Shakespeare's First Folio
Chapter 187 : Bap. Why then thou canst not break her to the Lute?Hor. Why no, for she hath broke the

Bap. Why then thou canst not break her to the Lute?

Hor. Why no, for she hath broke the Lute to me: I did but tell her she mistooke her frets, And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering, When (with a most impatient diuellish spirit) Frets call you these? (quoth she) Ile fume with them: And with that word she stroke me on the head, And through the instrument my pate made way, And there I stood amazed for a while, As on a Pillorie, looking through the Lute, While she did call me Rascall, Fidler, And tw.a.n.gling Iacke, with twentie such vilde tearmes, As had she studied to misvse me so

Pet. Now by the world, it is a l.u.s.tie Wench, I loue her ten times more then ere I did, Oh how I long to haue some chat with her

Bap. Wel go with me, and be not so discomfited.

Proceed in practise with my yonger daughter, She's apt to learne, and thankefull for good turnes: Signior Petruchio, will you go with vs, Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you.

Exit. Manet Petruchio.

Pet. I pray you do. Ile attend her heere, And woo her with some spirit when she comes, Say that she raile, why then Ile tell her plaine, She sings as sweetly as a Nightinghale: Say that she frowne, Ile say she lookes as cleere As morning Roses newly washt with dew: Say she be mute, and will not speake a word, Then Ile commend her volubility, And say she vttereth piercing eloquence: If she do bid me packe, Ile giue her thankes, As though she bid me stay by her a weeke: If she denie to wed, Ile craue the day When I shall aske the banes, and when be married.

But heere she comes, and now Petruchio speake.

Enter Katerina

Good morrow Kate, for thats your name I heare

Kate. Well haue you heard, but something hard of hearing: They call me Katerine, that do talke of me

Pet. You lye infaith, for you are call'd plaine Kate, And bony Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst: But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendome, Kate of Kate-hall, my super-daintie Kate, For dainties are all Kates, and therefore Kate Take this of me, Kate of my consolation, Hearing thy mildnesse prais'd in euery Towne, Thy vertues spoke of, and thy beautie sounded, Yet not so deepely as to thee belongs, My selfe am moou'd to woo thee for my wife

Kate. Mou'd, in good time, let him that mou'd you hether Remoue you hence: I knew you at the first You were a mouable

Pet. Why, what's a mouable?

Kat. A ioyn'd stoole

Pet. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me

Kate. a.s.ses are made to beare, and so are you

Pet. Women are made to beare, and so are you

Kate. No such Iade as you, if me you meane

Pet. Alas good Kate, I will not burthen thee, For knowing thee to be but yong and light

Kate. Too light for such a swaine as you to catch, And yet as heauie as my waight should be

Pet. Shold be, should: buzze

Kate. Well tane, and like a buzzard

Pet. Oh slow-wing'd Turtle, shal a buzard take thee?

Kat. I for a Turtle, as he takes a buzard

Pet. Come, come you Waspe, y'faith you are too angrie

Kate. If I be waspish, best beware my sting

Pet. My remedy is then to plucke it out

Kate. I, if the foole could finde it where it lies

Pet. Who knowes not where a Waspe does weare his sting? In his taile

Kate. In his tongue?

Pet. Whose tongue

Kate. Yours if you talke of tales, and so farewell

Pet. What with my tongue in your taile.

Nay, come againe, good Kate, I am a Gentleman, Kate. That Ile trie.

She strikes him

Pet. I sweare Ile cuffe you, if you strike againe

Kate. So may you loose your armes, If you strike me, you are no Gentleman, And if no Gentleman, why then no armes

Pet. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy bookes

Kate. What is your Crest, a c.o.xcombe?

Pet. A comblesse c.o.c.ke, so Kate will be my Hen

Kate. No c.o.c.ke of mine, you crow too like a crauen Pet. Nay come Kate, come: you must not looke so sowre

Kate. It is my fas.h.i.+on when I see a Crab

Pet. Why heere's no crab, and therefore looke not sowre

Kate. There is, there is

Pet. Then shew it me

Kate. Had I a gla.s.se, I would

Pet. What, you meane my face

Kate. Well aym'd of such a yong one

Pet. Now by S[aint]. George I am too yong for you

Kate. Yet you are wither'd

Pet. 'Tis with cares

Kate. I care not

Pet. Nay heare you Kate. Insooth you scape not so