KATHERINA

I pray you sir, is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? I faith sir, you shall never need to fear, Iwis it is not half way to her heart: But if it were, doubt not, her care should be, To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool, And paint your f ce, and use you Like a fool. Why and I trust I may go too, may I not? What shall I be appointed hours, as though (Belike) I knew not what to take, And what to leave? Would. Exit Of all thy suitors here I charge tell Whom thou lovest best: see thou dissemble not. Minion thou liest: It's not Hortensio? O then belike you fancy riches more. You will have Gremio to keep you fair. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged. What will you not suffer me: Nay now I see She is your treasure, she must have a husband, I must dance barefoot on her wedding day, And for your love to her, led Apes in hell. Talk not to me, I will go fit and weep, Till I can find occasion of revenge. Well have you herd, but some thing hard of hearing: They call me Katerine, that do talk of me. Moved in good time, let him that moved you hither Remove you hence: I Knew you at the first You were a moveable. Asses are made to bear, and so are you, No such Jade as you, if me you mean Too light for such a swain as you to catch, And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Well taken, and Like a buzzard. I for a Turtle as he takes a buzzard. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. I, If the fool could find it where it lies. In his tongue? Yours if you talk of tails, and so farewell. That I'll try. she strikes him So may you lose your arms. If you strike me, you are no Gentleman, And if no Gentleman, why then no arms. What is your Crest, a Coxcomb? No Cock of mine you crow too Like a craven. It is my fashion when I see a Crab. There is, there is. Had I a glass, I would. Well aimed of such a young one. Yet you are withered. I care not. I chafe you if I tarry. Let me go. Go fool, and whom thou keepest command. Where did you study all this goodly speech? A witty mother, witless else her son. Yes, keep you warm. I'll see thee hanged on Sunday first, No shame but mine: I must forsooth be forced To give my hand opposed against my heart Unto a madbrain rudes by full of spleen, Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure I told you I, he was a frantic fool, Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour, And to be noted for a merry man; Hee'll woo a thousand, point the day of marriage, Make friends, invite, and proclaim the banes, Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed: Now must the world point at poor Katherine, And say, lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife If it would please him come and marry her. Would Katherine had never seen though. Let me entreat you. Nay then, Do what thou canst, I will not go to day, No nor to morrow, not till I please my self, The door is open sir, there lies your way, You may be jogging while your boots are green: For me, I'll not be gone till I please my self, It's Like you'll prove a jolly surly groom, That take it on you at the first so roundly. I will be angry, what hast thou to do? Father, be quiet, he shall stay my leisure. Gentlemen, forward to the Bridal dinner, I see a woman may be maid a fool If she had not a spirit to resist, Patience I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling. I pray you husband be not so disquiet, The meat was well, if you were so contented. It's passing good, I prithee let me have it. I Like it well, good Grumio fetch it me. A dish that I do love to feed upon. Why then the Beef, and let the Mustard rest. Then both or one, or any thing thou wilt. Go get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, That feedest 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. Faith as cold as can be. I pray you let it stand. I thank you sir. I'll have no bigger, this does fit the time, And Gentlewomen wear such caps as these. Why sir I trust I may have leave to speak, And speak I will. I am no child, no babe, Your betters have endured me say my mind And if you cannot, best you stop your ears, My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, Or else my heart concealing it will break, And rather then it shall, I will be free, Even to the uttermost as I please in words. Love me, or love me not, I Like the cap, And it I will have, or I will have none. I never saw a better fashioned gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable: Belike you mean to make a puppet of me. I dare assure you sir, it's almost two, And it'll be supper time ere you come there. The Moon, the Sun: it is not Moonlight now. I know it is the Sun that shine, so bright. Forward I pray, since we have come so far, And be it moon, or Sun, or what you please: And if you please to call it a rush Candle: Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me. I know it is the Moon. Then God be blessed, it is the blessed sun, But sun it is not, when you say it is not. And the Moon changes even as your mind: What you will have it named, even that it is, And so it shall be so for Katherine. Young budding Virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet, Whither away, or whither is thy abode? Happy the parents of so fair a child; Happier the man whom favourable stars Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow. Pardon old father my mistaking eyes, That have been so bedazled with the sun, That every thing I look on seems green: Now I perceive thou are a reverent Father: Pardon I pray thee for my mad mistaking. Husband let's follow, to see the end of this ado. What in the amid of the street? No sir, God forbid, but ashamed to kiss. Nay, I will give thee a kiss, now pray Love stay. Mistress how mean you that? He that is giddy thinks the world turns round, I pray you tell me what you meant by that. A very mean meaning, They fit conferring by the Parler fire. Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkind brow, And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Governor. It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the Meads, Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman moved, is Like a fountain troubled, Maddy, ill seeming thick, bereft of beauty, And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy Lord thy life, thy Keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign: one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: Commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land: To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, Whi'st thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fare looks, and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the Prince, Even such a woman owes to her husband: And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, Sour, And not obedient to his honest will: What is she but a foul contending Rebel, And graceless Traitor to her loving Lord? I am a shamed that women are so simple, To offer war, where they should kneel for peace: Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil, and trouble in the world, But that our soft conditions, and our hearts. Should well agree with our external parts? Come, come, you froward and unable worms My mind hath been as big as one of yours, My heart as great, my reason happily more, To bandy word for word, and frown for frown; But now I see our Lances are but straws: Our strength as weak, our weakness passed compare, That seeming to be most, which we indeed least are. Then vale your stomachs, for it is no boot, And place your hands below your husbands foot: In token of which duty, if he please, My hand is ready may it do him ease. A pretty peat, it is best put finger in the eye, and she knew why. If that be jest, then all the rest was so. Strikes her A joined stool. Call you me daughter? now I promise you You have showed a tender fatherly regard, To wish me wed to one half Lunatic, A mad cap ruffian and a swearing Jack, That thinks with oaths to face the matter out. Are you content to stay? Now if you love me stay, The more my wrong, the more his spite appears. What, did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come unto my father's door, Upon intreaty 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 starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep: With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed, And that which spites me more then all these wants, He does it under name of perfect love: As who should say if I should sleep or eat, 'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death. I prithee go, and get me some repast, I care not what, so it be wholesome food. And I am mean indeed, respecting you. What is your will sir, that you send for me?