Gru.
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.

Kath.
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty have a present alms;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat ^note,
Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed:

And that which spites me more than all these wants ^note,
He does it under name of perfect love;
As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
I prithee go and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

Gru.
What say you to a neat's foot?

Kath.
'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.

Gru.
I fear it is too choleric ^note a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?

Kath.
I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.

Gru.
I cannot tell; I fear 'tis ^note choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?

Kath.
A dish that I do love to feed upon.

Gru.
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.

Kath.
Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.

Gru.
Nay then ^note, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

Kath.
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.

Gru.
Why then, the mustard without ^note the beef.

Kath.
Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, [Beats him.
That feed'st me with the very name of meat:
Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you
That triumph thus upon my misery!
Go, get thee gone, I say. ^noteEnter Petruchio and Hortensio with meat.

Pet.
How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?

Hor.
Mistress, what cheer?

Kath.
Faith ^note, as cold as can be.

Pet.
Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
Here, love; thou see'st how diligent I am

^note
To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee:
I am ^note sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not;
And all my pains is ^note sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this ^note dish.

Kath.
I pray you ^note, let it stand.

Pet.
The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.

Kath.
I thank you, sir.

Hor.
Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame. ^note
Come, Mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

Pet.
Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me. ^note [Aside. ^note
Much ^note good do it unto thy gentle heart!
Kate, eat apace: and now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs and cuffs and fardingales ^note and things ^note;
With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery.
What ^note, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure,
To ^note deck thy body with his ruffling ^note treasure. ^note Enter Tailor.
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
Lay forth the gown. Enter ^note Haberdasher.
What news with you, sir? ^note

Hab. ^note
Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

Pet.
Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish: fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap:
Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.

Kath.
I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.

Pet.
When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
And not till then.

Hor.
That will not be in haste. [Aside. ^note

Kath.
Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endured me say my mind,
And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart concealing it will break;
And rather than it shall, I will be free
Even to the uttermost ^note, as I please, in words.

Pet.
Why, thou say'st true; it is a ^note paltry cap,
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie:
I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.

Kath.
Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
And it I will have ^note, or I will have none. [Exit Haberdasher ^note.

Pet.
Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God ^note! what masquing stuff is here?
What's this? ^note a sleeve? 'tis like a ^note demi-cannon:
What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
Why, what, i' ^note devil's name, tailor ^note, call'st thou this?

Hor.
I see she's like to have ^note neither cap nor gown. [Aside. ^note

Tai.
You bid me make it orderly and well,

According to the fashion and ^note the time.

Pet.
Marry, and did ^note; but if you be remember'd,
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go, hop me over every kennel home,
For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.

Kath.
I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

Pet.
Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.

Tai.

She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.

Pet.

O monstrous ^note arrogance! Thou liest ^note, thou thread ^note, thou thimble, ^note

Tai.
Your worship is deceived; the gown is made
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.

Gru.
I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.

Tai.
But how did you desire it should be made?

Gru.

Marry, sir, with needle and thread.

Tai.

But did you not request to have it cut?

Gru.

Thou hast faced many things.

Tai.

I have.

Gru.

Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.

Tai.

Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.

Pet.

Read it.

Gru.

The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.

Tai. [reads ^note]

‘Imprimis ^note, a loose-bodied gown:’

Gru.

Master, if ever I said loose-bodied ^note gown, sew me ^note in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said a gown.

Pet.

Proceed.

Tai. [reads ^note]

‘With a small compassed cape:’

Gru.

I confess the cape.

Tai. [reads ^note]

‘With a trunk sleeve:’

Gru.

I confess two sleeves.

Tai. [reads ^note]

‘The sleeves curiously cut.’

Pet.

Ay, there's the villany.

Gru.

Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out, and sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.

Tai.

This is true that I say: an ^note I had thee in place where, thou shouldst ^note know it.

Gru.

I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me ^note.

Hor.

God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.

Pet. ^note

Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.

Gru.

You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.

Pet.

Go, take it up unto thy master's use.

Gru.

Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress' ^note gown for thy master's use!

Pet.
Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?

Gru.
O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
Take up my mistress' ^note gown to ^note his master's use!
O, fie, fie, fie!

Pet.
Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid. [Aside. ^note

Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.

Hor.
Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow:
Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
Away! I say; commend me to thy master. [Exit Tailor. ^note

Pet.
Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's
Even in these honest mean habiliments:
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth ^note in the meanest habit.
What is ^note the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful? ^note
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, no, good ^note Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.
If thou account'st ^note it shame, lay it on me;
And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot ^note.
Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.

Kath.
I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two;
And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.

Pet.
It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone:
I will not go to-day; and ^note ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.

Hor.
Why, so ^note this gallant will command the sun. [Exeunt.

^note

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