PETRUCHIO.
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.
BAPTISTA.
Y’are welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
PETRUCHIO.
I see you do not mean to part with her;
Or else you like not of my company.
BAPTISTA.
Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
PETRUCHIO.
Petruchio is my name, Antonio’s son;
A man well known throughout all Italy.
BAPTISTA.
I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.
GREMIO.
Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too.
Backare! you are marvellous forward.
PETRUCHIO.
O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.