text stringlengths 0 63 |
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Tailor: |
GRUMIO: |
I confess the cape. |
Tailor: |
GRUMIO: |
I confess two sleeves. |
Tailor: |
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 lark, |
Because his fathers are more beautiful? |
Or is the adder better than the eel, |
Because his painted skin contents the eye? |
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse |
For this poor furniture and mean array. |
if thou account'st it shame. lay it on me; |
And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith, |
To feast and sport us at thy father's house. |
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him; |
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end; |
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot |
Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock, |
And well we may come there by dinner-time. |
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 |
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