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Pet.

      O slow-wing’d turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?

       Kath.

      Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

       Pet.

      Come, come, you wasp, i’ faith you are too angry.

       Kath.

      If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

       Pet.

      My remedy is then to pluck it out.

       Kath.

      Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

       Pet.

      Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?

      In his tail.

       Kath.

      In his tongue.

       Pet.

      Whose tongue?

       Kath.

      Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.

       Pet.

      What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,

      Good Kate; I am a gentleman—

       Kath.

      That I’ll try.

       She strikes him.

       Pet.

      I swear I’ll cuff you, if you strike again.

       Kath.

      So may you lose your arms.

      If you strike me, you are no gentleman,

      And if no gentleman, why then no arms.

       Pet.

      A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!

       Kath.

      What is your crest? a coxcomb?

       Pet.

      A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.

       Kath.

      No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.

       Pet.

      Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.

       Kath.

      It is my fashion when I see a crab.

       Pet.

      Why, here’s no crab, and therefore look not sour.

       Kath.

      There is, there is.

       Pet.

      Then show it me.

       Kath.

      Had I a glass, I would.

       Pet.

      What, you mean my face?

       Kath.

      Well aim’d of such a young one.

       Pet.

      Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.

       Kath.

      Yet you are wither’d.

       Pet.

      ’Tis with cares.

       Kath.

      I care not.

       Pet.

      Nay, hear you, Kate. In sooth you scape not so.

       Kath.

      I chafe you if I tarry. Let me go.

       Pet.

      No, not a whit, I find you passing gentle:

      ’Twas told me you were rough and coy and sullen,

      And now I find report a very liar;

      For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,

      But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers.

      Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askaunce,

      Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,

      Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;

      But thou with mildness entertain’st thy wooers,

      With gentle conference, soft, and affable.

      Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?

      O sland’rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig

      Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue

      As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.

      O, let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.

       Kath.

      Go, fool, and whom thou keep’st command.

       Pet.

      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!

       Kath.

      Where did you study all this goodly speech?

       Pet.

      It is extempore, from my mother-wit.

       Kath.

      A witty mother! witless else her son.

       Pet.

      Am I not wise?

       Kath.

      Yes, keep you warm.

       Pet.

      Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed;

      And therefore setting all this chat aside,

      Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented

      That you shall be my wife; your dowry ’greed on;

      And will you, nill you, I will marry you.

      Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn,

      For by this light whereby I see thy beauty,

      Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,

      Thou must be married to no man but me;

      For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,

      And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate

      Conformable as other household Kates.

       Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio [as Lucentio].

      Here comes your father. Never make denial;

      I must and will have Katherine to my wife.

      

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