תמונות בעמוד

What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,

“ Kate. Why man, thy master needs never know it.

San. You say true, indeed. Why looke you, miftris; • What say you to a pece of bieffe and mustard now?

Kate. Why, I say, 'tis excellent meat; canst thou helpe me to fome? . “ San. I, I could helpe you to some, but that I doubt

“ The mustard is too chollerick for you.
" But what say you to a sheepes head and garlicke?

Kate. Why any thing; I care not what it be.

San. I, but the garlicke I doubt will make your breath fincke; and then my master will course me for letting you eate it. But what say you to a fat capon?

Kate. That's meat for a king; sweete Sander help me to fome of it.

San. Nay, berlady, then 'tis too deere for us; we must not meddle with the king's meate.

Kate. Out villaine! dost thou mocke me? - Take that for thy sawsinesse.

[She beates him, « San, Sounes are you so light-fingred, with a murrin; « Ile keepe you fafting for it these two daies.

Kate. I tell thee villaine, lle tear the flesh off " Thy face and eate it, and thou prate to me thus.

" San. Here comes my master now: heele course you. « Enter Ferando with a piece of meate upon his dagger point, and

Polidor with him. Feran. See here, Kate, I have provided meat for thee: “ Here, take it: what, is't not worthy thanks? • Go, firha, take it away againe, you shall be “ Thankful for the next you have.

Kate. Why, I thanke you for it.

« Feran. Nay, now 'tis not worth a pin: go, ficha, and take it hence, I say.

San. Yes, fir, Ile carrie it hence: Master, let hir “ Have none; for she can fight, as hungry as the is.

Pol. I pray you, fir, let it stand; for ile eat • Some with her myselfe.

" Feran. Vel, sirha, set it downe againe.

« Kate. Nay, nay, I pray you, let him take it hence, “ And keere it for your own diet, for ile none; “ Ile nere be beholding to you for your meat : “ I tel thee flatly here unto thy teeth, “ Thou thalt not keepe me nor fced me as thou lift, “ For I will home againe unto my father's house.

Feron. I, when y'are meeke and gentle, but not before :

Upon entreaty, have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity :
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths 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 pr’ythee go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

GRU. What say you to a neat's foot ?
KATH. 'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee let me haveit.

Gre. I fear, it is too cholerick a meat ::-
How say you to a fat tripe, finely broil'd ?

KATH. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru. I cannot tell; I fear, 'tis cholerick. What say you to a piece of beef, and mustard ?

I know your stomacke is not yet come downe,
Therefore no marvel thou canst not eat;
“ And I will go unto your father's house.
“ Come Polidor, let us go in againe;
“ And Kate come in with us : I know, ere long,
“ That thou and I shall lovingly agree.”

The circumstance of Ferando bringing meat to Katharine on the point of his dagger, is a ridicule on Marlowe's Tamburlaine, who treats Bajazet in the same manner. STEEVENS. 3 I fear, it is too cholerick a meat:) So before :

" And I expressly am forbid to touch it;

« For it engenders choler." The editor of the second folio arbitrarily reads—too phlegmatiche a meat; which has been adopted by all the subsequent editors.

Malons. Though I have not displaced the oldest reading, that of the second folio may be right. It prevents the repetition of cholerick, and preserves its meaning; for phlegmatick, irregularly derived from 02.87 poin, might anciently have been a word in physical use, lignifying inflammatory, as phlegmonous is at present. 'STEEVENS,

KATH. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATH. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest.
Gru. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the

Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

KATH. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. GRU. Why, then the mustard without the beef. KATH. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,

[Beats bim. 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.

Enter Petruchio, with a dish of meat; and

HORTENSIO. Per. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all

amort? Hor. Mistress, what cheer? KATH.

'Faith, as cold as can be. 4 Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.] This is agreeable to the doctrine of the times. In The Glass of Humors, no date, p. 60, it is said, “ But note here, that the first diet is not only in avoiding superfluity of meats, and surfeits of drinks, but also in eschewing such as are most obnoxious, and least agreeable with our happy temperate state; as for a cholerick man to abstain from all salt, fcorched, dry meats, from mustard, and such like things as will aggravate his malignant humours," &c. '

So Petruchio before objects to the over-roasted mutton. Reed. s W hat, freeting, all amort?] This Gallicism is common to many of the old plays. So, in Wily Beguiled:

« Why how now, Sophos, all amort?" Again, in Ram Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611 :

" What all amort! What's the matter ?” STÈ EVENS. That is, all funk and dispirited. Malone. Vol. VI.


Pet. 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 :

[Sets the dish on a table. I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks. What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov'st it not; And all my pains is sorted to no proof: Here, take away this dish. KATH.

Pray you, let it stand. Pet. The poorest service is repaid with thanks; And so fhall mine, before you touch the meat.

KATH. I thank you, fir.

Hor. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame : Comne, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lov'st me.

[ Aside.

Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
Kate, eat apace:--And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house;
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things;

6 And all my pains is forted to no proof:] And all my labour has ended in nothing, or proved nothing. “We tried an experiment, but it forted not." Bacon. JOHNSON,

7_ farthingales, and things;] Though things is a poor word, yet I have no better, and perhaps the author had not another that would rhyme. I once thought to tranfpose the words rings and things, but it would make little improvement. Johnson,

However poor the word, the poet must be answerable for it, as he had used it before, Act II. sc. V. when the rhyme did not force it upon him:

We will have rings and things, and fine array.
Again, in The Tragedy of Hoffman, 1632 :

“ 'Tis true that I am poor, and yet have things,
“ And golden rings," &c.

With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. What, hast thou din’d? The tailor stays thy lei

sure, To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure. 8 —

A thing is a trifle too inconsiderable to deserve particular difcrimination. Steevens.

8 with his ruffling treasure. 1 This is the reading of the old copy, which Mr. Pope changed to ruftling, I think, without necessity. Our author has indeed in another play,“ Prouder than ruftling in unpaid for filk;" but ruffling is sometimes used in nearly the same sense. Thus, in K. Lear:

" the high winds

“ Do sorely ruffile." There clearly the idea of noise as well as turbulence is annexed to the word. A ruffler in our author's time signified a noisy and turbulent swaggerer; and the word ruffling may here be applied in a kindred sense to dress. So, in K. Henry VI. P. II:

“ And his proud wife, high-minded Eleanor,
“ That ruffles it with such a troop of ladies,

As strangers in the court take her for queen." Again, more appositely, in Camden's Remaines, 1605: “ There was a nobleman merry conceited and riotously given, that having lately sold a manor of a hundred tenements, came ruffling into the court in a new fute, saying, Am not I a mightie man that beare an hundred houses on my backe?”

Boyle speaks of the ruffling of silk, and ruffled is used by fo late an author as Addison in the sense of plaited; in which last signification perhaps the word ruffling should be understood here. Petruchio has just before told Catharine that the “ should revel it with ruffi and cuffs;" from the former of which words, ruffled, in the fenfe of plaited, seems to be derived. As rıfiling therefore may be understood either in this sense, or that first suggested, (which I incline to think the true one,) I have adhered to the reading of the old copy.

To the examples already given in support of the reading of the old copy, may be added this very apposite one from Lyly's Euphues, and his England, 1580 : “ Shall I ruffle in new devices, with chains, with bracelets, with rings, with roabes?” Again, in Drayton's Battaile of Agincourt, 1627: “ With ruffling banners, that do brave the sky."


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