THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. 53

complaining that the naughty girl had broken her lute over his head,
because he told her she was not playing correctly.

‘Never mind,” said Petruchio, “I love her better than ever, and
long to have some chat with her.”

_ When Katharine came, he said ‘‘ Good-morrow, Kate—for that, I hear,
is your name.”

“You've only heard half,” said Katharine, rudely.

“Oh, no,” said Petruchio, “they call you plain Kate, and bonny
Kate, and sometimes Kate the shrew, and so, hearing your mildness
praised in every town, and your beauty too, I ask you for my wife.”

“ Your wife!” cried Kate. ‘“ Never!” She said some extremely dis-
agreeable things to him, and, I am sorry to say, ended by boxing his
ears.

“Tf you do that again, Pll cuff you,” he said quietly; and still
protested, with many compliments, that he would marry none but her.

When Baptista came back, he asked at once—

“How speed you with my daughter?”

“How should I speed but well,” replied
Petruchio—‘‘ how, but well?”

“How now, daughter Katharine?” the
father went on.

“T don’t think,” said Katharine, anerily,
“you are acting a father’s part in wishing me
to marry this mad-cap rufhan.”

“A!” said Petruchio, “you
and all the world would talk
amiss of her. You should see
how kind she is to me when we
are alone. In short, I will go
off to Venice to buy fine things
for our weddine—for—kiss me,
Kate! we will be married on
Sunday.”

And with that, Catharine
flounced out of the room by one
door in a violent temper, and he,