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, she uttereth piercing eloquence : When I fhall ask the banns, and when be married ? Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. Cath. Well have you heard, but something 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 fometimes Kate the curft : 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 mildnefs prais'd in every Town, Thy virtues fpoke of, and thy beauty founded, Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs: Myself am mov'd to wooe thee for my wife. Cath. 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. Pet. Why, what's a moveable? Cath. A join'd ftool. Pet. Thou haft hit it; come fit on me. 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 light Cath. 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. 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 again, Good Kate, I am a gentleman. Cath. That I'll try. [She strikes him. Pet. I fwear, I'll cuff you, if you ftrike again. If you ftrike me, you are no gentleman; * Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard] Perhaps we may read better, Ay, for a turtle, and he takes a buzzard. That is, he may take me for a turtle, and he fhall find me a hawk. Pet. Pet. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen. Cath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a Craven. Pet. Nay, come, Kate; come, you must not look fo fower. Cath. It is my fashion when I fee a crab. Pét. Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not fo fower. Cath. There is, there is. Pet. Then, fhew it me. Cath. Had I glass, I would. Pet. What, you mean my face? Cath. Well aim'd of fuch a young one. Pet. Now by St. George, I am too young for you. Cath, Yet you are wither'd. Pet. 'Tis with Cares. Cath. I care not. Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate; in footh, you 'scape not fo. 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? As Kate this chamber with her princely gaite? And then let Kate be chaft, and Dien sportful! Cath. Yes; keep you warm. Pet. Why fo I mean, fweet Catharine, in thy bed: And therefore fetting all this chat afide, Thus in plain terms: your father hath confented, SCENE V. Enter Baptifta, Gremio, and Tranio. Bap. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter? Pet. How but well, Sir? how but well? It were impoffible, I should speed amifs. Bap. Why, how now daughter Catharine, in your dumps? Cath. Call you me daughter? now, I promise you, You've fhew'd a tender fatherly regard, To wifh me wed to one half lunatick; A mad-cap ruffian, and a fwearing 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 amifs of her; If fhe be curft, it is for policy; For fhe's not froward, but modeft as the dove: She She is not hot, but temperate as the morn; And, to conclude, we've 'greed fo well together, Cath. I'll fee thee hang'd on Sunday first. Gre. Hark: Petruchio! fhe fays, fhe'll fee thee hang'd first. Tra. Is this your speeding; nay, then, good night, Pet. Be patient, Sirs, I chufe her for myself; How much he loves me; oh, the kindeft Kate! Bap. I know not what to fay, but give your hands: God fend you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match. Gre. Tra. Amen, fay we; we will be witneffes. Pet. Father, and Wife, and Gentlemen, adieu; I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace, We will have rings and things, and fine array: And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday. [Ex. Petruchio, and Catharine feverally. kifs on kifs She vy'd fo faft, ] I know not that the word vie has any construction that will fuit this place; we may easily read, She ply'd fo faft! SCENE |