A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
Enter KATHARINA and GRUMIO
GRUMIO
No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
KATHARINA
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?
Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
Upon entreaty have a present aims;
If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
But I, who never knew how to entreat,
Nor never needed that I should entreat,
Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
With oath kept waking and with brawling fed:
And that which spites me more than all these wants,
He does it under name of perfect love;
As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
I prithee go and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRUMIO
What say you to a neat's foot?
KATHARINA
'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
GRUMIO
I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
KATHARINA
I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRUMIO
I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
KATHARINA
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRUMIO
Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHARINA
Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIO
Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KATHARINA
Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.