Signior Petruchio, will you go with us
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
I pray you do. I’ll attend her here—
All but Petruchio exit.
And woo her with some spirit when she comes!
Say that she rail, why then I’ll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
Say that she frown, I’ll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly washed with dew.
Say she be mute and will not speak a word,
Then I’ll commend her volubility
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
If she do bid me pack, I’ll give her thanks
As though she bid me stay by her a week.
If she deny to wed, I’ll crave the day
When I shall ask the banns, and when be marrièd.
But here she comes—and now, Petruchio, speak.