Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 43
KATHERINA. It is my fashion when I see a crab.
PETRUCHIO. Why, here ' s no crab, and therefore look not sour. KATHERINA. There is, there is. PETRUCHIO. Then show it me. KATHERINA. Had I a glass I would. PETRUCHIO. What, you mean my face? KATHERINA. Well aim ' d of such a young one. PETRUCHIO. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you. KATHERINA. Yet you are wither ' d. PETRUCHIO. ' Tis with cares. KATHERINA. I care not. PETRUCHIO. Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth, you ' scape not so. KATHERINA. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.
PETRUCHIO. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle. ' Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar; For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers. Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance, Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will, Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk; But thou with mildness entertain ' st thy wooers; With gentle conference, soft and affable. Why does the world report that Kate doth limp? O sland ' rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels. O! let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.