Cath. Why then the beef, and let the mustard rest. Grum. Nay, that I will not, you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio. Catb. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt, That feed'st me only with the name of meat ⚫ Go, get thee gone, I say. Pet. How fares Enter PETRUCHIO. my Kate? [Beats bim What, sweeting, all amort? Mistress, what cheer? Pet. Pluck up thy spirits, look chearful upon me. Catb. Refresh'd! with what? Pet. We will return unto thy father's house, With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings, Enter Taylor. Come, taylor, let us see these ornaments. Enter Haberdasher. Lay forth the gown-What news with you, Sir? A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap. Catb. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time, Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too, And not till then. Catb. Why, Sir; I trust I may have leave to speak, N 3 And And speak I will; I am no child, no babe; Pet. Thou say'st true, Kate; it is a paultry cap, I love thee well, in that thou lik'st it not. Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap; And I will have it, or I will have none. Pet. Thy gown? why aye; come, taylor, let me see t. Why, what the devil's name, taylor, call'st thou this? Pet. Mary and did: but if you be remember'd, I did not bid you marr it to the time. Go, hop me over every kennel home; For you shall hop without my custom, Sir; Cath. I never saw a better fashioned gown, Pet. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee. Tay, She says your worship means to make a puppet of her. Pet. Oh! most monstrous arrogance! Thou lyest, thou-thread, thou thimble, Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail. As thou shall think on prating whilst thou liv'st; Tay. Your worship is deceiv'd, the gown is made just as my 1 1 i my master had direction; Grumio gave orders how it should Grum. I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff. Grum. Tho' thou hast fac'd many things face not me; I say unto thee, I bid thy master cut the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo, thou liest. Tay. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify. Tay. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown. Grum. Master, if ever I said a loose-bodied gown, sew me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said a gown. Pet. Proceed. Tay. With a small compass cape. Fay. With a trunk sleeve. Grum. Error i' th' bill, Sir; error i' th' bill; I commanded the sleeves should be cut out, and sow'd up again, and that I'll prove upon thee, tho' thy little finger be arm'd in a thimble. Tay. This is true that I say; an' I had thee in a place thou should'st know it. Grum. I am for thee, straight: come on you parchment shred! [They fight. Pet. What, chickens sparr in presence of the kite! I'll swoop upon you both: out, out, ye vermin. [Beats 'em off. Cath. For heav'n's sake, Sir, have patience! how you fright me ! [Cryng. Pet. Well, come my Kate; we will unto your father's. Even in these honest, mean habiliments: Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye? can Pet. Cannot, my Kate! O fie! indeed you Or e'er 1 journey to your father's house : my Evermore crost, and crost; nothing but crost! Cath. I know it is the moon. Pet. Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun. But sun it is not, when you say it is not; And so it shall be for your Catbarine. Pet. Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl shall run, But soft, some company is coming here, Enter BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA. Such Such war of white and red within her cheeks! Cath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet, Whither away, or where is thy abode ? Happy the parents of so fair a child; Happier the man whom favourable stars Pet. Why, how now, Kate; I hope thou art not mad ! This is Baptista, our old reverent father; And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is. Catb. Pardon, dear father, my mistaken eyes, [kneels. Bapt. Rise, rise, my child; what strange vigary's this? And to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy. To wish and have our will. Pet. Peace, brawler, peace, Or I will give the meek Hortensio, Your husband, there, my taming recipe. Bian. Lord, never let me have a cause to sigh, 'Till I be brought to such a siily pass. Grum. (to Bapt) Did I not promise you, Sir, my ma ster's discipline wou'd work miracles? Bapt. I scarce believe my eyes and ears. |