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Pet.

      Twenty crowns!

      I’ll venture so much of my hawk or hound,

      But twenty times so much upon my wife.

       Luc.

      A hundred then.

       Hor.

      Content.

       Pet.

      A match! ’tis done.

       Hor.

      Who shall begin?

       Luc.

      That will I.

      Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

       Bion.

      I go.

       Exit.

       Bap.

      Son, I’ll be your half, Bianca comes.

       Luc.

      I’ll have no halves; I’ll bear it all myself.

       Enter Biondello.

      How now, what news?

       Bion.

      Sir, my mistress sends you word

      That she is busy, and she cannot come.

       Pet.

      How? she is busy, and she cannot come!

      Is that an answer?

       Gre.

      Ay, and a kind one too.

      Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

       Pet.

      I hope better.

       Hor.

      Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife

      To come to me forthwith.

       Exit Biondello.

       Pet.

      O ho, entreat her!

      Nay then she must needs come.

       Hor.

      I am afraid, sir,

      Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.

       Enter Biondello.

      Now, where’s my wife?

       Bion.

      She says you have some goodly jest in hand.

      She will not come; she bids you come to her.

       Pet.

      Worse and worse; she will not come! O vild,

      Intolerable, not to be endur’d!

      Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress,

      Say I command her come to me.

       Exit [Grumio].

       Hor.

      I know her answer.

       Pet.

      What?

       Hor.

      She will not.

       Pet.

      The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.

       Enter Katherina.

       Bap.

      Now, by my holidam, here comes Katherina!

       Kath.

      What is your will, sir, that you send for me?

       Pet.

      Where is your sister, and Hortensio’s wife?

       Kath.

      They sit conferring by the parlor fire.

       Pet.

      Go fetch them hither. If they deny to come,

      Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.

      Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.

       [Exit Katherina.]

       Luc.

      Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.

       Hor.

      And so it is; I wonder what it bodes.

       Pet.

      Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,

      An aweful rule, and right supremacy;

      And to be short, what not, that’s sweet and happy.

       Bap.

      Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!

      The wager thou hast won, and I will add

      Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns,

      Another dowry to another daughter,

      For she is chang’d, as she had never been.

       Pet.

      Nay, I will win my wager better yet,

      And show more sign of her obedience,

      Her

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