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TRANIO:
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'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
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Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd.
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BAPTISTA:
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I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
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BIONDELLO:
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Why, sir, he comes not.
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BAPTISTA:
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Didst thou not say he comes?
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BIONDELLO:
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Who? that Petruchio came?
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BAPTISTA:
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Ay, that Petruchio came.
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BIONDELLO:
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No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
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BAPTISTA:
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Why, that's all one.
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BIONDELLO:
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Nay, by Saint Jamy,
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I hold you a penny,
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A horse and a man
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Is more than one,
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And yet not many.
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PETRUCHIO:
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Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?
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BAPTISTA:
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You are welcome, sir.
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PETRUCHIO:
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And yet I come not well.
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BAPTISTA:
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And yet you halt not.
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TRANIO:
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Not so well apparell'd
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As I wish you were.
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PETRUCHIO:
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Were it better, I should rush in thus.
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But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
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How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown:
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And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
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As if they saw some wondrous monument,
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Some comet or unusual prodigy?
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BAPTISTA:
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Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
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First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
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Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
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Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
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An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
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TRANIO:
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And tells us, what occasion of import
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Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
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And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
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PETRUCHIO:
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Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
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Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
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Though in some part enforced to digress;
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Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
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As you shall well be satisfied withal.
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But where is Kate? I stay too long from her:
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The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
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TRANIO:
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See not your bride in these unreverent robes:
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Go to my chamber; Put on clothes of mine.
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PETRUCHIO:
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Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.
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BAPTISTA:
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But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
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PETRUCHIO:
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Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words:
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To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
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Could I repair what she will wear in me,
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As I can change these poor accoutrements,
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'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
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But what a fool am I to chat with you,
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When I should bid good morrow to my bride,
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And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
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TRANIO:
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He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
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