Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Hor. Frets call you these? (quoth she) Ile fume with them:
Hor. And with that word she stroke me on the head,
Hor. And through the instrument my pate made way,
Hor. And there I stood amazed for a while,
Hor. As on a Pillorie, looking through the Lute,
Hor. While she did call me Rascall, Fidler,
Hor. And twangling Iacke, with twentie such vilde tearmes,
Hor. As had she studied to misvse me so.
Pet. Pet.
Pet. Now by the world, it is a lustie Wench,
Pet. I loue her ten times more then ere I did,
Pet. Oh how I long to haue some chat with her.
Bap. Bap.
Bap. Wel go with me, and be not so discomfited.
Bap. Proceed in practise with my yonger daughter,
Bap. She's apt to learne, and thankefull for good turnes:
Bap. Signior Petruchio, will you go with vs,
Bap. Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you.
Bap. Exit. Manet Petruchio.