Bap.
Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?

Pet.
How but well, Sir? how but well?
It were impossible I should speed amiss.

Bap.
Why how now daughter Katharine, in your dumps?

Kath.
Call you me daughter? now I promise you
You've shew'd a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatick,
A madcap ruffian, and a swearing jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

Pet.
Father, 'tis thus; your self and all the world
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her;
If she be curs'd, 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've 'greed so well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding day.

Kath.
I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

Gre.
Hark: Petruchio! she says she'll see thee hang'd first.

Tra.
Is this your speeding? nay then, good night our part!

Pet.
Be patient, Sirs, I chuse her for my self,
If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curs'd in company.
I tell you 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me; oh the kindest Kate!
She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vy'd so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
Oh you are novices; 'tis a world to see,
How tame (when men and women are alone)
A † ^notemeacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate, I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding day;
Father, provide the feast, and bid the guests,
I will be sure my Katharine shall be fine.

Bap.
I know not what to say, but give your hands.
God send you joy, Petruchio, 'tis a match.

Gre. Tra.
Amen say we, we will be witnesses.

Pet.
Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu,
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace,

We will have rings and things, and fine array,
And kiss me Kate, we will be married a Sunday. [Ex. Petruchio and Katharina.

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