sarnab/Shakespeare_Corpus · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 4 3.08k
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 assurance 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.

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 assurance 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.