Enter CATHARINA and GRUMIO. Gru. No, no, forfooth, I dare not for my life. Cath. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears: What, did he marry me to famish me? If not, elsewhere they meet with charity: Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep; As who would fay, if I fhould fleep or eat Cath. Then both or one, or any thing thou wilt. Gru. Why then the mustard without the beef. Cath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding flave, [Beats him. That feedeft me with the very name of meat: Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, That triumph thus upon my mifery ! Go, get thee gone, I fay. Enter PETRUCHIO and HORTENSIO, with meat. Pet. How fares my Kate? what, fweeting, all Cath. 'Faith, as cold as can be. Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits; look cheerfully upon. Cath. I pray you, let it ftand. Pet. The pooreft fervice is repaid with thanks; Hor. Signior Petruchio, fy, you are to blame : [Afide. Much good do it unto thy gentle heart; Enter Tailor. Come, tailor, let us fee thefe ornaments. Enter Haberdasher. Lay forth the gown. What news with you, Sir? A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap. Cath. I'll have no bigger, this doth fit the time; And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as these. Pet. When you are gentle you shall have one too, And not 'till then. Hor. That will not be in hafte. Cath. 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 fay my mind; And, if you cannot, beft you ftop your ears. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, Or elfe my heart, concealing it, will break: And rather than it fhall, I will be free Even to the utmost as I please in words. Pet. Why, thou fayeft true, it is a paltry cap, A custard coffin, a bauble, a filken pie; I love thee well, in that thou likeft it not. Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap; And I will have it, or I will have none. [fee't. Pet. Thy gown? why, ay; come, tailor, let us O mercy, Heaven, what mafking ftuff is here? What? this a fleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon; What, up and down carved like an apple-tart? Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flish, and flash, Like to a cenfer in a barber's fhop: Why, what a devil's name, tailor, calleft thou this? Hor. I fee fhe's like to've neither cap nor gown. [Afide. Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion of the time. be remembered, Pet. Marry, and did: but if you Cath. I never faw a better.fashioned gown, More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable: Belike you mean to make a puppet of me. [thee. Pet. Why, true, he means to make a puppet of Tai. She fays, your Worship means to make a puppet of her. Pet. Oh moft monftrous arrogance! Thou lieft, thou thread, thou thimble, Thou yard, three quarters, half yard, quarter, nail, As thou shalt think on pratting whil'it thou livest: Tai. Your Worship is deceived, the gown is made Juft as my mafter had direction. Grumio gave order how it thould be done. Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the ftuff. Tai. I have. Gru. Face not me: thou haft braved many men, brave not me; I will neither be faced, nor braved. I fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown, but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Frgo, thou lycft. Tai. Why, here is the note of the fashion to teftify, Pet. Read it.. 21 Gru. The note lyes in's throat, if he fay I faid fo Tai. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown. Gru, Mafter, if ever I faid loofe-bodied gown, fow me up in the fkirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I faid a gown. Pet. Proceed. Tai. With a fmall compast cape. Gru. I confefs the cape.. Gru. Error i' th' bill, Sir, error i' th' bill: I commanded the fleeves fhould be cut out, and fowed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble. Tai. This is true that I fay; an I had thee in place where, thou fhou'dst know it. Gru. I am for thee ftraight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and fpare not me. Hor. God-amercy, Grumio, then he fhall have no odds. Pet. Well, Sir, in brief the gown is not for me. Gru. You are i' th' right, Sir, 'tis for my miftrefs. Pet. Go take it up unto thy master's use. Gru. Villain, not for thy life: take up my miftrefs's gown for thy mafter's ufe! Pet. Why, Sir, what's your conceit in that? Gru. Ch, Sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for; Take up my miftrefs's gown unto his master's use! Oh, fy, fy, fy. Pet. Hortenfio, fay thou wilt fee the tailor paid. [Afide. |