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Modern English
Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever man so rayed? was ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are coming after to warm them. Now, were not I a little pot and soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire to thaw me: but I, with blowing the fire, shall warm myself; for, considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis.
Ugh, ugh, on all tired horses, on all crazy masters, and all bad roads! Has any man ever been so beaten? Has any man ever been so hurt? Has any man ever been so exhausted? I’ve been sent ahead to start a fire, and they’re coming after me to warm themselves. Now, if I weren’t a small pot that heats up fast, my lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my stomach, before I even got to a fire to warm up: but I, by blowing on the fire, will warm myself; because, considering the weather, a taller man than I will catch a cold. Hey, hey! Curtis.
Who is that calls so coldly?
Who’s calling so weakly?
A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my head and my neck. A fire good Curtis.
A piece of ice: if you don’t believe it, you could slide from my shoulder to my heel with nothing more than my head and neck moving. A fire, good Curtis.
Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire; cast on no water.
Oh, yes, Curtis, yes: and that’s why we need fire, fire; don’t throw any water on it.
Is she so hot a shrew as she’s reported?
Is she really as much of a shrew as they say she is?
She was, good Curtis, before this frost: but, thou knowest, winter tames man, woman and beast; for it hath tamed my old master and my new mistress and myself, fellow Curtis.
She was, good Curtis, before this cold snap: but, you know, winter tames everyone—man, woman, and beast; because it has tamed my old master, my new mistress, and even myself, fellow Curtis.
Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
Go away, you three-inch fool! I’m no beast.
Am I but three inches? why, thy horn is a foot; and so long am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain on thee to our mistress, whose hand, she being now at hand, thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office?
Am I only three inches? Well, your horn is a foot long; and I’m at least that long. But will you make a fire, or should I complain to our mistress, whose hand, now that she’s near, you’ll soon feel, to your cold discomfort, for being slow in your hot job?
I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?
Please, good Grumio, tell me, what’s going on in the world?
A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and therefore fire: do thy duty, and have thy duty; for my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
A cold world, Curtis, everywhere except for your job; and that’s why we need fire: do your job, and you’ll be rewarded; because my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
There’s fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
The fire’s ready; so now, good Grumio, what’s the news?
Why, ’Jack, boy! ho! boy!’ and as much news as will thaw.
Why, ’Hey, boy! Hey, boy!’ and as much news as will melt away.
Come, you are so full of cony-catching!
Come on, you’re so full of tricks!
Why, therefore fire; for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept; the serving-men in their new fustian, their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on? Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without, the carpets laid, and every thing in order?
Why, then, get the fire going; because I’m freezing. Where’s the cook? Is dinner ready, the house decorated, rushes (rush mats) laid down, cobwebs cleaned? Are the servants in their new clothes, their white stockings, and every worker in their fancy clothes? Are the plates and cups clean inside, and the women all looking good outside, the carpets set, and everything in order?
All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.
Everything’s ready; so tell me, what’s going on.
First, know, my horse is tired; my master and mistress fallen out.
First, you should know, my horse is tired; my master and mistress are fighting.
How?
What happened?
Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.
They got off their horses and ended up in the dirt; and that’s where the story begins.
Let’s ha’t, good Grumio.
Let’s hear it, good Grumio.
Lend thine ear.
Lend me your ear.
Here.
Here.
There.
There.
This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
This is to feel a story, not just hear it.
And therefore ’tis called a sensible tale: and this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress,--
And that’s why it’s called a sensible story: and this slap was just to get your attention and make you listen. Now, let me begin: First of all, we came down a slippery hill, with my master riding behind my mistress,--
Both of one horse?
Both on the same horse?
What’s that to thee?
What’s it to you?
Why, a horse.
A horse.
Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me, thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse; thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was bemoiled, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me because her horse stumbled, how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me, how he swore, how she prayed, that never prayed before, how I cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was burst, how I lost my crupper, with many things of worthy memory, which now shall die in oblivion and thou return unexperienced to thy grave.
You tell the story: but if you hadn’t gotten in my way, you would’ve heard how her horse fell and she ended up under it; you would’ve heard how muddy it was, how miserable she looked, how he left her with the horse on top of her, how he hit me because her horse tripped, how she waded through the muck to pull him off me, how he swore, how she begged, something she’d never done before, how I cried, how the horses ran off, how her bridle broke, how I lost my saddle, with a lot of other things worth remembering, but now all of that will be forgotten, and you’ll go back to your grave without ever knowing it.
By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
By this logic, he’s more of a troublemaker than she is.
Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop and the rest: let their heads be sleekly combed their blue coats brushed and their garters of an indifferent knit: let them curtsy with their left legs and not presume to touch a hair of my master’s horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?
Yes; and you and the proudest of you all will see that when he gets home. But why am I talking about this? Call Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the others: make sure their heads are neatly combed, their blue coats brushed, and their garters properly tied: let them curtsy with their left legs and not dare touch a hair of my master’s horse’s tail until they’ve kissed their hands. Are they all ready?
They are.
They are.
Call them forth.
Call them in.
Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to countenance my mistress.
Do you hear? You have to greet my master to show respect to my mistress.
Why, she hath a face of her own.
Why, she’s got a face of her own.
Who knows not that?
Who doesn’t know that?
Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
You, apparently, since you’re calling for help to show respect to her.
I call them forth to credit her.
I’m calling them in to support her.
Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
But she doesn’t need anything from them.
Welcome home, Grumio!
Welcome home, Grumio!
How now, Grumio!
Hey, Grumio!
What, Grumio!
What’s up, Grumio!
Fellow Grumio!
Hey, Grumio!
How now, old lad?
What’s up, old friend?
Welcome, you;--how now, you;-- what, you;--fellow, you;--and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready, and all things neat?
Hello, you;--what’s up, you;--what’s going on, you;--man, you;--and that’s my greeting. Now, my stylish friends, is everything ready, and everything clean?
All things is ready. How near is our master?
Everything’s ready. How close is our master?
E’en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not--Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.
Almost here, just dismounted; so don’t--Damn it, silence! I hear my master.
Where be these knaves? What, no man at door To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse! Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip? ALL SERVING-MEN Here, here, sir; here, sir.
Where are these idiots? What, no one at the door To hold my stirrup or take my horse! Where’s Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip? ALL SERVING-MEN Here, here, sir; here, sir.
Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! You logger-headed and unpolish’d grooms! What, no attendance? no regard? no duty? Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! You block-headed and unpolished servants! What, no one here to help? No respect? No duty? Where’s the fool I sent ahead?
Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
Here, sir; just as foolish as I was before.
You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge! Did I not bid thee meet me in the park, And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
You peasant! You worthless, lazy good-for-nothing! Didn’t I tell you to meet me in the park, And bring these other fools with you?
Nathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made, And Gabriel’s pumps were all unpink’d i’ the heel; There was no link to colour Peter’s hat, And Walter’s dagger was not come from sheathing: There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory; The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly; Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
Nathaniel’s coat, sir, wasn’t finished, And Gabriel’s shoes weren’t even fixed at the heel; There was no ribbon for Peter’s hat, And Walter’s dagger wasn’t even out of its sheath: Only Adam, Ralph, and Gregory looked decent; The rest were ragged, old, and poor; But, as they are, here they come to meet you.
Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
Go, you fools, go, and get my dinner.
Where is the life that late I led-- Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.-- Sound, sound, sound, sound!
Where is the life I used to lead-- Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.-- Play, play, play, play!
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry. Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
Why, when, I say? No, good sweet Kate, be happy. Take off my boots, you rascals! you idiots, when?
It was the friar of orders grey, As he forth walked on his way:-- Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry: Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
It was the priest in his grey robes, As he walked along his way:-- Get out, you scoundrel! you’re messing with my foot: Take that, and fix the way you pulled off the other.
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho! Where’s my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence, And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither: One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with. Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Be happy, Kate. Some water, here; hey, what’s up? Where’s my dog Troilus? Hey, you there, get lost, And tell my cousin Ferdinand to come here: One, Kate, that you need to kiss and get to know. Where are my slippers? Can I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily. You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
Come, Kate, wash up, and welcome with all my heart. You good-for-nothing villain! will you let it drop?
Patience, I pray you; ’twas a fault unwilling.
Please be patient; I didn’t mean to do it.
A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear’d knave! Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I? What’s this? mutton?
You good-for-nothing, beetle-brained, floppy-eared fool! Come on, Kate, sit down; I know you’re hungry. Will you say thanks, sweet Kate, or should I? What’s this? Mutton?
Ay.
Yes.
Who brought it?
Who brought it?
I.
I did.
’Tis burnt; and so is all the meat. What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook? How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser, And serve it thus to me that love it not? Theretake it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
It’s burnt; and so is all the meat. What kind of dogs are these! Where’s the damn cook? How dare you, you fools, bring it from the counter, And serve it to me like this when I don’t even want it? Take it back, you idiots, with the plates, cups, and everything;
You heedless joltheads and unmanner’d slaves! What, do you grumble? I’ll be with you straight.
You careless blockheads and rude slaves! What, are you complaining? I’ll be right there with you.
I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet: The meat was well, if you were so contented.
Please, husband, don’t be so upset: The food was fine, if you were happy with it.
I tell thee, Kate, ’twas burnt and dried away; And I expressly am forbid to touch it, For it engenders choler, planteth anger; And better ’twere that both of us did fast, Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. Be patient; to-morrow ’t shall be mended, And, for this night, we’ll fast for company: Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
I’m telling you, Kate, it was burnt and dried out; And I’ve been specifically told not to eat it, Because it makes you angry, it stirs up frustration; And it’s better if we both skip eating, Since we both tend to get angry easily, Than to fuel it with such overcooked meat. Be patient; tomorrow it will be fixed, And for tonight, we’ll skip dinner to keep each other company: Come, I’ll take you to our wedding chamber.
Peter, didst ever see the like?
Peter, have you ever seen anything like this?
He kills her in her own humour.
He’s breaking her down with her own attitude.
Where is he?
Where is he?
In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her; And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul, Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak, And sits as one new-risen from a dream. Away, away! for he is coming hither.
He’s in her room, lecturing her on self-control; He’s yelling, swearing, and criticizing her, poor thing, She doesn’t know where to stand, what to look at, how to speak, She’s sitting there like she just woke up from a dream. Hurry, hurry! He’s coming this way.
Thus have I politicly begun my reign, And ’tis my hope to end successfully. My falcon now is sharp and passing empty; And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, For then she never looks upon her lure. Another way I have to man my haggard, To make her come and know her keeper’s call, That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites That bate and beat and will not be obedient. She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat; Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not; As with the meat, some undeserved fault I’ll find about the making of the bed; And here I’ll fling the pillow, there the bolster, This way the coverlet, another way the sheets: Ay, and amid this hurly I intend That all is done in reverend care of her; And in conclusion she shall watch all night: And if she chance to nod I’ll rail and brawl And with the clamour keep her still awake. This is a way to kill a wife with kindness; And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humour. He that knows better how to tame a shrew, Now let him speak: ’tis charity to show.
This is how I’ve cleverly started my reign, And I hope to finish it just as well. My falcon is now sharp and very hungry; And until she swoops down, she can’t be full, Because when she’s full, she won’t pay attention to the lure. I have another way to handle my wild falcon, To get her to come and respond to her master’s call, That is, to keep an eye on her, just like we do with these hawks That are wild, fight, and refuse to obey. She ate no food today, and she won’t eat anything else; She didn’t sleep last night, and she won’t sleep tonight; Just like with the food, I’ll find some fault With how the bed was made; And I’ll throw the pillow here, the bolster there, The coverlet this way, the sheets that way: Yes, and amid all this chaos, I intend To make sure everything is done with great care for her; And in the end, she’ll stay awake all night: And if she happens to fall asleep, I’ll yell and argue And keep making noise to keep her awake. This is how you “kill” a wife with kindness; And this is how I’ll control her wild and stubborn nature. If anyone knows a better way to tame a shrew, Let them speak up: it’s only fair to share.