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Petruchio's Country-house.
Enter Catharina, and Grumio.

To, no, forsooth, I dare not for


Cath. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to familh me?
Beggars that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty, have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
And that which spites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love:
As who would say, if I should sleep, or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death.
I pr’ythee, go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

Gru. What say you to a neat's foot ?
Cath. 'Tis passing good; I pr’ythee, let me have it.

Gru. I fear, it is too phlegmatick a meat:
How say you to a fat tripe finely broild?

Cath. i like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru. I cannot tell; I fear, it's cholerick:
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard ?

Cath. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
Gru. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
Cath. Why, then the beef, and let the mustard rest.


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Gru. Nay then, I will not; you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Cath. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why, then the mustard e’en without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, [beats him. That feed’ft me with the very name of meat : Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you That triumph thus upon my misery! Go, get thee gone, I say.

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Enter Petruchio and Hortensio with meat.
Pet. How fares my Kate? what, sweeting, all amort?
Hor. Mistress, what cheer?
Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be.

Pet. Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me;
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee :
I'm sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word ? nay then, thou lov'st it not:
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away the dish.

Cath. Pray, let it stand.

Pet. The poorest service is repay'd with thanks,
And so shall mine before you touch the meat.
Cath. I thank


fir. Hor. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame : Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me. - [afide. Much good do it unto thy gentle heart ! Kate, eat apace: and now, my honey love, Will we return unto thy father's house, And revel it as bravely as the best, With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings,

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With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things :
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of brav’ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, haft thou din’d? the tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his rustling treasure.


Enter Tailor.
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments :

Enter Haberdasher.
Lay forth the gown. What news with you, fır? ha!

Hab. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer,
A velvet dish; fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy :
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too, And not till then.

Hor. That will not be in haste.

Cath. Why, sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak;
And speak I will: I am no child, no babe ;
Your þetters have endur'd me say my mind;
And, if you cannot, beft you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the


of my heart,
Or else my heart, concealing it, will break :
And, rather than it shall, I will be free
Even to the utmost, as I please, in words.

Pet. Why, thou say'st true, it is a paltry cap,
A custard coffin, a bauble, a filken pie;
I love thee well, in that thou lik'st it not.

Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap;



What, up

And I will have it, or I will have none.

Pet. Thy gown? why, ay; come, tailor, let us seeʼt.
O, mercy, heav'n! what masking stuff is here?
What? this a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon;

and down carv'd like an apple-tart?
Here's snip, and nip, and cut, and flish, and Nash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
Why, what o’devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

Hor. I see, she's like to’ve neither cap nor gown. [afide.

Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion of the time.

Pet. Marry, and did: but, if you be remember'd,
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go, hop me over every kennel home,

shall hop without my custom, fir: I'll none of it; hence, make your best of it.

Cath. I never saw a better fashion'd gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
Tai. She says, your worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet. O monstrous arrogance !
Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble thou! thou liest,
Thou yard, three quarters, half yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou !
Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant,
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard,
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st !
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr’d her gown.

Tai. Your worship is deceiv’d, the gown is made
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.

Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff. .
Tai. But how did you desire it should be made?
Gru. Marry, fir, with needle and thread.

Tai. But did you not request to have it cut?
Gru. Thou haft fac’d many things.
Tai. I have.

Gru. Face not me: thou hast brav'd many men; brave not me: I will neither be fac'd nor brav’d. I say unto thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou lieft.

Tai. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.
Pet. Read it.
Gru. The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
Tai. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.

Gru. Master, if ever I said, 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.
Tai. With a small compast cape.
Gru. I confess the cape.
Tai. With a trunk sleeve.
Gru. I confess two sleeves.
Tai. The sleeves curiously cut.
Pet. Ay, there's the villany.

Gru. Errour i'th' bill, sir, errour i'th' bill: I commanded the fleeves should be cut out, and sew'd up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tai. This is true that I say, an I had thee in place where, thou should'ft know it.

Gru. I am for thee straight : take thou the bill, give me thy meteyard, and spare me not.

Hor. God-amercy, Grumio, then he shall have no odds.
Pet. Well, fir, in brief, the gown

is not for me. Gru. You are i'th' right, sir; 'is for my

mistress. Pet. Go, take it up unto thy master's use.

Gru. Villain, not for thy life': take up my mistress's gown for thy master's use ! Pet. Why, fir, what's your conceit in that ? Gru. O, sir, the conceit is deeper than


think for: Vol. II.



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