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Modern English
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
No, no, truly; I can’t, it’s too risky for my life.
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears: What, did he marry me to famish me? Beggars, that come unto my father’s door, Upon entreaty have a present aims; If not, elsewhere they meet with charity: But I, who never knew how to entreat, Nor never needed that I should entreat, Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep, With oath 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 prithee go and get me some repast; I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
The worse I’m treated, the more obvious his malice is: What, did he marry me just to starve me? Beggars, who come to my father’s door, Get food right away if they ask for it; If not, they find charity somewhere else: But I, who never knew how to ask for things, Or ever needed to ask for anything, Am starving for food, dizzy from lack of sleep, Keeping myself awake with oaths and feeding off arguments: And what makes me more furious than all these miseries, Is that he does it in the name of true love; As if to say, if I should eat or sleep, It would be a terrible sickness or instant death. I beg you, go and get me something to eat; I don’t care what, just as long as it’s healthy food.
What say you to a neat’s foot?
How about a neat’s foot?
’Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
That’s fine, I beg you, bring it to me.
I fear it is too choleric a meat. How say you to a fat tripe finely broil’d?
I’m afraid it might be too rich and heavy. How about a nice, fatty tripe, grilled?
I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
I like that idea: good Grumio, go get it for me.
I cannot tell; I fear ’tis choleric. What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
I don’t know; I’m afraid it might be too rich. How about a piece of beef with mustard?
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
That’s one of my favorite things to eat.
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
Yes, but the mustard might be a bit too spicy.
Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
Well then, give me the beef, and leave the mustard.
Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
No, I won’t do that: you’ll get the mustard, Or you won’t get any beef from me.
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
Then give me both, or just one, or whatever you want.
Why then, the mustard without the beef.
Fine, then, just the mustard without the beef.
Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
Go away, you lying, deceiving servant,
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.
You feed me with the mere name of food: Shame on you and all your kind, Who take pleasure in making me suffer! Go away, I said.
How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
How is my Kate? What’s the matter, sweetheart, looking so down?
Mistress, what cheer?
Mistress, how are you?
Faith, as cold as can be.
Honestly, I’m as cold as I can be.
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: I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks. What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not; And all my pains is sorted to no proof. Here, take away this dish.
Come on, cheer up; look at me with a happy face. Look, love, see how hard I’m working To prepare your meal and bring it to you: I’m sure, sweet Kate, this effort deserves some thanks. What, not a word? Then you don’t appreciate it; All my efforts are going to waste. Take this dish away.
I pray you, let it stand.
Please, let it stay.
The poorest service is repaid with thanks; And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
The simplest service deserves thanks; And so will mine, before you even touch the food.
I thank you, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame. Come, mistress Kate, I’ll bear you company.
Sir Petruchio, shame on you! You’re in the wrong. Come on, mistress Kate, I’ll keep you company.
[Aside] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me. 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 fardingales and things; With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery, With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery. What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure, To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
[Aside] Eat it all, Hortensio, if you love me. I hope it does your kind heart some good! Kate, eat quickly: and now, my sweet love, We will go back to your father’s house And party as grandly as anyone, With silk coats, hats, and gold rings, With collars and cuffs and fancy dresses and things; With scarves and fans and two changes of fine clothes, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this nonsense. What, have you eaten? The tailor’s waiting for you, To dress you up in his fancy clothes.
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments; Lay forth the gown.
Come on, tailor, let’s see these clothes; Bring out the gown.
What news with you, sir?
What’s the news, sir?
Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
Here’s the cap you asked for, sir.
Why, this was moulded on a porringer; A velvet dish: fie, fie! ’tis lewd and filthy: Why, ’tis a cockle or a walnut-shell, A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby’s cap: Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.
This was made to fit a soup bowl; A velvet dish: ugh, ugh! it’s cheap and dirty: It’s a cockle shell or a walnut shell, A gimmick, a toy, a trick, a baby’s hat: Get rid of it! Come on, give me a bigger one.
I’ll have no bigger: this doth fit the time, And gentlewomen wear such caps as these
I don’t want a bigger one: this fits the occasion, And women of quality wear caps like this.
When you are gentle, you shall have one too, And not till then.
When you act like a lady, you can have one too, But not until then.
[Aside] That will not be in haste.
[Aside] That won’t be happening anytime soon.
Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak; And speak I will; I am no child, no babe: Your betters have endured me say my mind, And if you cannot, best you stop your ears. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, Or else my heart concealing it will break, And rather than it shall, I will be free Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
Why, sir, I hope I can speak; And when I speak, I will; I’m no child, no baby: Your betters have allowed me to speak my mind, And if you can’t handle it, you’d better cover your ears. My tongue will express the anger in my heart, Or else my heart will break if I keep it inside, And I’d rather speak freely, Even if it’s to the fullest, as I like, with words.
Why, thou say’st true; it is a paltry cap, A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie: I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.
Well, you’re right; it is a cheap cap, A dessert box, a trinket, a silk pie: I love you for not liking it.
Love me or love me not, I like the cap; And it I will have, or I will have none.
Whether you love me or not, I like the cap; And I’ll have it, or I won’t have any.
Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see’t. O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here? What’s this? a sleeve? ’tis like a demi-cannon: What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart? Here’s snip and nip and cut and slish and slash, Like to a censer in a barber’s shop: Why, what, i’ devil’s name, tailor, call’st thou this?
Your gown? Oh, yes: come on, tailor, let’s see it. Oh my God! what is this ridiculous thing? What’s this? A sleeve? It looks like a cannon: What, up and down, carved like a pie? Here’s snip, snip, cut, slash, like a censer in a barber’s shop: What in the devil’s name, tailor, do you call this?
[Aside] I see she’s like to have neither cap nor gown.
[Aside] I can see she’s not going to accept either cap or gown.
You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion and the time.
You told me to make it neat and proper, Following the style and the current trend.
Marry, and did; but if you be remember’d, I did not bid you mar it to the time. Go, hop me over every kennel home, For you shall hop without my custom, sir: I’ll none of it: hence! make your best of it.
Yes, I did; but if you remember correctly, I didn’t tell you to ruin it with the trend. Go, jump over every puddle on your way home, Because you’ll be jumping without my approval, sir: I don’t want it: go away! Do your best with it.
I never saw a better-fashion’d gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable: Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
I’ve never seen a better-made dress, More unusual, more attractive, or more worthy of praise: Maybe you plan to make a fool of me.
Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
Yes, exactly; he does plan to make a fool of you.
She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.
She says you plan to make a fool of her.
O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble, Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail! Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou! Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread? Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant; Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest! I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr’d her gown.
What outrageous pride! You’re lying, you little piece of thread, you thimble, You tape measure, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter-yard, nail! You flea, you louse, you winter cricket! Insulting me in my own house with a spool of thread? Get out of here, you rag, you scrap, you leftover; Or I’ll hit you with your own measuring tape Until you wish you’d never talked so much in your life! I tell you, I say that you ruined her dress.
Your worship is deceived; the gown is made Just as my master had direction: Grumio gave order how it should be done.
You’re mistaken; the dress was made Exactly as my master instructed: Grumio gave the orders on how it should be done.
I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
I gave no orders; I only gave him the fabric.
But how did you desire it should be made?
But what did you want it to look like?
Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
Well, sir, with a needle and thread.
But did you not request to have it cut?
But didn’t you ask for it to be cut?
Thou hast faced many things.
You’ve misunderstood a lot of things.
I have.
I have.
Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.
Don’t try to fool me: you’ve insulted many people; don’t insult me; I won’t be intimidated or challenged. I’m telling you, I told your master to cut out the dress, but I didn’t tell him to cut it to pieces: so, you’re lying.
Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
But here is the design to prove
Read it.
Let me see it.
The note lies in’s throat, if he say I said so.
The note is wrong if he says I said that.
[Reads] ’Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:’
[Reads] ’First, a loose-fitting gown:’
Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said a gown.
Master, if I ever said "loose-fitting gown," sew me into the hem of it and beat me to death with a spool of brown thread: I said a gown.
Proceed.
Go on.
[Reads] ’With a small compassed cape:’
[Reads] ’With a small, rounded cape:’
I confess the cape.
I agree with the cape.
[Reads] ’With a trunk sleeve:’
[Reads] ’With a trunk sleeve:’
I confess two sleeves.
I agree with two sleeves.
[Reads] ’The sleeves curiously cut.’
[Reads] ’The sleeves intricately cut.’
Ay, there’s the villany.
Ah, there’s the trick.
Error i’ the bill, sir; error i’ the bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and sewed up again; and that I’ll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
There’s a mistake in the order, sir; a mistake in the order. I ordered the sleeves to be cut out and sewn back together again; and I’ll prove it to you, even if your little finger is stuck in a thimble.
This is true that I say: an I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.
What I say is true: if I had you in the right place, you’d understand it.
I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
I’m ready for you: take the order, give me your measuring tape, and don’t hold back.
God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
God bless you, Grumio! Then he shall have no advantage.
Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
Well, in short, the gown isn’t for me.
You are i’ the right, sir: ’tis for my mistress.
You’re right, sir: it’s for my mistress.
Go, take it up unto thy master’s use.
Go, pick it up for your master’s use.
Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress’ gown for thy master’s use!
You fool, not for your life: pick up my mistress’ dress for your master’s use!
Why, sir, what’s your conceit in that?
Why, what’s your idea behind that, sir?
O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for: Take up my mistress’ gown to his master’s use! O, fie, fie, fie!
Oh, sir, the idea is much deeper than you think: Pick up my mistress’ dress for his master’s use! Oh, shame, shame, shame!
[Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid. Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
[Aside] Hortensio, tell him you’ll pay the tailor. Go, take it away; get out of here, and don’t say anything more.
Tailor, I’ll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow: Take no unkindness of his hasty words: Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
Tailor, I’ll pay you for the dress tomorrow: Don’t take offense at his hasty words: Go away! I say; give my regards to your master.
Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father’s Even in these honest mean habiliments: Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; For ’tis the mind that makes the body rich; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peereth in the meanest habit. What is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his fathers are more beautiful? Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye? O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse For this poor furniture and mean array. if thou account’st it shame. lay it on me; And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith, To feast and sport us at thy father’s house. Go, call my men, and let us straight to him; And bring our horses unto Long-lane end; There will we mount, and thither walk on foot Let’s see; I think ’tis now some seven o’clock, And well we may come there by dinner-time.
Well, come on, my Kate; we’ll go to your father’s house Even in these humble, simple clothes: Our purses will be proud, but our clothes poor; Because it’s the mind that makes the body rich; And just as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, Honour shines even in the most modest attire. What is the jay more valuable than the lark, Just because its feathers are more beautiful? Or is the snake better than the eel, Just because its skin looks more attractive? Oh, no, good Kate; you aren’t any worse For these poor clothes and simple appearance. If you think it’s shameful, blame me for it; And so, let’s be cheerful: we’ll leave right away, To feast and have fun at your father’s house. Go, call my men, and let’s go straight to him; And bring our horses to the end of Long Lane; There we’ll mount, and then walk on foot Let’s see; I think it’s around seven o’clock now, And we’ll probably get there by dinner-time.
I dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two; And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
I’m sure, sir, it’s almost two; And it will be supper-time before you get there.
It shall be seven ere I go to horse: Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do, You are still crossing it. Sirs, let’t alone: I will not go to-day; and ere I do, It shall be what o’clock I say it is.
It’ll be seven o’clock before I go to the horse: Look, everything I say, do, or plan to do, You’re always contradicting it. Guys, leave it alone: I won’t go today; and before I do, It will be whatever time I say it is.
[Aside] Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
[Aside] So this guy thinks he can control the sun.