2

Petruchio

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.           

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.

Gremio

Was ever match clapped up so suddenly?    

Baptista

Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.    

Tranio

'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Baptista

Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
And venture madly on a desperate mart.    

Tranio

'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

Baptista

The gain I seek is quiet in the match.    

Gremio

No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.

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.

Baptista

What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

Hortensio

I think she'll sooner prove a soldier.
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.    

Baptista

Why then, thou canst not break her to the lute?    

Hortensio

Why, no, for she hath broke the lute to me.

Baptista

Why then, thou canst not break her to the lute?    

Hortensio

Why, no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bowed her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
'Frets, call you these?' quoth she, 'I'll fume with them.'
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;    
And there I stood amazèd for a while,
As on a pillory looking through the lute,    
While she did call me ‘rascal fiddler’
And ‘twangling Jack’ with twenty such vile terms,    
As had she studied to misuse me so.    

Baptista

Why then, thou canst not break her to the lute?    

Hortensio

Why, no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bowed her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
'Frets, call you these?' quoth she, 'I'll fume with them.'
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;    
And there I stood amazèd for a while,
As on a pillory looking through the lute,    
While she did call me ‘rascal fiddler’
And ‘twangling Jack’ with twenty such vile terms,    
As had she studied to misuse me so.    

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