Bap. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray? Bap. A mighty man of Pifa; by Report [To Hortenfio and Lucentio, You fhall go fee your pupils presently. Holla, within! Enter a Servant. Sirrah, lead thefe gentlemen To my two daughters; and then tell them Both, [Exit. Serv, with Hortenfio and Lucentio. Pet. Signior Baptifta, my business asketh haste, Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands: D3 you, father, Tho' Tho' little fire grows great with little wind, For I am rough, and wooe not like a babe. Bap. Well may'st thou wooe, and happy be thy speed! But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words. Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, That thake not, tho' they blow perpetually. Enter Hortenfio with his head broke. Bap. How now, my friend, why doft thou look fo pale? Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mu fician? Hor. I think, fhe'll fooner prove a foldier; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? As on a pillory, looking through the lute; And twangling Jack, with twenty fuch vile terms, Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lufty wench I love her ten times more than e'er I did; Bap. Well, go with me, and be not fo difcomfited, Signior Signior Petruchio, will you go with us, [Exit. Bap. with Grem. Horten. and Tranio. Say, that the frowns; I'll fay, the looks as clear And fay, the uttereth piercing eloquence: When I shall ask the banns, and when be married? SCENE Enter Catharina. IV. Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. Cath. Well have you heard, but fomething hard of hearing. They call me Catharine, that do talk of me. Pet. You lye, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate. And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst: But Kate, the prettieft Kate in christendom, Kate of Kate-ball, my fuper-dainty Kate, (For dainties are all Cates) and therefore Kate; Take this of me, Kate of my confolation! Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every Town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty founded, Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs: Myfelf am mov'd to wooe thee for my wife. Catb. Mov'd?-in good time-let him that mov'd you hither, Remove you hence; I knew you at the firft You were a moveable. Pet. Why, what's a moveable? Cath. A join'd ftool. Pet. Thou haft hit it; come, fit on me. i Cath. Affes are made to bear, and fo are you. Pet. Women are made to bear, and fo are you. Cath. No fuch jade, Sir, as you; if me you mean. Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee; For knowing thee to be but young and lightCath. Too light for fuch a fwain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight fhould be. Pet. Should bee; fhould buz. Cath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. Oh, flow-wing'd turtle, fhall a buzzard take thee? Cath. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.* Cath. Ah, if the fool could find it, where it lies. Pet. Who knows not, where a wasp doth wear his fting? In his tail. Cath. In his tongue. Pet. Whofe tongue? Cath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and fo farewel. Pet. What with my tongue in your tail? nay, come If Cath. That I'll try. [She ftrikes bim. Pet. I fwear, I'll cuff you, if you ftrike again. Cath. So may you lofe your arms; you ftrike me, you are no gentleman; And if no gentleman, why then, no arms. Pet. A herald, Kate? oh, put me in thy books, Cath. What is your crelt, a coxcomb ? Ay, for a turtle, as he takes buzzard. a buzzard.] Perhaps we may read better, Ay, for a turtle, and he takes a That is, he may take me for a turtle, and he hall find me a hawk. Pet. Pet. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen. Cath. It is my fashion when I fee a crab. Pet. Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not fo fower. Cath. There is, there is. Pet. Then, fhew it me. Cath. Had a glass, I would. Pet. What, you mean my face? Cath. Well aim'd of fuch a young one. ~~~ Pet. 'Tis with Cares. Cath. I care not. Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in footh, you 'scape not so. Cath. I chafe you if I tarry; let me go. Pet. No, not a whit; I find you paffing gentle: 'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy and fullen, And now I find Report a very liar; For thou art pleasant, gamefom, paffing courteous, Nor haft thou pleasure to be cross in talk: Why doth the world report, that Kate doth limp? Cath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'ft command. As Kate this chamber with her princely gaite? And |