Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But, soft! company is
Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away?
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld
a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven
with such beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more good day
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents
of so fair a child;
Happier the man, whom favourable stars
Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
And not a
maiden, as thou say'st he is.
Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
That have been so bedazzled with the sun
That everything I look
on seemeth green:
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known
Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
We shall be
joyful of thy company.
Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
My name is
call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa;
And bound I am to Padua; there to visit
A son of mine, which long I have
What is his name?
Lucentio, gentle sir.
Happily we met; the happier for thy son.
And now by law, as well as reverend age,
I may entitle thee my
The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
be grieved: she is of good esteem,
Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth;
Beside, so qualified as may
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