Enter Katharina.

Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. Kath. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing;

They call me-Katharine, that do talk of me.
Pet. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain

Kate,

And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate-Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all cates: and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;-
Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
(Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,)
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.

Kath. Mov'd! in good time: let him that mov'd

you hither,

Remove you hence: I knew you at the first,

You were a moveable.

Pet.

Kath. A joint-stool.

Why, what's a moveable?

Pet. Kath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you. Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you. Kath. No such 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 light,Kath. Too light for such a swain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Pet. Should be? should buz.

Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.

Kath.

Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Pet. O, slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take

thee?

Kath. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i'faith, you are too angry.

Kath. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out.
Kath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his
sting?

Whose tongue?

Kath. Yours, if you talk of tails; and so farewel. Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay,

come again,

Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

Kath.

That I'll try.

[Striking him.

Pet. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Kath. So may you lose your arms:

If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
And if no gentleman, why, then no arms.

Pet. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books.
Kath. What is your crest? a coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
Kath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a

craven.

Pet. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look

so sour.

Kath. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.

Pet. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not

Pet. Now, by saint George, I am too young for

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you 'scape

not so.

Kath. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.

Pet. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle. 'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar;

For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous;
But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers:
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askaunce,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will;
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report, that Kate doth limp?
O slanderous world! Kate, like the hazle-twig,
Is straight, and slender; and as brown in hue
As hazle nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.
Kath. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
Pet. Did ever Dian so become a grove,

As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!
Kath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Kath. A witty mother! witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise?

Kath.

Yes; keep you warm.

Pet. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, in thy

bed:

And therefore, setting all this chat aside,

Thus in plain terms:-Your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And, will
you, nill you, I will marry you.

Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
(Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,)
Thou must be married to no man but me:
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate;
And bring you from a wild Cat to a Kate
Conformable, as other houshold Kates.
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Katharine to my wife.

Re-enter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio.

Bap. Now,

Signior Petruchio: How speed you with

My daughter?

Pet.

How but well, sir? how but well?

It were impossible, I should speed amiss.

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katharine? in.

your dumps?

Kath. Call you me, daughter? now, I promise you, You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,

To wish me wed to one half lunatick;

A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

Pet. Father, 'tis thus,-yourself and all the world,
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her;
If she be curst, it is for policy:

For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel;
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:

And to conclude,-we have 'greed so well together,
That upon sunday is the wedding-day.

Kath. I'll see thee hang'd on sunday first.

Gre. Hark, Petruchio! she says, she'll see thee hang'd first.

Tra. Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!

Pet. Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for my

self;

If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you? 'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone, That she shall still be curst in company.

I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe

How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate!-
She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.

O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
How tame, when men and women are alone,

A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.