+Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
+Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
+Right true it is, your son Lucentio here
+Doth love my daughter and she loveth him,
+Or both dissemble deeply their affections:
+And therefore, if you say no more than this,
+That like a father you will deal with him
+And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
+The match is made, and all is done:
+Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
+
+TRANIO:
+I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
+We be affied and such assu