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    The Taming of the Shrew
    The Taming of the Shrew
    The Taming of the Shrew
    Ebook111 pages1 hour

    The Taming of the Shrew

    By William Shakespeare

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    The Taming of the Shrew is perhaps one of Shakespeare's most controversial plays by modern standards. Hinging on the courtship between the arrogant Petruchio and the "shrew" of the title Katherina, it is unclear whether Shakespeare's blatantly misogynistic themes were in earnest or tongue in cheek. The charming and tender Bianca is forbidden to marry until her elder sister, Katherine is spoken for. Bianca's suitors enlist Petruchio to woo Katherina for her dowry. Petruchio embarks on his own brand of psychological torture and in so doing manages to "tame" the stubborn Katherine who morphs into the faultless submissive wife.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJH
    Release dateMar 24, 2019
    ISBN9788832591330
    Author

    William Shakespeare

    William Shakespeare is the world's greatest ever playwright. Born in 1564, he split his time between Stratford-upon-Avon and London, where he worked as a playwright, poet and actor. In 1582 he married Anne Hathaway. Shakespeare died in 1616 at the age of fifty-two, leaving three children—Susanna, Hamnet and Judith. The rest is silence.

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      Book preview

      The Taming of the Shrew - William Shakespeare

      The Taming of the Shrew

      William Shakespeare

      .

      THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

      by William Shakespeare

      Dramatis Personae

          Persons in the Induction

        A LORD

        CHRISTOPHER SLY, a tinker

        HOSTESS

        PAGE

        PLAYERS

        HUNTSMEN

        SERVANTS

        BAPTISTA MINOLA, a gentleman of Padua

        VINCENTIO, a Merchant of Pisa

        LUCENTIO, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca

        PETRUCHIO, a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to Katherina

          Suitors to Bianca

        GREMIO

        HORTENSIO

          Servants to Lucentio

        TRANIO

        BIONDELLO

          Servants to Petruchio

        GRUMIO

        CURTIS

      A PEDANT

          Daughters to Baptista

        KATHERINA, the shrew

        BIANCA

      A WIDOW

        Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and

          Petruchio

      SCENE: Padua, and PETRUCHIO'S house in the country

      SC_1

                            INDUCTION. SCENE I.

                        Before an alehouse on a heath

      Enter HOSTESS and SLY

        SLY. I'll pheeze you, in faith.

        HOSTESS. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

        SLY. Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues. Look in the

          chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore,

      paucas

          pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa!

        HOSTESS. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

        SLY. No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold

      bed

          and warm thee.

        HOSTESS. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.

      Exit

        SLY. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by

      law.

          I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly.

                                                        [Falls asleep]

      Wind horns. Enter a LORD from hunting, with his train

        LORD. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds;

          Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd;

          And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.

          Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good

          At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?

          I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

        FIRST HUNTSMAN. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;

          He cried upon it at the merest loss,

          And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;

          Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

        LORD. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,

          I would esteem him worth a dozen such.

          But sup them well, and look unto them all;

          To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

        FIRST HUNTSMAN. I will, my lord.

        LORD. What's here? One dead, or drunk?

          See, doth he breathe?

        SECOND HUNTSMAN. He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with

      ale,

          This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

        LORD. O monstrous beast, how like a swine he lies!

          Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!

          Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.

          What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

          Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,

          A most delicious banquet by his bed,

          And brave attendants near him when he wakes,

          Would not the beggar then forget himself?

        FIRST HUNTSMAN. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.

        SECOND HUNTSMAN. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

        LORD. Even as a flatt'ring dream or worthless fancy.

          Then take him up, and manage well the jest:

          Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,

          And hang it round with all my wanton pictures;

          Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,

          And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet;

          Procure me music ready when he wakes,

          To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;

          And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,

          And with a low submissive reverence

          Say 'What is it your honour will command?'

          Let one attend him with a silver basin

          Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;

          Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,

          And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'

          Some one be ready with a costly suit,

          And ask him what apparel he will wear;

          Another tell him of his hounds and horse,

          And that his lady mourns at his disease;

          Persuade him that he hath been lunatic,

          And, when he says he is, say that he dreams,

          For he is nothing but a mighty lord.

          This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;

          It will be pastime passing excellent,

          If it be husbanded with modesty.

        FIRST HUNTSMAN. My lord, I warrant you we will play our part

          As he shall think by our true diligence

          He is no less than what we say he is.

        LORD. Take him up gently, and to bed with him;

          And each one to his office when he wakes.

                                [SLY is carried out. A trumpet sounds]

          Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds-

                                                          Exit SERVANT

          Belike some noble gentleman that means,

          Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

      Re-enter a SERVINGMAN

          How now! who is it?

        SERVANT. An't please your honour, players

          That offer service to your lordship.

        LORD. Bid them come near.

      Enter PLAYERS

          Now, fellows, you are welcome.

        PLAYERS. We thank your honour.

        LORD. Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

        PLAYER. So please your lordship to accept our duty.

        LORD. With all my heart. This fellow I remember

          Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;

          'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.

          I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part

          Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.

        PLAYER. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

        LORD. 'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.

          Well, you are come to me in happy time,

          The rather for I have some sport in hand

          Wherein your cunning can assist me much.

          There is a lord will hear you play to-night;

          But I am doubtful of your modesties,

          Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour,

          For yet his honour never heard a play,

          You break into some merry passion

          And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,

          If you should smile, he grows impatient.

        PLAYER. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,

          Were he the veriest antic in the world.

        LORD. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,

          And give them friendly welcome every one;

          Let them want nothing that my house affords.

                                            Exit one with the PLAYERS

          Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page,

          And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady;

          That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,

          And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.

          Tell him from me- as he will win my love-

          He bear himself with honourable action,

          Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies

          Unto their lords, by them

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