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Baptista

Say, Signor Gremio, what can you assure her?

Gremio

First, as you know, my house within the city
Is richly furnishèd with plate and gold,
Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands, 
My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry.
In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns,
In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,    
Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,    
Valance of Venice gold in needlework,            
Pewter and brass, and all things that belong
To house or housekeeping. Then, at my farm
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,    
Six-score fat oxen standing in my stalls,    
And all things answerable to this portion.    
Myself am struck in years, I must confess;    
And if I die tomorrow, this is hers,
If, whilst I live, she will be only mine.

Petruchio

Father, 'tis thus. Yourself and all the world
That talked of her have talked 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.

Katherina

I'll see thee hanged on Sunday first.

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