ACT II. SCENE I.
Padua. BAPTISTA'S house

Enter KATHERINA and BIANCA

  BIANCA. Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
    To make a bondmaid and a slave of me-
    That I disdain; but for these other gawds,
    Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself,
    Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
    Or what you will command me will I do,
    So well I know my duty to my elders.
  KATHERINA. Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
    Whom thou lov'st best. See thou dissemble not.
  BIANCA. Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
    I never yet beheld that special face
    Which I could fancy more than any other.
  KATHERINA. Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?
  BIANCA. If you affect him, sister, here I swear
    I'll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
  KATHERINA. O then, belike, you fancy riches more:
    You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
  BIANCA. Is it for him you do envy me so?
    Nay, then you jest; and now I well perceive
    You have but jested with me all this while.
    I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
  KATHERINA. [Strikes her]  If that be jest, then an the rest was
so.

                            Enter BAPTISTA

  BAPTISTA. Why, how now, dame! Whence grows this insolence?
    Bianca, stand aside- poor girl! she weeps.
                                                [He unbinds her]
    Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
    For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
    Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
    When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
  KATHERINA. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd.
                                            [Flies after BIANCA]
  BAPTISTA. What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
                                                     Exit BIANCA
  KATHERINA. What, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
    She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
    I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,
    And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
    Talk not to me; I will go sit and weep,
    Till I can find occasion of revenge.          Exit KATHERINA
  BAPTISTA. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I?
    But who comes here?

        Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man;
         PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO,
    as LUCENTIO, with his boy, BIONDELLO, bearing a lute and
books

  GREMIO. Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
  BAPTISTA. Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.
    God save you, gentlemen!
  PETRUCHIO. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
    Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?
  BAPTISTA. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katherina.
  GREMIO. You are too blunt; go to it orderly.
  PETRUCHIO. You wrong me, Signior Gremio; give me leave.
    I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
    That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
    Her affability and bashful modesty,
    Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
    Am bold to show myself a forward guest
    Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
    Of that report which I so oft have heard.
    And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
    I do present you with a man of mine,
                                          [Presenting HORTENSIO]
    Cunning in music and the mathematics,
    To instruct her fully in those sciences,
    Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
    Accept of him, or else you do me wrong-
    His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
  BAPTISTA. Y'are welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
    But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
    She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
  PETRUCHIO. I see you do not mean to part with her;
    Or else you like not of my company.
  BAPTISTA. Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
    Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
  PETRUCHIO. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son,
    A man well known throughout all Italy.
  BAPTISTA. I know him well; you are welcome for his sake.
  GREMIO. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
    Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
    Bacare! you are marvellous forward.
  PETRUCHIO. O, pardon me, Signior Gremio! I would fain be doing.
  GREMIO. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.
    Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To
    express the like kindness, myself, that have been more kindly
    beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young
    scholar  [Presenting LUCENTIO]  that hath been long studying
at
    Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as
the
    other in music and mathematics. His name is Cambio. Pray
accept
    his service.
  BAPTISTA. A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio. Welcome, good
Cambio.
    [To TRANIO]  But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a
stranger.
    May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
  TRANIO. Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own
    That, being a stranger in this city here,
    Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
    Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
    Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me
    In the preferment of the eldest sister.
    This liberty is all that I request-
    That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
    I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo,
    And free access and favour as the rest.
    And toward the education of your daughters
    I here bestow a simple instrument,
    And this small packet of Greek and Latin books.
    If you accept them, then their worth is great.
  BAPTISTA. Lucentio is your name? Of whence, I pray?
  TRANIO. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
  BAPTISTA. A mighty man of Pisa. By report
    I know him well. You are very welcome, sir.
    Take you the lute, and you the set of books;
    You shall go see your pupils presently.
    Holla, within!

                         Enter a SERVANT

    Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
    To my daughters; and tell them both
    These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.

                Exit SERVANT leading HORTENSIO carrying the lute
                                     and LUCENTIO with the books

    We will go walk a little in the orchard,
    And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
    And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
  PETRUCHIO. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
    And every day I cannot come to woo.
    You knew my father well, and in him me,
    Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
    Which I have bettered rather than decreas'd.
    Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
    What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
  BAPTISTA. After my death, the one half of my lands
    And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.
  PETRUCHIO. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of
    Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
    In all my lands and leases whatsoever.
    Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
    That covenants may be kept on either hand.
  BAPTISTA. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
    That is, her love; for that is all in all.
  PETRUCHIO. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
    I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
    And where two raging fires meet together,
    They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
    Though little fire grows great with little wind,
    Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
    So I to her, and so she yields to me;
    For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
  BAPTISTA. Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed
    But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
  PETRUCHIO. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
    That shake not though they blow perpetually.

             Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broke

  BAPTISTA. How now, my friend! Why dost thou look so pale?
  HORTENSIO. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
  BAPTISTA. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
  HORTENSIO. I think she'll sooner prove a soldier:
    Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
  BAPTISTA. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
  HORTENSIO. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
    I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
    And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
    When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
    'Frets, call you these?' quoth she 'I'll fume with them.'
    And with that word she struck me on the head,
    And through the instrument my pate made way;
    And there I stood amazed for a while,
    As on a pillory, looking through the lute,
    While she did call me rascal fiddler
    And twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms,
    As she had studied to misuse me so.
  PETRUCHIO. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
    I love her ten times more than e'er I did.
    O, how I long to have some chat with her!
  BAPTISTA. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited;
    Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
    She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.
    Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
    Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
  PETRUCHIO. I pray you do.             Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO
    I'll attend her here,
    And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
    Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain
    She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
    Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
    As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.
    Say she be mute, and will not speak a word;
    Then I'll commend her volubility,
    And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
    If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
    As though she bid me stay by her a week;
    If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
    When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
    But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.

                        Enter KATHERINA

    Good morrow, Kate- for that's your name, I hear.
  KATHERINA. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
    They call me Katherine that do talk of me.
  PETRUCHIO. You lie, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
    And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
    But, Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
    Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
    For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
    Take this of me, Kate of my consolation-
    Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
    Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
    Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
    Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.
  KATHERINA. Mov'd! in good time! Let him that mov'd you hither
    Remove you hence. I knew you at the first
    You were a moveable.
  PETRUCHIO. Why, what's a moveable?
  KATHERINA. A join'd-stool.
  PETRUCHIO. Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
  KATHERINA. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
  PETRUCHIO. Women are made to bear, and so are you.
  KATHERINA. No such jade as you, if me you mean.
  PETRUCHIO. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
    For, knowing thee to be but young and light-
  KATHERINA. Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
    And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
  PETRUCHIO. Should be! should- buzz!
  KATHERINA. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
  PETRUCHIO. O, slow-wing'd turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
  KATHERINA. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
  PETRUCHIO. Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.
  KATHERINA. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
  PETRUCHIO. My remedy is then to pluck it out.
  KATHERINA. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
  PETRUCHIO. Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
    In his tail.
  KATHERINA. In his tongue.
  PETRUCHIO. Whose tongue?
  KATHERINA. Yours, if you talk of tales; and so farewell.
  PETRUCHIO. What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
    Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
  KATHERINA. That I'll try.                    [She strikes him]
  PETRUCHIO. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
  KATHERINA. So may you lose your arms.
    If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
    And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
  PETRUCHIO. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!
  KATHERINA. What is your crest- a coxcomb?
  PETRUCHIO. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
  KATHERINA. No cock of mine: you crow too like a craven.
  PETRUCHIO. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
  KATHERINA. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.
  PETRUCHIO. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.
  KATHERINA. There is, there is.
  PETRUCHIO. Then show it me.
  KATHERINA. Had I a glass I would.
  PETRUCHIO. What, you mean my face?
  KATHERINA. Well aim'd of such a young one.
  PETRUCHIO. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
  KATHERINA. Yet you are wither'd.
  PETRUCHIO. 'Tis with cares.
  KATHERINA. I care not.
  PETRUCHIO. Nay, hear you, Kate- in sooth, you scape not so.
  KATHERINA. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.
  PETRUCHIO. 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 springtime 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;
    With gentle conference, soft and affable.
    Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
    O sland'rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
    Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
    As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
    O, let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.
  KATHERINA. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
  PETRUCHIO. 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!
  KATHERINA. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
  PETRUCHIO. It is extempore, from my mother wit.
  KATHERINA. A witty mother! witless else her son.
  PETRUCHIO. Am I not wise?
  KATHERINA. Yes, keep you warm.
  PETRUCHIO. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, 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, 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,
    And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
    Conformable as other household Kates.

               Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO

    Here comes your father. Never make denial;
    I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
  BAPTISTA. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my
daughter?
  PETRUCHIO. How but well, sir? how but well?
    It were impossible I should speed amiss.
  BAPTISTA. Why, how now, daughter Katherine, in your dumps?
  KATHERINA. Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
    You have show'd a tender fatherly regard
    To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
    A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
    That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
  PETRUCHIO. 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,
    And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
    And, to conclude, we have 'greed so well together
    That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
  KATHERINA. I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
  GREMIO. Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee hang'd first.
  TRANIO. Is this your speeding? Nay, then good-night our part!
  PETRUCHIO. 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,
    How tame, when men and women are alone,
    A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
    Give me thy hand, Kate; I will unto Venice,
    To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
    Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
    I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine.
  BAPTISTA. I know not what to say; but give me your hands.
    God send you joy, Petruchio! 'Tis a match.
  GREMIO, TRANIO. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.
  PETRUCHIO. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu.
    I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace;
    We will have rings and things, and fine array;
    And kiss me, Kate; we will be married a Sunday.
                        Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA severally
  GREMIO. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
  BAPTISTA. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
    And venture madly on a desperate mart.
  TRANIO. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
    'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
  BAPTISTA. The gain I seek is quiet in the match.
  GREMIO. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
    But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter:
    Now is the day we long have looked for;
    I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
  TRANIO. And I am one that love Bianca more
    Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess.
  GREMIO. Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
  TRANIO. Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.
  GREMIO. But thine doth fry.
    Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.
  TRANIO. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
  BAPTISTA. Content you, gentlemen; I will compound this strife.
    'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
    That can assure my daughter greatest dower
    Shall have my Bianca's love.
    Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?
  GREMIO. First, as you know, my house within the city
    Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
    Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
    My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
    In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
    In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
    Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
    Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
    Valance of Venice gold in needle-work;
    Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
    To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm
    I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
    Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
    And all things answerable to this portion.
    Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
    And if I die to-morrow this is hers,
    If whilst I live she will be only mine.
  TRANIO. That 'only' came well in. Sir, list to me:
    I am my father's heir and only son;
    If I may have your daughter to my wife,
    I'll leave her houses three or four as good
    Within rich Pisa's walls as any one
    Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
    Besides two thousand ducats by the year
    Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
    What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?
  GREMIO. Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
    [Aside]  My land amounts not to so much in all.-
    That she shall have, besides an argosy
    That now is lying in Marseilles road.
    What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?
  TRANIO. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
    Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses,
    And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
    And twice as much whate'er thou off'rest next.
  GREMIO. Nay, I have off'red all; I have no more;
    And she can have no more than all I have;
    If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
  TRANIO. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world
    By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied.
  BAPTISTA. I must confess your offer is the best;
    And let your father make her the assurance,
    She is your own. Else, you must pardon me;
    If you should die before him, where's her dower?
  TRANIO. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.
  GREMIO. And may not young men die as well as old?
  BAPTISTA. Well, gentlemen,
    I am thus resolv'd: on Sunday next you know
    My daughter Katherine is to be married;
    Now, on the Sunday following shall Bianca
    Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
    If not, to Signior Gremio.
    And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
  GREMIO. Adieu, good neighbour.                   Exit BAPTISTA
    Now, I fear thee not.
    Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool
    To give thee all, and in his waning age
    Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy!
    An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.              Exit
  TRANIO. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide!
    Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.
    'Tis in my head to do my master good:
    I see no reason but suppos'd Lucentio
    Must get a father, call'd suppos'd Vincentio;
    And that's a wonder- fathers commonly
    Do get their children; but in this case of wooing
    A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
 Exit

Inside Baptista's home, Katharina has bound her sister's hands. She demands that Bianca say which of her suitors she prefers, and when Bianca does not, Katharina slaps her. Baptista enters and rescues his younger daughter, reprimanding Katharina. Katharina rails against him as well before leaving Baptista alone to greet the arrival of Gremio, Lucentio , Petruchio, Hortensio , Tranio , and Biondello. Shocking Baptista, Petruchio explains that he has come to Padua from Verona to verify reports of Katharina's modesty and meekness, and has brought with him musician to instruct Katharina. Baptista is skeptical until Petruchio remarks that he is the son of Antonio, whereupon Baptista, who knows the man well, welcomes the suitor to his house. Gremio, in turn, presents Lucentio as a Latin teacher. Appropriately, Gremio introduces the disguised Lucentio as Cambio . Tranio next explains that he is a suitor to Bianca, alludes to his wealthy parentage and requests to be granted as much access as her other suitors; as a token of appreciation, he presents a lute and a packet of Greek and Latin books. As soon as Tranio notes that he is "son to Vincentio" of Pisa , Baptista grants him the access he seeks. Baptista then calls for a servant to escort the tutors to his daughters. Petruchio then abruptly demands of Baptista what dowry he will receive when he marries Katharina, upon which Baptista replies: "After my death the one half of my lands,/And in possession twenty thousand crowns." Petruchio is satisfied, and reassures Baptista that he will successfully woo the feisty Katharina. Just then, Hortensio reenters with a broken lute on his head, explaining that, when he tried to correct Katharina's fingering on the instrument, she promptly attacked him with it. Petruchio, far from disturbed, declares that he is all the more eager to "chat with her." Soon Katharina appears and the others leave Petruchio to woo her. A battle of wits ensues, filled with sexual puns and insults. Petruchio indicates that, whether she wants to or not, he will take her for his wife. Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio join them and Petruchio happily informs the men that he has won Katharina's heart and that the two will be married on Sunday. Katharina snaps back: "I'll see thee hanged on Sunday first." Petruchio reassures his companions that Kate and he have agreed that while in public she will remain "curst" though they will be affectionate in private. He takes Katharina by his arm and exits, leaving Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio to marvel at the speed of his conquest. Now that Katharina seems to be taken care of, Baptista moves on to the subject of his younger daughter, promising her to whomever procures the "greatest dower." It is soon clear that it Tranio's wealth is greater. However, Baptista notes that he requires Tranio's father's "assurance" that Tranio has the wealth available. If this assurance is procured, Bianca belongs to Tranio; if not, she goes to Gremio. Tranio determines to find someone to play the part of Vincentio, in order to allow him to win Bianca.

Paradox is central to the comedy of Shrew. While preparing himself for Katharina's entrance, Petruchio proclaims his intention to believe the opposite of whatever Kate tries to say about herself: "Say that she rail, why then I'll tell her plain/She sings as sweetly as a nightingale."  This strategy dominates the following interaction, in which language itself comes under close scrutiny. Although Petruchio stubbornly refuses to accept the things Kate says - and, vice versa, she is unable to accept the things he says - there is a clear affinity in the way they say them. Their connection is through rather than content; through rhetoric rather than meaning. They share little more than a style of delivery. But that alone seems to be the basis of a genuine compatability. Consider these lines: KATHARINA: "Asses are made to bear, and so are you." PETRUCHIO: "Women are made to bear, and so are you." KATHARINA: "No such jade as you, if me you mean." PETRUCHIO: "Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee,/For knowing thee to be but young and light." KATHARINA: "Too light for such a swain as you to catch,/And yet as heavy as my weight should be." PETRUCHIO: "Should be? Should-buzz!" KATHARINA: "Well ta'en, and like a buzzard." Read the above lines aloud. Get a sense of their rhythm and punch. Sure, they are disagreeing on the surface, but Kate and Petruchio share one another's language, spinning puns  out of insults and insults out of puns. The first two lines quoted above echo one another syllable for syllable, with a play on the word "bear" . After an interjection by Katharina, Petruchio launches into a couplet which is swiftly answered by the woman. This pattern of call and response, of rhyme and repetition gives way, in line 206, to a single line stretched between two speakers, so that the meter suggested by "Should be? Should-buzz!" is completed by "Well ta'en, and like a buzzard." Thus Kate and Petruchio have subtly merged in a single verse. Though they don't seem to get along at all, this cooperative insulting foreshadows their coming marital union. This paradoxical combination of combat and compatibility makes The Taming of the Shrew one of Shakespeare's most influential plays. Shrew is perhaps the first of a host of romantic comedies, ranging from the theatrical works of Shaw to Hollywood's screwball comedies and beyond, that use this strategy. Katharina finally becomes Petruchio's because he is the only man around who can match her in a battle of wits. The game of love is a game of poetic one-upmanship. Grumio recognizes this when he assures Hortensio back in Act One that Petruchio will conquer the feisty Katharina, no matter how sharp-tongued she may be: "I'll tell you what, sir: an she stand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face and so disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a cat."  In describing his master, Grumio seems to adopt some of his facility: the noun "figure" becomes the verb "disfigure," leaving no doubt that Petruchio's language is a decidedly violent weapon. Indeed, words replace blows when it comes to Petruchio and Katharina. Whereas Katharina physically smashes a lute over Hortensio's head, she relies on her tongue when it comes to Petruchio. Tranio, too, demonstrates the power of language in the play. He plays Lucentio's part well, convincing Baptista and the others. Tranio's ability to pull of the trick is based in part in his costume, but more so in his language. The imagery of riches he conjures up in his contest with Gremio easily beats that of his old and foolish rival. Words, therefore, break down social barriers. That said, words are not enough for the time being in Tranio's case. Baptista demands that Tranio obtain his father's "assurance," declining to trust Tranio's words alone. Yet Tranio will prove able to provide assurance through yet more theater - yet more masquerade and trickery. So far in the play, there is little that a successful manipulation of illusion, whether of words or appearances, can not accomplish.

Chaos rules at Baptista's house the next morning as Katherine chases Bianca, cursing at her in a fury. Katherine has tied Bianca's hands together and is trying to beat her sister because Bianca will not tell her which of the suitors she prefers. When Baptista comes in to try to break up the fight, he only angers Katherine more by showing that he favors Bianca. Both sisters leave in a huff, just before a group of visitors enters to see Baptista. The group is composed of the gentlemen who were on their way to the pub at the end of the last scene: Gremio with Lucentio , Petruchio with Hortensio , and Tranio with Biondello . The introductions begin in a whirlwind of deception. Petruchio starts off, bluntly as always, by asking Baptista for the opportunity to see Katherine. In exchange, he offers a music instructor for her, the disguised Hortensio, whom he introduces as Litio. Baptista accepts the present and intends to tell Petruchio as kindly as possible that Petruchio must be crazy to want to see Katherine, when Gremio, who cannot stand being upstaged, interrupts him. Gremio presents his own schoolmaster, the disguised Lucentio, whom he calls Cambio, a master of classical languages. Baptista accepts the gift and then hears from Tranio, who, pretending to be Lucentio, presents his own gift of books and a lute, in exchange for the permission to see and woo Bianca. The two phony schoolmasters leave to ply their trades on Bianca, while Petruchio presses Baptista further for information about Katherine. After confirming that a substantial dowry will accompany his successful wooing of Katherine, Petruchio assures Baptista of his abilities. Hortensio cuts him off by returning, his head now bleeding--apparently, when Hortensio attempted to teach Katherine how to play the lute, she promptly took the instrument and smashed it over his head. Undaunted, Petruchio waits for Baptista to send Katherine out to see him. He decides to adopt the tactic of calling her "Kate" and good-naturedly contradicting everything she says. Abrasive as always, Katherine tears into Petruchio from the moment he sets foot in her room. Petruchio's quick wit, though, proves equal to hers, and Katherine, used to skewering the slower-witted men by whom she is surrounded, finds his aptitude for sparring highly frustrating. They engage in a lengthy verbal duel with elaborate puns, each one constructing a new metaphor from the other's comments--Kate's puns generally insult or threaten, but Petruchio twists them into sexual innuendo. Eventually, she becomes so enraged that she hits him, but he continues the game just the same, saying that he will marry her whether or not she is willing: "will you, nill you, I will marry you" . When Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio enter to check on Petruchio's progress, he claims that they have already agreed upon Sunday as the wedding day. Kate, shocked, contradicts him, but he ignores her objections and insists to the other men that Katherine cannot keep her hands off him. Strangely, Kate remains silent after this remark, and when Petruchio again claims that they will marry on Sunday, she says nothing, and they both leave. After recovering from the shock of the hasty arrangement they have just witnessed, Gremio and Tranio immediately move to the matter of Bianca, who suddenly will be available after Sunday. Baptista says that whichever of the suitors can best ensure that Bianca will be provided for when she is a widow--in other words, whichever has the greatest wealth--may have her hand. Having assumed the false, unknown identity of Lucentio, Tranio is able to claim that he has limitless funding and simply guarantees ten times whatever Gremio offers. Baptista agrees to award Bianca to Lucentio as soon as his father can guarantee the wealth that he has claimed. Tranio, confident of his ability to play the part of Lucentio, believes he can produce Lucentio's father as well.

Although the turning point of the action in a Shakespearean play usually occurs in the third act, here, in Act II, we already witness an emotional turning point for Kate when she fails to refute Petruchio's assertion that they are engaged. Her silence at the end of this scene is remarkable. She has always used her tongue liberally to get her way, and here, when Petruchio seems to force marriage upon her, a decision that will affect the rest of her life, she lapses into silence. As before, when Baptista is present, the men ignore Kate, talking about her, not to her. In the same way, Petruchio treats her like she doesn't exist when telling the others of their wedding plans. In fact, Petruchio thinks so little of what Kate replies that Gremio, fearing that Petruchio's presumptuous confidence will impede his own chances of marrying Bianca, reiterates what Kate initially says to him: "Hark, Petruchio, she says she'll see thee hanged first" . Inexplicably, when Petruchio persists, she actually complies. Kate's compliance with Petruchio's decree may surprise us, but if we consider her as essentially misunderstood by the other characters, her behavior may appear more understandable. The men view her as a shrew, but they care very little about the origins of her shrewish nature. Nor do they wonder why Kate chooses to maintain her behavior. If her temper results from her frustration with the dim-witted qualities of the men around her, one easy explanation for her acceptance of Petruchio would be that he is her equal in wit and willpower. Indeed, compared to the other suitors who simply run from Kate's temper, Petruchio fires a countering shot at each and every one of her arrows. Petruchio displays an admirable wit, and, in this verbal duel of puns and double entendres, we see quintessential Shakespeare inventiveness and linguistic skill. On the other hand, Petruchio does not respect Kate, or at least he pretends to disrespect her for the sake of the game. It seems strange that Kate's independent personality would be willing to accept someone who gives her just as little credit as did the other suitors merely because he can match her wit. At the beginning of the scene, though, Kate shows that she may have another motive for complying with Petruchio. When fighting with Bianca, she admits that she is jealous because of the fact that her sister is being courted and will probably soon marry. She says to Baptista: "She  is your treasure, she must have a husband. / I must dance barefoot on her wedding day, / And for your love to her lead apes in hell" .  Here, Kate appears to be frustrated by the fact that her biological clock is ticking, but she finds herself caught in a vicious circle: she hates the suitors because they do not want to marry her, and men will not marry her because she makes it so obvious that she hates them. Perhaps Petruchio's indefatigable nature has broken the cycle, or it may be that he is the first man to speak kind words to her, even if he did not truly mean them. Whereas Hortensio and Gremio make it very clear when they are put off by Kate's sharpness, Petruchio amiably covers it up with praise: "For she's not froward, but modest as the dove. / She is not hot, but temperate as the morn" . After Petruchio invokes this simile, Kate's resistance falters. It will return, but Petruchio clearly did not miss the mark with his strategy, which capitalizes on her need for acceptance. In this scene, Kate shows that she is doubly miserable in her existence as an unmarried girl, having alienated herself from the society she despised. It may be that marriage represents a new beginning for Kate, a chance to take on a new social role and possibly find a more satisfying way to integrate herself into her surroundings.


ACT III. SCENE I.
Padua. BAPTISTA'S house

Enter LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, HORTENSIO as LICIO, and BIANCA

  LUCENTIO. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
    Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
    Her sister Katherine welcome'd you withal?
  HORTENSIO. But, wrangling pedant, this is
    The patroness of heavenly harmony.
    Then give me leave to have prerogative;
    And when in music we have spent an hour,
    Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
  LUCENTIO. Preposterous ass, that never read so far
    To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
    Was it not to refresh the mind of man
    After his studies or his usual pain?
    Then give me leave to read philosophy,
    And while I pause serve in your harmony.
  HORTENSIO. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
  BIANCA. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong
    To strive for that which resteth in my choice.
    I am no breeching scholar in the schools,
    I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
    But learn my lessons as I please myself.
    And to cut off all strife: here sit we down;
    Take you your instrument, play you the whiles!
    His lecture will be done ere you have tun'd.
  HORTENSIO. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
  LUCENTIO. That will be never- tune your instrument.
  BIANCA. Where left we last?
  LUCENTIO. Here, madam:
    'Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus,
    Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.'
  BIANCA. Construe them.
  LUCENTIO. 'Hic ibat' as I told you before- 'Simois' I am
Lucentio-
    'hic est' son unto Vincentio of Pisa- 'Sigeia tellus'
disguised
    thus to get your love- 'Hic steterat' and that Lucentio that
    comes a-wooing- 'Priami' is my man Tranio- 'regia' bearing my
    port- 'celsa senis' that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
  HORTENSIO. Madam, my instrument's in tune.
  BIANCA. Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.
  LUCENTIO. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
  BIANCA. Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat Simois'
I
    know you not- 'hic est Sigeia tellus' I trust you not- 'Hic
    steterat Priami' take heed he hear us not- 'regia' presume
not-
   'celsa senis' despair not.
  HORTENSIO. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
  LUCENTIO. All but the bass.
  HORTENSIO. The bass is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
    [Aside]  How fiery and forward our pedant is!
    Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
    Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
  BIANCA. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
  LUCENTIO. Mistrust it not- for sure, AEacides
    Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
  BIANCA. I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
    I should be arguing still upon that doubt;
    But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you.
    Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
    That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
  HORTENSIO.  [To LUCENTIO]  You may go walk and give me leave
      awhile;
    My lessons make no music in three Parts.
  LUCENTIO. Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait,
    [Aside]  And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
    Our fine musician groweth amorous.
  HORTENSIO. Madam, before you touch the instrument
    To learn the order of my fingering,
    I must begin with rudiments of art,
    To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
    More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
    Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
    And there it is in writing fairly drawn.
  BIANCA. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
  HORTENSIO. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
  BIANCA.  [Reads]
         '"Gamut" I am, the ground of all accord-
         "A re" to plead Hortensio's passion-
         "B mi" Bianca, take him for thy lord-
         "C fa ut" that loves with all affection-
         "D sol re" one clef, two notes have I-
         "E la mi" show pity or I die.'
    Call you this gamut? Tut, I like it not!
    Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice
    To change true rules for odd inventions.

                       Enter a SERVANT

  SERVANT. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
    And help to dress your sister's chamber up.
    You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.
  BIANCA. Farewell, sweet masters, both; I must be gone.
                                       Exeunt BIANCA and SERVANT
  LUCENTIO. Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
 Exit
  HORTENSIO. But I have cause to pry into this pedant;
    Methinks he looks as though he were in love.
    Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
    To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale-
    Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging,
  HORTENSIO will be quit with thee by changing.             Exit

SCENE II.
Padua. Before BAPTISTA'So house

Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO as LUCENTIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA,
LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, and ATTENDANTS

  BAPTISTA.  [To TRANIO]  Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed
day
    That Katherine and Petruchio should be married,
    And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
    What will be said? What mockery will it be
    To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
    To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
    What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
  KATHERINA. No shame but mine; I must, forsooth, be forc'd
    To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
    Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen,
    Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
    I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
    Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour;
    And, to be noted for a merry man,
    He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
    Make friends invited, and proclaim the banns;
    Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
    Now must the world point at poor Katherine,
    And say 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
    If it would please him come and marry her!'
  TRANIO. Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista too.
    Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
    Whatever fortune stays him from his word.
    Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
    Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
  KATHERINA. Would Katherine had never seen him though!
                    Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others
  BAPTISTA. Go, girl, I cannot blame thee now to weep,
    For such an injury would vex a very saint;
    Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

                           Enter BIONDELLO

    Master, master! News, and such old news as you never heard
of!
  BAPTISTA. Is it new and old too? How may that be?
  BIONDELLO. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?
  BAPTISTA. Is he come?
  BIONDELLO. Why, no, sir.
  BAPTISTA. What then?
  BIONDELLO. He is coming.
  BAPTISTA. When will he be here?
  BIONDELLO. When he stands where I am and sees you there.
  TRANIO. But, say, what to thine old news?
  BIONDELLO. Why, Petruchio is coming- in a new hat and an old
    jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots
    that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd; an
old
    rusty sword ta'en out of the town armoury, with a broken
hilt,
    and chapeless; with two broken points; his horse hipp'd, with
an
    old motley saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides,
possess'd
    with the glanders and like to mose in the chine, troubled
with
    the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls,
sped
    with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
    stark spoil'd with the staggers, begnawn with the bots,
sway'd in
    the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with a
    half-cheek'd bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather which,
    being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often
    burst, and now repaired with knots; one girth six times
piec'd,
    and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for
her
    name fairly set down in studs, and here and there piec'd with
    pack-thread.
  BAPTISTA. Who comes with him?
  BIONDELLO. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'd
like
    the horse- with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey
boot-hose
    on the other, gart'red with a red and blue list; an old hat,
and
    the humour of forty fancies prick'd in't for a feather; a
    monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
    footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
  TRANIO. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
    Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd.
  BAPTISTA. I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
  BIONDELLO. Why, sir, he comes not.
  BAPTISTA. Didst thou not say he comes?
  BIONDELLO. Who? that Petruchio came?
  BAPTISTA. Ay, that Petruchio came.
  BIONDELLO. No, sir; I say his horse comes with him on his back.
  BAPTISTA. Why, that's all one.
  BIONDELLO. Nay, by Saint Jamy,
             I hold you a penny,
             A horse and a man
             Is more than one,
             And yet not many.

                  Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO

  PETRUCHIO. Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home?
  BAPTISTA. You are welcome, sir.
  PETRUCHIO. And yet I come not well.
  BAPTISTA. And yet you halt not.
  TRANIO. Not so well apparell'd
    As I wish you were.
  PETRUCHIO. Were it better, I should rush in thus.
    But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?
    How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown;
    And wherefore gaze this goodly company
    As if they saw some wondrous monument,
    Some comet or unusual prodigy?
  BAPTISTA. Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day.
    First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
    Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
    Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
    An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
  TRANIO. And tell us what occasion of import
    Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
    And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
  PETRUCHIO. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
    Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
    Though in some part enforced to digress,
    Which at more leisure I will so excuse
    As you shall well be satisfied withal.
    But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
    The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
  TRANIO. See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
    Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
  PETRUCHIO. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
  BAPTISTA. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
  PETRUCHIO. Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with
words;
    To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
    Could I repair what she will wear in me
    As I can change these poor accoutrements,
    'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
    But what a fool am I to chat with you,
    When I should bid good-morrow to my bride
    And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
                                  Exeunt PETRUCHIO and PETRUCHIO
  TRANIO. He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
    We will persuade him, be it possible,
    To put on better ere he go to church.
  BAPTISTA. I'll after him and see the event of this.
              Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, BIONDELLO, and ATTENDENTS
  TRANIO. But to her love concerneth us to add
    Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
    As I before imparted to your worship,
    I am to get a man- whate'er he be
    It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn-
    And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
    And make assurance here in Padua
    Of greater sums than I have promised.
    So shall you quietly enjoy your hope
    And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
  LUCENTIO. Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster
    Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
    'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
    Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
    I'll keep mine own despite of all the world.
  TRANIO. That by degrees we mean to look into
    And watch our vantage in this business;
    We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
    The narrow-prying father, Minola,
    The quaint musician, amorous Licio-
    All for my master's sake, Lucentio.

                           Re-enter GREMIO

    Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
  GREMIO. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
  TRANIO. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
  GREMIO. A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed,
    A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
  TRANIO. Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible.
  GREMIO. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
  TRANIO. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
  GREMIO. Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him!
    I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
    Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
    'Ay, by gogs-wouns' quoth he, and swore so loud
    That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
    And as he stoop'd again to take it up,
    This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
    That down fell priest and book, and book and priest.
    'Now take them up,' quoth he 'if any list.'
  TRANIO. What said the wench, when he rose again?
  GREMIO. Trembled and shook, for why he stamp'd and swore
    As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
    But after many ceremonies done
    He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
    He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
    After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel,
    And threw the sops all in the sexton's face,
    Having no other reason
    But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
    And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
    This done, he took the bride about the neck,
    And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
    That at the parting all the church did echo.
    And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
    And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
    Such a mad marriage never was before.
    Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.         [Music plays]

       Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO,
                         GRUMIO, and train

  PETRUCHIO. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
    I know you think to dine with me to-day,
    And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer
    But so it is- my haste doth call me hence,
    And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
  BAPTISTA. Is't possible you will away to-night?
  PETRUCHIO. I must away to-day before night come.
    Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
    You would entreat me rather go than stay.
    And, honest company, I thank you all
    That have beheld me give away myself
    To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
    Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
    For I must hence; and farewell to you all.
  TRANIO. Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
  PETRUCHIO. It may not be.
  GREMIO. Let me entreat you.
  PETRUCHIO. It cannot be.
  KATHERINA. Let me entreat you.
  PETRUCHIO. I am content.
  KATHERINA. Are you content to stay?
  PETRUCHIO. I am content you shall entreat me stay;
    But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
  KATHERINA. Now, if you love me, stay.
  PETRUCHIO. Grumio, my horse.
  GRUMIO. Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses.
  KATHERINA. Nay, then,
    Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
    No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
    The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
    You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
    For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
    'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom
    That take it on you at the first so roundly.
  PETRUCHIO. O Kate, content thee; prithee be not angry.
  KATHERINA. I will be angry; what hast thou to do?
    Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
  GREMIO. Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.
  KATHERINA. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
    I see a woman may be made a fool
    If she had not a spirit to resist.
  PETRUCHIO. They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
    Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
    Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
    Carouse full measure to her maidenhead;
    Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.
    But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
    Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
    I will be master of what is mine own-
    She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,
    My household stuff, my field, my barn,
    My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing,
    And here she stands; touch her whoever dare;
    I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
    That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
    Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
    Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
    Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
    I'll buckler thee against a million.
                         Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and GRUMIO
  BAPTISTA. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.
  GREMIO. Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.
  TRANIO. Of all mad matches, never was the like.
  LUCENTIO. Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
  BIANCA. That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
  GREMIO. I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
  BAPTISTA. Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom
wants
    For to supply the places at the table,
    You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
    Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place;
    And let Bianca take her sister's room.
  TRANIO. Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
  BAPTISTA. She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
                                                          Exeunt

Lucentio and Hortensio, disguised respectively as Cambio and Litio, vie for the attention of the fair Bianca. Bianca seems thoroughly amused by the competition, and decides that Lucentio may lecture her while Hortensio tunes his lute; once the instrument is in tune, Hortensio may then take over the lesson. Lucentio leaps into action with his "lesson," confessing his identity and his love under the guise of a Latin translation. Bianca responds with her own variant of the game, telling him, through her own "translation," that she does not know him and cannot trust him - but that he should "despair not." Hortensio fares less well than Lucentio when he tries to confess his love through a scale on the lute. Bianca dismisses the rouse and all but Hortensio exit at a servant's bidding to help prepare Katharina's room for her wedding tomorrow. Alone on stage, Hortensio notes that Cambio appeared to be courting Bianca, and declares that if Bianca is unable to be faithful to him, he won't be faithful to her either. The next day, the company all wait in preparation for Katharina's wedding. Petruchio, however, is no where to be seen. Katharina, for her part, breaks down and runs from the scene weeping, and for once Baptista sympathizes with her. At that moment Biondello rushes in and says that Petruchio is on his way, wearing outrageously distasteful clothes, riding a diseased horse only a step away from death, and accompanied by a servant as badly dressed as his master. When Petruchio finally appears, with Grumio at his side, his appearance lives up to Biondello's fanciful account. Baptista and the others are mortified. Petruchio, however, refuses to dignify his appearance, and they follow him to his wedding. Lucentio and Tranio remain while the rest attend Petruchio's wedding. Tranio explains that Baptista requires Vincentio's assurance and declares his intention to disguise someone as Vincentio. Their plotting is cut short, however, as Gremio appears and provides a detailed account of the raucous wedding, wherein Petruchio scandalized the company. The wedding party arrives and Petruchio claims that he must leave and cannot stay for his own wedding dinner. Katharina entreats that her husband wait for her. However, Petruchio sweeps Katharina away dramatically. The scene ends with the dazed Baptista telling Tranio that the feast will go on as planned, and that he and Bianca may take the seats of the bride and bridegroom.

Having spent some time with the disguised Tranio, the audience is now shown Lucentio's acting abilities as Cambio. It is appropriate that Lucentio has disguised himself as a scholar, for he originally claimed to come to Padua to pursue education. Just as Tranio uses lofty language to contribute to the illusion of nobility, Lucentio uses lofty Latin words to sneak in the truth of his pursuit of Bianca. Thus the tension between superficial education and below-the-surface desire continues. The Latin passage that Lucentio pretends to translate for Bianca is fitting, as it describes Priam's palace, thus evoking several Classical images of lust. The Trojan War began with Paris's abduction of Helen - just as Lucentio intends to "abduct" Bianca. Also, that war was won with the Trojan Horse; Lucentio is, in his way, a Trojan Horse wheeled into the enemy's gates under the guise of a gift. Moreover, the name "Priam" evokes phallic imagery, as the Greek god of fertility was called Priapus. That Lucentio is able to use legitimate figures and allusions to Greek history in order to woo Bianca furthers the tendency in Shrew to balance erudition and lust. He has not strayed far from his intention to pursue education, yet he finds himself embroiled in an undercover seduction. Shakespeare, it seems, prefers living the passions and lessons of the ancients to merely reading about them. In his way, Lucentio is merely living out Tranio's advice at the play's opening - he's mixing pleasure with academics, or, as Tranio put it, mixing Ovid with Aristotle. This could be taken as a motto for the play as a whole, which mixes the bawdiness and eroticism of Ovid with the Classical orderliness of Aristotle's rules of drama. Hortensio is not as successful as Lucentio in balancing his roles as teacher and wooer. Where Lucentio speaks his words of love to Bianca, Hortensio writes them; where Lucentio reveals himself for who he truly is, Hortensio never does. Bianca's hint to Lucentio - "despair not" - suggests that his method may be working; she offers no such consolation to Hortensio. She does not smash his lute against his head, as Katharina did, but her words strike nearly as fierce a blow: "Call you this gamut? Tut, I like it not./Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice/To change the true rules for odd inventions." Her invocation of "old fashions" lingers in the mind, especially when Petruchio appears in the following scene. His behavior flouts convention and tradition at every opportunity: he is tardy, when he does appear he's dressed outlandishly, he curses in church and he refuses to stay for his own wedding dinner. This strategy of exagerrating his beastliness as much as possible is designed to tame Katharina. Indeed, that famous convention-flaunter and "scold" is unable to get a word in edgewise; she is reduced to defending the status quo against Petruchio's outrageousness. His bombast overwhelms her capacity for bombast. She does try to reassert her power, insisting that Petruchio remain for the wedding feast: "Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure" .  But her refusal to be subjugated only spurs Petruchio to even more outrageous behavior, as he orders Grumio to draw his sword and steals away with Katharina from the threat of "thieves."  His closing line is full of pompous masculinity and false chivalry: "Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate!" However obvious Petruchio's dominance appears, there is ambiguity in who really has the upper hand as the scene ends. Old Gremio remarks, "I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated."  This suggests many interpretations. Perhaps he means that Petruchio is in store for a severe scolding. Perhaps that it is Petruchio who has been swept away by Kate - and not the other way around. But most likely of all, it seems, is that Petruchio, in adopting the bombastic ways of his wife, has been more changed by her than she has by him. Shakespeare's exploration of their power struggle continues in the final Acts of the play.