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. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: “Frets, call you these”
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. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: “Iron may hold with her”
Gremio To express the like kindness myself, that have been more kindly beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young scholar that hath been long studying at Rheims, as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages as the other in music and mathematics. His name is Cambio; pray accept his service. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Rheims
Petruchio Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Baptista I know him well. You are welcome for his sake. Gremio Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, let us that are poor petitioners speak too. Baccare, you are marvellous forward. Petruchio O, pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain be doing. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "Baccare, you are marvelous forward"
Katherina 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 lead apes in hell. Talk not to me. I will go sit and weep Till I can find occasion of revenge. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "lead apes in hell"
Petruchio Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son, A man well known throughout all Italy. Baptista I know him well. You are welcome for his sake. Gremio Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, let us that are poor petitioners speak too. Baccare, you are marvellous forward. Petruchio O, pardon me, Signor Gremio, I would fain be doing. Gremio I doubt it not, sir, but you will curse your wooing. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "I would fain be doing"
Petruchio Why, that is nothing. For I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded, And where two raging fires meet together They do consume the thing that feeds their fury. Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. So I to her, and so she yields to me, For I am rough and woo not like a babe. Baptista Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed! But be thou armed for some unhappy words. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "speed"
