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. Asses 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 Coxcombe? Pet. A comblesse Cocke, so Kate will be my Hen

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

Kate. It is my fashion 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 glasse, 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

Kate. I chafe you if I tarrie. Let me go

Pet. No, not a whit, I finde you passing gentle: 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I finde report a very liar: For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech: yet sweet as spring-time flowers. Thou canst not frowne, thou canst not looke a sconce, Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will, Nor hast thou pleasure to be crosse in talke: But thou with mildnesse entertain'st thy wooers, With gentle conference, soft, and affable. Why does the world report that Kate doth limpe? Oh sland'rous world: Kate like the hazle twig Is straight, and slender, and as browne in hue As hazle nuts, and sweeter then the kernels: Oh let me see thee walke: thou dost not halt

The Taming of the Shrew Page 15

William Shakespeare Plays

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