Pet. Alas, good Kate! I will not burden thee:
For, knowing thee to be but young and light,—
Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch:
And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

Pet. Should be? should buz.


Weil ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee? Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard.5

Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i'faith, you are tod angry.

Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out.

Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his

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Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewel. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come


Good Kate; I am a gentleman.


That I'll try. [Striking him.

4 No such jade, sir,] The latter word, which is not in the old, copy, was supplied by the editor of the second folio. Malone. Perhaps we should read-no such jack. However, there is authority for jade in a male sense. So, in Soliman and Perseda, Piston says of Basilisco, "He just like a knight! He'll just like a jade." Farmer.

So, before, p. 55: "I know he'll prove a jade." Malone. 5 Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard.] Perhaps we may read better

Ay, for a turtle, and he takes a buzzard.

That is, he may take me for a turtle, and he shall find me a hawk. Johnson. This kind of expression likewise seems to have been proverbial. So, in The Three Lords of London, 1590:

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hast no more skill,

"Than take a faulcon for a buzzard?" Steevens.

6 Yours, if you talk of tails;] The old copy reads-tales, and it may perhaps be right.-" Yours, if your talk be no better than an idle tale." Our author is very fond of using words of similar sounds in different senses.-I have, however, followed the emendation made by Mr. Pope, which all the modern editors have adopted. Malone.

Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Kath. So may you lose your arms:

If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why, then no arms.
Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
Kath. What is your crest? a coxcomb?

Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.”
Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so


Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.

Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not


Kath. There is, there is.

Pet. Then show it me.

Had I a glass,

I would.

Well aim'd of such a young one.

Pet. What, you mean my face?


Pet. Now, by saint George, I am too young for you.

Kath. Yet you are wither'd.



'Tis with cares.

I care not.

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you 'scape not


Kath. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.

Pet. 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 art 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,

7 a craven.] A craven is a degenerate, dispirited cock. So, in Rhodon and Iris, 1631:

"That he will pull the craven from his nest." Steevens. Craven was a term also applied to those who in appeals of battle became recreant, and by pronouncing this word, called for quarter from their opponents; the consequence of which was, that they for ever after were deemed infamous.

See note on 'Tis Pity she's a Whore. Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, Vol. VIII, p. 10, edit. 1780. Reed.

With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report, that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world! Kate, like the hazle-twig,
Is straight, and slender; and as brown in hue
As hazle nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.
Kath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
Pet. 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!
Kath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.

Kath. A witty mother! witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise?


Yes; keep you warm.9

Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine 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,1 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;

8 Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.] This is exactly the Πασσάμενος ἐπίτασσε of Theocritus, Eid. xv, v. 90, and yet I would not be positive that Shakspeare had ever read even a translation of Theocritus. Tyrwhitt.

9 Pet. Am I not wise?

Kath. Yes; keep you warm.] So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's. Scornful Lady:

your house has been kept warm, sir.

"I am glad to hear it; pray God, you are wise too." Again, in our poet's Much Ado about Nothing:

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that if he has wit enough to keep himself warm." Steevens.

1 nill you,] So, in The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington,


"Will you or nill you, you must yet go in."

Again, in Damon and Pithias, 1571:

"Neede hath no law; will I, or nill I, it must be done."


And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate2
Conformable, as other houshold Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.

Bap. Now,

Signior Petruchio: How speed you with
My daughter?


How but well, sir? how but well? It were impossible, I should speed amiss.

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katharine? in your dumps?

Kath. Call you me, daughter? now I promise you, You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,

To wish me wed to one half lunatick;

A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,

That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

Pet. 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;3
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:

And to conclude,-we have 'greed so well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

2 a wild cat to a Kate-] The first folio reads: a wild Kate to a Kate, &c.

The second folio

a wild Kat to a Kate, &c. Steevens.

The editor of the second folio with some probability readsfrom a wild Kat, meaning certainly cat. So before: "But will you woo this wild cat?" Malone.

3 — a second Grissel; &c.] So, in The Fair Maid of Bristow, 1605, bl. 1:

"I will become as mild and dutiful

"As ever Grissel was unto her lord,

"And for my constancy as Lucrece was."

There is a play entered at Stationers' Hall, May 28, 1599, called "The plaie of Patient Grissel." Bocaccio was the first known writer of the story, and Chaucer copied it in his Clerke of Oxenforde's Tale. Steevens.

The story of Grisel is older than Bocaccio, and is to be found among the compositions of the French Fabliers. Douce.

Kath. I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

Gre. Hark, Petruchio! she says, she'll see thee hang'd


Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!

Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself; If she and I be pleas'd, 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,5
How tame, when men and women are alone,

A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.

kiss on kiss

She vied so fast,] Vye and revye were terms at cards, now superseded by the more modern word, brag. Our author has in another place: "time revyes us," which has been unnecessarily altered. The words were frequently used in a sense somewhat remote from their original one. In the famous trial of the seven bishops, the chief justice says: "We must not permit vying and revying upon one another." Farmer.

It appears from a passage in Green's Tu Quoque, that to vie was one of the terms used at the game of Gleek—“ I vie it.”— "I'll none of it;"-"nor I."

The same expression occurs in Randolph's Jealous Lovers, 1632:

"All that I have is thine, though I could vie,

"For every silver hair upon my head,

"A piece of gold." Steevens.

Vie and Revie were terms at Primero, the fashionable game in our author's time. See Florio's Second Frutes, quarto, 1591: "S. Let us play at Primero then. A. What shall we play for? S. One shilling stake and three rest.—I vye it; will you hould it? A. Yea, sir, Ï hould it, and revye it.”

To out-vie Howel explains in his Dictionary, 1660, thus: “ Faire peur ou intimider avec un vray ou feint envy, et faire quitter le jeu a la partie contraire." Malone.

5 'tis a world to see,] i. e. it is wonderful to see. This expression is often met with in old historians as well as dramatic writers. So, in Holinshed, Vol. I, p. 209: "It is a world to see how many strange heartes," &c. Steevens.

6 4 meacock wretch —] i. e. a timorous dastardly creature.

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