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thy-shakespeare

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PETRUCHIO: Ay, there's the villany.
GRUMIO: Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill. I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
Tailor: This is true that I say: an I had thee in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIO: I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIO: God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
PETRUCHIO: Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIO: You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.
PETRUCHIO: Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
GRUMIO: Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress' gown for thy master's use!
PETRUCHIO: Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
GRUMIO: O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for: Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use! O, fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCHIO:
HORTENSIO: Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow: Take no unkindness of his hasty words: Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
PETRUCHIO: 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 lar...
KATHARINA: I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two; And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCHIO: 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.
HORTENSIO:
TRANIO: Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?
Pedant: Ay, what else? and but I be deceived Signior Baptista may remember me, Near twenty years ago, in Genoa, Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
TRANIO: 'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case, With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.
Pedant: I warrant you. But, sir, here comes your boy; 'Twere good he were school'd.
TRANIO: Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello, Now do your duty throughly, I advise you: Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
BIONDELLO: Tut, fear not me.
TRANIO: But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
BIONDELLO: I told him that your father was at Venice, And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.
TRANIO: Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink. Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir. Signior Baptista, you are happily met. Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of: I pray you stand good father to me now, Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
Pedant: Soft son! Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio Made me acquainted with a weighty cause Of love between your daughter and himself: And, for the good report I hear of you And for the love he beareth to your daughter And she to him, to stay him not too long, I am conten...
BAPTISTA: Sir, pardon me in what I have to say: Your plainness and your shortness please me well. Right true it is, your son Lucentio here Doth love my daughter and she loveth him, Or both dissemble deeply their affections: And therefore, if you say no more than this, That like a father you will deal with him And pass ...
TRANIO: I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best We be affied and such assurance ta'en As shall with either part's agreement stand?
BAPTISTA: Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know, Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants: Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still; And happily we might be interrupted.
TRANIO: Then at my lodging, an it like you: There doth my father lie; and there, this night, We'll pass the business privately and well. Send for your daughter by your servant here: My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently. The worst is this, that, at so slender warning, You are like to have a thin and slender pittan...
BAPTISTA: It likes me well. Biondello, hie you home, And bid Bianca make her ready straight; And, if you will, tell what hath happened, Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua, And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.
BIONDELLO: I pray the gods she may with all my heart!
TRANIO: Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone. Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way? Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer: Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.
BAPTISTA: I follow you.
BIONDELLO: Cambio!
LUCENTIO: What sayest thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO: You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
LUCENTIO: Biondello, what of that?
BIONDELLO: Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
LUCENTIO: I pray thee, moralize them.
BIONDELLO: Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving father of a deceitful son.
LUCENTIO: And what of him?
BIONDELLO: His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
LUCENTIO: And then?
BIONDELLO: The old priest of Saint Luke's church is at your command at all hours.
LUCENTIO: And what of all this?
BIONDELLO: I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her, 'cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum:' to the church; take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a d...
LUCENTIO: Hearest thou, Biondello?
BIONDELLO: I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so may you, sir: and so, adieu, sir. My master hath appointed me to go to Saint Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against you come with your appendix.
LUCENTIO: I may, and will, if she be so contented: She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt? Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her: It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.
PETRUCHIO: Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's. Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
KATHARINA: The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now.
PETRUCHIO: I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
KATHARINA: I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
PETRUCHIO: 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!
HORTENSIO: Say as he says, or we shall never go.
KATHARINA: Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, And be it moon, or sun, or what you please: An if you please to call it a rush-candle, Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
PETRUCHIO: I say it is the moon.
KATHARINA: I know it is the moon.
PETRUCHIO: Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.
KATHARINA: Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun: But sun it is not, when you say it is not; And the moon changes even as your mind. What you will have it named, even that it is; And so it shall be so for Katharina.
HORTENSIO: Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.
PETRUCHIO: Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run, And not unluckily against the bias. But, soft! company is coming here. 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 spa...
HORTENSIO: A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
KATHARINA: Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet, Whither away, or where is thy abode? Happy the parents of so fair a child; Happier the man, whom favourable stars Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
PETRUCHIO: Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad: This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd, And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
KATHARINA: Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes, That have been so bedazzled with the sun That everything I look on seemeth green: Now I perceive thou art a reverend father; Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
PETRUCHIO: Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known Which way thou travellest: if along with us, We shall be joyful of thy company.
VINCENTIO: Fair sir, and you my merry mistress, That with your strange encounter much amazed me, My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa; And bound I am to Padua; there to visit A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
PETRUCHIO: What is his name?
VINCENTIO: Lucentio, gentle sir.
PETRUCHIO: Happily we 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 grieved: she is of good esteem, Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth; Beside, so qualified as may...
VINCENTIO: But is it true? or else is it your pleasure, Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest Upon the company you overtake?
HORTENSIO: I do assure thee, father, so it is.
PETRUCHIO: Come, go along, and see the truth hereof; For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
HORTENSIO: Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart. Have to my widow! and if she be froward, Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
BIONDELLO: Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready.
LUCENTIO: I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee at home; therefore leave us.
BIONDELLO: Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and then come back to my master's as soon as I can.
GREMIO: I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
PETRUCHIO: 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.
VINCENTIO: You shall not choose but drink before you go: I think I shall command your welcome here, And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.
GREMIO: They're busy within; you were best knock louder.
Pedant: What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
VINCENTIO: Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?
Pedant: He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
VINCENTIO: What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to make merry withal?
Pedant: Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall need none, so long as I live.
PETRUCHIO: 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.
Pedant: Thou liest: his father is come from Padua and here looking out at the window.
VINCENTIO: Art thou his father?
Pedant: Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.
PETRUCHIO:
Pedant: Lay hands on the villain: I believe a' means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
BIONDELLO: I have seen them in the church together: God send 'em good shipping! But who is here? mine old master Vincentio! now we are undone and brought to nothing.
VINCENTIO:
BIONDELLO: Hope I may choose, sir.
VINCENTIO: Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
BIONDELLO: Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.