KATHERINA.
What! will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,
And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep
Till I can find occasion of revenge.

[Exit.]

BAPTISTA. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I?
But who comes here?

[Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man;
PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO, with
BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books.]

GREMIO.
Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.

BAPTISTA.
Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you, gentlemen!

PETRUCHIO.
And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?

BAPTISTA.
I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katherina.