Speeches (Lines) for Petruchio
in "Taming of the Shrew"
Total: 158

1

I,2,552

Verona, for a while I take my leave,
To see my friends in Padua; but of all
My best beloved and approved friend,
Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.

2

I,2,559

Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

3

I,2,562

Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.

4

I,2,566

Will it not be?
Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock I'll ring it;
I'll try how you can sol-fa, and sing it.

5

I,2,571

Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!

6

I,2,575

Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
'Con tutto il cuore ben trovato' may I say.

7

I,2,587

A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.

8

I,2,593

Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

9

I,2,599

Such wind as scatters young men through the world
To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience grows. But in a few,
Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
And I have thrust myself into this maze,
Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.

10

I,2,614

Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse-
She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

11

I,2,641

Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.
Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
For I will board her though she chide as loud
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.

12

I,2,649

I know her father, though I know not her;
And he knew my deceased father well.
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
And therefore let me be thus bold with you
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.

13

I,2,709

Peace, sirrah!

14

I,2,736

I know she is an irksome brawling scold;
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

15

I,2,739

Born in Verona, old Antonio's son.
My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
And I do hope good days and long to see.

16

I,2,746

Will I live?

17

I,2,748

Why came I hither but to that intent?
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs.

18

I,2,777

Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.

19

I,2,803

Hortensio, to what end are all these words?

20

I,2,809

Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.

21

I,2,812

Sir, understand you this of me, in sooth:
The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for,
Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
And will not promise her to any man
Until the elder sister first be wed.
The younger then is free, and not before.

22

II,1,883

And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?

23

II,1,887

You wrong me, Signior Gremio; give me leave.
I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine,
[Presenting HORTENSIO]
Cunning in music and the mathematics,
To instruct her fully in those sciences,
Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong-
His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

24

II,1,906

I see you do not mean to part with her;
Or else you like not of my company.

25

II,1,910

Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.

26

II,1,916

O, pardon me, Signior Gremio! I would fain be doing.

27

II,1,957

Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have bettered rather than decreas'd.
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?

28

II,1,966

And for that dowry, I'll assure her of
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leases whatsoever.
Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.

29

II,1,973

Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
So I to her, and so she yields to me;
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.

30

II,1,983

Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
That shake not though they blow perpetually.

31

II,1,1004

Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
I love her ten times more than e'er I did.
O, how I long to have some chat with her!

32

II,1,1012

I pray you do. Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO
I'll attend her here,
And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.
Say she be mute, and will not speak a word;
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week;
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
[Enter KATHERINA]
Good morrow, Kate- for that's your name, I hear.

33

II,1,1031

You lie, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
But, Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation-
Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.

34

II,1,1044

Why, what's a moveable?

35

II,1,1046

Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.

36

II,1,1048

Women are made to bear, and so are you.

37

II,1,1050

Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
For, knowing thee to be but young and light-

38

II,1,1054

Should be! should- buzz!

39

II,1,1056

O, slow-wing'd turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?

40

II,1,1058

Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.

41

II,1,1060

My remedy is then to pluck it out.

42

II,1,1062

Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
In his tail.

43

II,1,1065

Whose tongue?

44

II,1,1067

What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

45

II,1,1070

I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.

46

II,1,1074

A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!

47

II,1,1076

A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.

48

II,1,1078

Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.

49

II,1,1080

Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.

50

II,1,1082

Then show it me.

51

II,1,1084

What, you mean my face?

52

II,1,1086

Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.

53

II,1,1088

'Tis with cares.

54

II,1,1090

Nay, hear you, Kate- in sooth, you scape not so.

55

II,1,1092

No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle.
'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
And now I find report a very liar;
For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
But slow in speech, yet sweet as springtime flowers.
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers;
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
O sland'rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
O, let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.

56

II,1,1108

Did ever Dian so become a grove
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!

57

II,1,1113

It is extempore, from my mother wit.

58

II,1,1115

Am I not wise?

59

II,1,1117

Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed.
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife your dowry greed on;
And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me;
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
[Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO]
Here comes your father. Never make denial;
I must and will have Katherine to my wife.

60

II,1,1133

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

61

II,1,1141

Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world
That talk'd of her have talk'd amiss of her.
If she be curst, 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 have 'greed so well together
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

62

II,1,1153

Be patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself;
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 curst in company.
I tell you 'tis incredible to believe.
How much she loves me- O, the kindest Kate!
She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see,
How tame, when men and women are alone,
A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate; I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine.

63

II,1,1172

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.

64

III,2,1444

Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home?

65

III,2,1446

And yet I come not well.

66

III,2,1450

Were it better, I should rush in thus.
But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?
How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown;
And wherefore gaze this goodly company
As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet or unusual prodigy?

67

III,2,1464

Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
Though in some part enforced to digress,
Which at more leisure I will so excuse
As you shall well be satisfied withal.
But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.

68

III,2,1473

Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.

69

III,2,1475

Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words;
To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
Could I repair what she will wear in me
As I can change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride
And seal the title with a lovely kiss!

70

III,2,1547

Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
I know you think to dine with me to-day,
And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer
But so it is- my haste doth call me hence,
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

71

III,2,1553

I must away to-day before night come.
Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go than stay.
And, honest company, I thank you all
That have beheld me give away myself
To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
For I must hence; and farewell to you all.

72

III,2,1562

It may not be.

73

III,2,1564

It cannot be.

74

III,2,1566

I am content.

75

III,2,1568

I am content you shall entreat me stay;
But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.

76

III,2,1571

Grumio, my horse.

77

III,2,1581

O Kate, content thee; prithee be not angry.

78

III,2,1588

They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
Carouse full measure to her maidenhead;
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.
But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
I will be master of what is mine own-
She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,
My household stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing,
And here she stands; touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a million.

79

IV,1,1719

Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

80

IV,1,1723

Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

81

IV,1,1728

YOU peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?

82

IV,1,1738

Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
[Exeunt some of the SERVINGMEN]
[Sings] Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those-
Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud!
[Re-enter SERVANTS with supper]
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
[Sings] It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way-
Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry;
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
[Strikes him]
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here, what, ho!
[Enter one with water]
Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
[Exit SERVINGMAN]
One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? [Strikes him]

83

IV,1,1761

A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?
What's this? Mutton?

84

IV,1,1766

Who brought it?

85

IV,1,1768

'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook?
How durst you villains bring it from the dresser
And serve it thus to me that love it not?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
[Throws the meat, etc., at them]
You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

86

IV,1,1779

I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended.
And for this night we'll fast for company.
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt

87

IV,1,1799

Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty.
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg'd,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.
She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
I'll find about the making of the bed;
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, another way the sheets;
Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
That all is done in reverend care of her-
And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night;
And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness,
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show. Exit

88

IV,3,1994

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

89

IV,3,1997

Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am,
To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee.
I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
What, not a word? Nay, then thou lov'st it not,
And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
Here, take away this dish.

90

IV,3,2005

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

91

IV,3,2010

[Aside] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.-
Much 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 farthingales and things,
With scarfs and fans and double change of brav'ry.
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
What, hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
[Enter TAILOR]
Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
Lay forth the gown.
[Enter HABERDASHER]
What news with you, sir?

92

IV,3,2027

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.

93

IV,3,2034

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

94

IV,3,2045

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

95

IV,3,2050

Thy gown? Why, ay. Come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
What's this? A sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down, carv'd like an appletart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
Why, what a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

96

IV,3,2060

Marry, and did; but if you be rememb'red,
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.

97

IV,3,2068

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

98

IV,3,2070

O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou
thimble,
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou-
Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I shall so bemete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.

99

IV,3,2093

Read it.

100

IV,3,2099

Proceed.

101

IV,3,2105

Ay, there's the villainy.

102

IV,3,2114

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

103

IV,3,2116

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

104

IV,3,2119

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

105

IV,3,2123

[Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.-
Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.

106

IV,3,2128

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 in the meanest habit.
What, is the jay more precious than the lark
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.
If thou account'st 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.
Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.

107

IV,3,2150

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 ere I do,
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.

108

IV,5,2267

Come on, a God's name; once more toward our father's.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!

109

IV,5,2270

I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

110

IV,5,2272

Now by my mother's son, and that's myself,
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house.
Go on and fetch our horses back again.
Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!

111

IV,5,2282

I say it is the moon.

112

IV,5,2284

Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.

113

IV,5,2291

Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But, soft! Company is coming here.
[Enter VINCENTIO]
[To VINCENTIO] Good-morrow, gentle mistress; where away?-
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.

114

IV,5,2309

Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad!
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is.

115

IV,5,2317

Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known
Which way thou travellest- if along with us,
We shall be joyful of thy company.

116

IV,5,2325

What is his name?

117

IV,5,2327

Happily met; the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee my loving father:
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
Nor be not grieved- she is of good esteem,
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Beside, so qualified as may beseem
The spouse of any noble gentleman.
Let me embrace with old Vincentio;
And wander we to see thy honest son,
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

118

IV,5,2343

Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.

119

V,1,2358

Sir, here's the door; this is Lucentio's house;
My father's bears more toward the market-place;
Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.

120

V,1,2373

Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. Do
you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell
Signior Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa, and is here
at the door to speak with him.

121

V,1,2381

[To VINCENTIO] Why, how now, gentleman!
Why, this is flat knavery to take upon you another man's name.

122

V,1,2402

Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of this
controversy. [They stand aside]
Re-enter PEDANT below; BAPTISTA, TRANIO, and SERVANTS

123

V,1,2480

First kiss me, Kate, and we will.

124

V,1,2482

What, art thou asham'd of me?

125

V,1,2484

Why, then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.

126

V,1,2486

Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
Better once than never, for never too late. Exeunt

127

V,2,2500

Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!

128

V,2,2502

Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

129

V,2,2504

Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.

130

V,2,2506

YOU are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.

131

V,2,2509

Roundly replied.

132

V,2,2512

Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?

133

V,2,2514

Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.

134

V,2,2523

To her, Kate!

135

V,2,2525

A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.

136

V,2,2527

Spoke like an officer- ha' to thee, lad.

137

V,2,2535

Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
Have at you for a bitter jest or two.

138

V,2,2541

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.

139

V,2,2546

A good swift simile, but something currish.

140

V,2,2552

'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.

141

V,2,2557

Well, I say no; and therefore, for assurance,
Let's each one send unto his wife,
And he whose wife is most obedient,
To come at first when he doth send for her,
Shall win the wager which we will propose.

142

V,2,2564

Twenty crowns?
I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
But twenty times so much upon my wife.

143

V,2,2569

A match! 'tis done.

144

V,2,2580

How! She's busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?

145

V,2,2584

I hope better.

146

V,2,2587

O, ho! entreat her!
Nay, then she must needs come.

147

V,2,2595

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. Exit GRUMIO

148

V,2,2600

What?

149

V,2,2602

The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.

150

V,2,2606

Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?

151

V,2,2608

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.

152

V,2,2614

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.

153

V,2,2622

Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
[Re-enter KATHERINA with BIANCA and WIDOW]
See where she comes, and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.

154

V,2,2638

Katherine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.

155

V,2,2641

Come on, I say; and first begin with her.

156

V,2,2643

I say she shall. And first begin with her.

157

V,2,2688

Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

158

V,2,2692

Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
We three are married, but you two are sped.
[To LUCENTIO] 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
And being a winner, God give you good night!