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Pedant:
Of Mantua.
TRANIO:
Of Mantua, sir? marry, God forbid!
And come to Padua, careless of your life?
Pedant:
My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.
TRANIO:
'Tis death for any one in Mantua
To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the duke,
For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,
Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
'Tis, marvel, but that you are but newly come,
You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
Pedant:
Alas! sir, it is worse for me than so;
For I have bills for money by exchange
From Florence and must here deliver them.
TRANIO:
Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
This will I do, and this I will advise you:
First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
Pedant:
Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
TRANIO:
Among them know you one Vincentio?
Pedant:
I know him not, but I have heard of him;
A merchant of incomparable wealth.
TRANIO:
He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
BIONDELLO:
TRANIO:
To save your life in this extremity,
This favour will I do you for his sake;
And think it not the worst of an your fortunes
That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
His name and credit shall you undertake,
And in my house you shall be friendly lodged:
Look that you take upon you as you should;
You understand me, sir: so shall you stay
Till you have done your business in the city:
If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.
Pedant:
O sir, I do; and will repute you ever
The patron of my life and liberty.
TRANIO:
Then go with me to make the matter good.
This, by the way, I let you understand;
my father is here look'd for every day,
To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.
GRUMIO:
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
KATHARINA:
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty have a present aims;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
With oath kept waking and with brawling fed:
And that which spites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love;
As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
I prithee go and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRUMIO:
What say you to a neat's foot?
KATHARINA:
'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
GRUMIO:
I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?