BAPTISTA
Why how now dame, whence grows this insolence?
Bianca stand aside. Poor girl, she weeps.
Go ply thy needle, meddle not with her.
For shame thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
Why dost thou wrong her, that did ne'er wrong thee?
When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
KATHARINE
Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged.
[Makes for BIANCA.]
BAPTISTA [holds her back]
What, in my sight? Bianca get thee in.
[Exit BIANCA.]
KATHARINE
What will you not suffer me? Nay now I see
She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
I must dance barefoot 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.