Re-enter Biondello.

How now, what news?

Bion, Sir, my Mistress fends you

That he is bufy, and cannot come.

word

Pet. How? fhe's bufy and cannot come, is that am anfwer?

Gre. Ay, and a kind one too:

Pray God, Sir, your wife fend you not a worse.
Pet. I hope better.

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go and intreat my wife to come to me forthwith.

[Exit Biondello. Pet. Oh, ho! intreat her! nay, then the needs must

come.

Hor. I am afraid, Sir, do you what you can,

Enter Biondello.

Yours will not be intreated: now,

where's my

wife?

Bion. She fays, you have fome goodly jest in hand;

She will not come: fhe bids you come to her.
Pet. Worfe and worfe, fhe will not come!"
Oh vile, intolerable, not to be indur'd:
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your Mistress,
Say, I command her to come to me.

Hor. I know her answer.

Pet. What?

Hor. She will not.

[Exit Grumio.

Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there's an end.

Enter Catharina.

Bap. Now, by my hollidam, here comes Catharine ! Cath. What is your will, Sir, that you fend for me? Pet. Where is your Sifter, and Hortenfio's Wife? Cath. They fit conferring by the parlour fire. Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to come, Swinge me them foundly forth unto their husbands: Away, I fay, and bring them hither straight.

[Exit Catharina, Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Hor. And fo it is: I wonder, what it bodes.

Pet

Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, And awful rule, and right fupremacy:

And, to be short, what not, that's fweet and happy.
Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou haft won; and I will add
Unto their loffes twenty thoufand crowns,
Another dowry to another Daughter;
For the is chang'd, as fhe had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more fign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.

Enter Catharina, Bianca, and Widow.

See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prifoners to her womanly perfuafion :
Catharine, that Cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.

[She pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to figh, 'Till I be brought to fuch a filly pass,

Bian. Fy, what a foolish duty call you this?
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too!
The wifdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Coft me an hundred crowns fince fupper-time.

Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty.
Pet. Catharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong

women,

What duty they owe to their Lords and Husbands.
Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no
telling.

Pet. Come on, I fay, and first begin with her.
Wid. She fhall not.

Pet. I fay, the fhall: and firft begin with her.
Cath. Fy! fy! unknit that threatning unkind brow,
And dart not fcornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Governor.
It blots thy beauty, as frofts bite the meads;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds fhake fair buds;
And in no fenfe is meet or amiable.

A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,

Muddy,

Muddy, ill-feeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is fo, none fo dry or thirsty
Will dain to fip, 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 fea and land;
To watch the night in ftorms, the day in cold,
While thou ly'ft warm at home, fecure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for fo great a debt.
Such duty as the Subject owes the Prince,
Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband:
And when she's froward, peevish fullen, fower,
And not obedient to his honeft will;
What is the but a foul contending Rebel,
And graceless Traitor to her loving Lord:
I am afham'd, that Women are fo fimple
To offer war were they fhould kneel for peace;
Or feek for rule, fupremacy, and fway,
When they are bound to ferve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies, foft and weak and fmooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,

But that our foft 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 reafon haply more,
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown;
But, now I fee, our lances are but flraws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness paft compare ;
That feeming to be moft, which we indeed leaft are.
Then vale your ftomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot;
In token of which duty, if he pleafe,

My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Pet. Why, there's a wench: come on, and kifs me, Kate.
Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou fhalt ha't.
Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.

Luc.

Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are froward.
Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed;

We three are married, but you two are fped.
'Twas I won the wager, tho' you hit the white;
And being a winner, God give you good night.

[Exeunt Petruchio and Catharina Hor. Now go thy ways, thou haft tam'd a curft Shrew. Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd fo. [Exeunt omnes.

Enter two fervants bearing Sly in bis own apparel, and leaving him on the Stage. Then enter a Tapster.

Sly awaking.] Sim, give's fome more wine--what, all the Players gone? am not I a Lord?

Tap. A Lord, with a murrain! come, art thou drunk Rill?

Sly. Who's this? Tapiter! oh, I have had the braveft dream that ever thou beardft in all thy life.

Tap. Yea, marry, but thou hadst beft get thee home, for your Wife will courfe you for dreaming here all night.

Sly. Will fhe? I know how to tame a Shrew. dreamt upon it all this night, and thou haft wak'd me out of the beft dream that ever I had. But I'll to my Wife and tame her too, if she anger me.