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Good morrow, Kate, for that’s your name, I hear.

Kath.

Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:

They call me Katherine that do talk of me.

Pet.

You lie, in faith, for you are call’d plain Kate,

And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;

But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,

Kate of Kate-Hall, my super-dainty Kate,

For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,

Take this of me, Kate of my consolation—

Hearing thy mildness prais’d in every town,

Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,

Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,

Myself am mov’d to woo thee for my wife.

Kath.

Mov’d! in good time! Let him that mov’d you hither

Remove you hence. I knew you at the first

You were a moveable.

Pet.

Why, what’s a moveable?

Kath.

A join’d-stool.

Pet.

Thou hast hit it; come sit on me.

Kath.

Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

Pet.

Women are made to bear, and so are you.

Kath.

No such jade as you, if me you mean.

Pet.

Alas, good Kate, I will not burthen thee,