KATHERINA.
[To Baptista] I pray you, sir, is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
HORTENSIO.
Mates, maid! How mean you that? No mates for you,
Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.
KATHERINA.
I’ faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
I wis it is not half way to her heart;
But if it were, doubt not her care should be
To comb your noddle with a three-legg’d stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.
HORTENSIO.
From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
GREMIO.
And me, too, good Lord!
TRANIO.
Husht, master! Here’s some good pastime toward:
That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
LUCENTIO.
But in the other’s silence do I see
Maid’s mild behaviour and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio!
TRANIO.
Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.
BAPTISTA.
Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said,—Bianca, get you in:
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne’er the less, my girl.
KATHERINA.
A pretty peat! it is best put finger in the eye, and she knew why.