Duty

By Meredith Piper

            This morning, after I had my new dress put on, my older sister Katherina came into my room with a piece of embroidery thread to tie my hands together. I could only allow her, because I am the one who knows my duty to my elders; I could not let her be able to say otherwise. I offered her my dress and jewels, but she said that she wanted to discover whether I loved either of my suitors. I told her the truth—I have never been in love. Though both Signors Gremio and Hortensio are honorable men who would make good husbands, they are not the sort to inspire love. Gremio is so old that he is no longer handsome, and Hortensio has always seemed a bit weak-willed. I was the first to have a suitor, and since then Kate has been envious of me.

            She struck me on the cheek when I asked her to release me. It made me weep to be so humiliated by a sister I had once admired. When we were younger I was the one who was envious—she was prettier and older than me; she could wear nicer dresses and our late mother’s jewels. Now I see her as a shrew, as everyone else sees her.

            Fortunately, our father saw her strike me. He is the only one who can control my stubborn sister. He sent me into the parlor, where I can embroider another handkerchief and look out the open window at the streets of Padua and the people walking along them. Kate is sitting in a chair across the room—she has kept quiet so far.

            My sister is a fool to think that she will be able to stay at home forever. If she acted more modest, like people want her to act, I think she could make a man love her. Then she could leave and let me be the mistress of a house—either our own or a husband’s. Our father will not let her keep living here; I am sure he will find her a husband that she deserves if she cannot make herself deserving of a good one.

            Our father knows to do what is proper, as I do. He will see Katherina married before me, as she is the elder sister by two years. I will study and be accomplished because that is what my father expects of me. My suitors have done what is expected of them as well; they sent tutors for me and Kate when my father asked. Kate began to speak again when these men were introduced—no sooner had the man introduced as Litio made the mistake of correcting her that she threw the lute at him and called him many names as she chased him out of the room. I and the other tutor, Cambio, could not get started on a Latin lecture; we could only watch her outrageous demonstration. Soon afterward, our father came to tell Kate the unbelievable news that she has a suitor. She glumly went to meet this foolish man, who will certainly be gone once he has met Kate. I also have another suitor, a Lucentio from Pisa. He is as gentlemanly as the other two suitors; I am still not sure which suitor I prefer.

            This Petruchio has actually agreed to marry Kate. Though she continually rails against his nature, our father is still going to let them marry on Sunday. I would have thought that she would be glad to have a husband; that she was simply always unable to control herself in front of others, but she actually seems frightened underneath her loudness.

            Neither of my tutors has managed to teach me anything. Kate was busy being prepared for her wedding, so both of the “tutors” vied for my attention. Litio, whom I could see was Signor Hortensio in disguise once I looked at his face, only tries to tell me this obvious fact with a “gamut”. Cambio also tells me that he is one of my suitors. He claims to be Lucentio, but he does not look like the Lucentio I was introduced to by my father. He is a considerably more intriguing puzzle than Hortensio, which is why I have gone along with his tricks of sending Hortensio away when he wants to “teach” me.

            I went to help Kate dress her chamber. I did most of the work; she was uninterested in what her new husband will think of her or her chamber. At least now she is quiet; though she was always in my way finding somewhere to sit.

            Petruchio came to his own wedding very late, and in mismatched, old clothes. Kate was upset, and for the first time in years I sympathized with her. I know that our father is as desperate to get rid of Kate as I am, but I am not sure that he should have allowed this man to court Kate. I thought she deserved a poor man, not an insane one.

            My efforts to prepare Kate’s chamber were in vain, because after the ceremony Petruchio took her away on the long journey to his own house. I did not have a chance to speak with my sister before she left. I sat at her place at the wedding feast with the pretend Lucentio, who is actually Lucentio’s manservant Tranio, in the place of the groom. During the feast, Tranio confirmed Cambio’s story that he is pretending to be Lucentio while the real Lucentio plays Cambio. Both Lucentio and Petruchio were clever enough to fool my father, and though I know that he loves me more than Kate, I fear that my father could be fooled by another clever man. I know that Lucentio is kind and handsome as well as clever, and that my father might marry me to a man like Petruchio if he had more money. My father will only look at their wealth and may not be able to see what kind of man I will owe a duty to for the rest of my life. Tranio told me about a plan to get rid of Hortensio as a suitor. I will go along with it—Hortensio thinks me too much a fool. Tranio is nearly as clever as his master.

            The house is much quieter without Kate. I smile as I imagine her making Petruchio’s house as noisy as our own has been, but then remember that Petruchio is rather loud himself. Perhaps they deserve each other, but I worry that Petruchio might drive my sister insane with his taming. Now that Kate is married, I will soon be married to one of my suitors, and I think that I will be glad to leave this house.

            Hortensio has stopped trying to speak to me, so now there is no one to interfere with my planning with Lucentio. He only has to have his father’s consent to make himself my father’s choice of husband for me. He does not believe that his own father will consent to my father’s conditions, so he will get Tranio to find a false father who will agree. Who would notice a pretend father when there is a pretend Lucentio? I could marry much worse men than Lucentio; we will both ignore our duties to our fathers.

            Lucentio and I carried out his plan and married at Saint Luke’s while everyone else was still waiting for me to get ready for my wedding to Tranio. Though no one but Lucentio’s servant Biondello was there, at least we will have the appropriate wedding feast when we get back to my father’s house.

            When we arrived at Lucentio’s house, a man Lucentio identified as his right father was there along with my own father, arguing with each other and with Tranio. Kate and her husband were standing in front of the house as well. We asked our fathers’ pardons, but my father still seemed angry with me, and though I don’t owe him a duty anymore, it still hurt me to look at his face and see such disappointment in me. Lucentio thought that I was worried about his own father’s anger, but I suspected that he and my father would forgive us and each other soon. My father can at least be trusted to do what is proper, and his father seems like the kind of man who would not like a scandal either.

            After the wedding feast, I withdrew to the parlor with Kate and Hortensio’s new wife. Kate seems completely changed—happier, but unlike herself, as if possessed by a furiously cheerful spirit. I again regretted not being able to speak to her before she left after her wedding. I could not bear to talk to her, so I picked up my embroidery again. Biondello came in with a request from my husband to come back into the dining hall. I told him that I was busy—I don’t understand why my husband should have such a foolish request for me to return to a place I have just left. Kate was the only one of us who came when she was called for. She also forced us to come with her—she tells us about duty to her husband and I see now that that is what she has become. All of her aggressiveness is now bent to her husband’s benefit. After my father’s disappointment, I can no longer feel as though I have failed in my duty. For once I was glad that I had failed, that I am still myself.