Page 1449 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

BAPT IST A

How now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?

HORT ENSIO

For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.

BAPT IST A

What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

HORT ENSIO

I think she’ll sooner prove a soldier.
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. [145]

BAPT IST A

Why then, thou canst not break her to the lute?

HORT ENSIO

Why no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bow’d her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit, [150]
‘Frets, call you these?’ quoth she, ‘I’ll fume with them.’
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way,
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute, [155]
While she did call me rascal fiddler
And twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms,
As had she studied to misuse me so.

PET RUCHIO

Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench.
I love her ten times more than e’er I did. [160]
O, how I long to have some chat with her.

BAPT IST A

Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
She’s apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
Signor Petruchio, will you go with us, [165]