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Wid. Thus I conceive by him.
Pet. Conceives by me!-How likes Hortensio that?
Hor. My widow says, thus she conceives her tale. Pet. Very well mended: Kiss him for that, good widow.
Kath. He that is giddy, thinks the world turns round:
I pray you, tell me what you meant by that. Wid. Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe:
Kath. A very mean meaning.
Right, I mean you. Kath. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you. Pet. To her, Kate!
Hor. To her, widow!
Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
Hor. That's my office.
Pet. Spoke like an officer :-Ha' to thee, lad. [Drinks to Hortensio. Bap. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? Gre. Believe me, sir, they butt together well. Bian. Head, and butt? an hasty-witted body Would say, your head and butt were head and horn. Vin. Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you? Bian. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore, I'll sleep again.
Pet. Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
Have at you for a bitter jest or two.
Bian. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush, And then pursue me as you draw your bow:You are welcome all.
[Exeunt Bianca, Katharina, and Widow. Pet. She hath prevented me.-Here, signior Tranio,
This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
Therefore, a health to all that shot and miss'd. Tra. O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
Which runs himself, and catches for his master. Pet. A good swift* simile, but something currish. Tra. 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself; 'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay.
Bap. O ho, Petruchio, Tranio hits you now. Luc. 1 thank thee for that gird†, good Tranio. Hor. Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here? Pet. 'A has a little gall'd me, I confess; And as the jest did glance away from me,
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright. Bap. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio, I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
Pet. Well, I say-no: and therefore, for assu
Let's each one send unto his wife;
Pet. Twenty crowns!
I'll venture so much on my hawk, or hound,
Hor. Who shall begin?
That will I. Go,
Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
Bion. I go.
How now! what news?
A match; 'tis done.
Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes.
Sir, my mistress sends you word + Sarcasm.
That she is busy, and she cannot come.
Pet. How! she is busy, and she cannot come ! Is that an answer?
Ay, and a kind one too : Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse. Pet. I hope, better.
Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go, and entreat my wife To come to me forthwith. [Exit Biondello. entreat her!
I am afraid, sir, Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
Now, where's my wife?
Bion. She says, you have some goodly jest in hand;
She will not come; she bids you come to her.
Pet. Worse and worse; she will not come ! O vile, Intolerable, not to be endur'd! Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress; Say, I command her come to me. Hor. I know her answer.
She will not come.
Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katha
Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send for me? Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire. Pet. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come, Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands: Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
[Exit Katharina. Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Hor. And so it is: I wonder what it bodes. Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
An awful rule, and right supremacy;
And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy.
•Re-enter Katharina, with Bianca, and Widow. See, where she comes; and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.—
[Katharina pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
Bian. Fye! what a foolish duty call you this? Luc. I would your duty were as foolish too : The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time. Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty. Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.
Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her. Wid. She shall not.
Pet. I say, she shall;-and first begin with her. Kath. Fye, fye! unknit that threat'ning unkind brow;
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past com
That seeming to be most, which we least are.
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
* Gentle temper.
+ Abate your spirit.