And you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter

Petruchio
And you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter
Called Katherina, fair and virtuous?
Baptista
I have a daughter, sir, called Katherina.
Gremio, to Petruchio
You are too blunt. Go to it orderly.
Petruchio
You wrong me, Signior Gremio. Give me leave.—
I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
That hearing of her beauty and her wit,
Her affability and bashful modesty,
Her wondrous qualities and mild behavior,
Am bold to show myself a forward guest
Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard,
And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
I do present you with a man of mine,
Presenting Hortensio, disguised as Litio
Cunning in music and the mathematics,
To instruct her fully in those sciences,
Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
Accept of him, or else you do me wrong.
His name is Litio, born in Mantua.
Baptista
You’re welcome, sir, and he for your good sake.
But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
Petruchio
I see you do not mean to part with her,
Or else you like not of my company.
Baptista
Mistake me not. I speak but as I find.
Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
Petruchio
Petruchio is my name, Antonio’s son,
A man well known throughout all Italy.
Baptista
I know him well. You are welcome for his sake.