PETRUCHIO: Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't. 
O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop: 
Why, what, i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?
HORTENSIO: [Aside] I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.
Tailor: You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion and the time.
PETRUCHIO: Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd, 
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go, hop me over every kennel home,
For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.
KATHARINA: I never saw a better-fashion'd gown, 
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
PETRUCHIO: Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
Tailor: She says your worship means to make
a puppet of her. 
PETRUCHIO: O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread? 
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard
As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
Tailor: Your worship is deceived; the gown is made 
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRUMIO: I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
Tailor: But how did you desire it should be made?
GRUMIO: Marry, sir, with needle and thread. 
Tailor: But did you not request to have it cut?
GRUMIO: Thou hast faced many things.
Tailor: I have.
GRUMIO: Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not
me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto 
thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did
not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.
Tailor: Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
PETRUCHIO: Read it.
GRUMIO: The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so. 
Tailor: [Reads] 'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:'
GRUMIO: Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in
the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom
of brown thread: I said a gown.
PETRUCHIO: Proceed. 
Tailor: [Reads] 'With a small compassed cape:'
GRUMIO: I confess the cape.
Tailor: [Reads] 'With a trunk sleeve:'
GRUMIO: I confess two sleeves.
Tailor: [Reads] 'The sleeves curiously cut.' 
PETRUCHIO: Ay, there's the villany.
GRUMIO: Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill.
I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and
sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee,
though thy little finger be armed in a thimble. 
Tailor: This is true that I say: an I had thee
in place where, thou shouldst know it.
GRUMIO: I am for thee straight: take thou the
bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
HORTENSIO: God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds. 
PETRUCHIO: Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
GRUMIO: You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.
PETRUCHIO: Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
GRUMIO: Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress'
gown for thy master's use! 
PETRUCHIO: Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
GRUMIO: O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
O, fie, fie, fie!
PETRUCHIO: [Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid. 
Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
HORTENSIO: Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow:
Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
PETRUCHIO: Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's 
Even in these honest mean habiliments:
Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit. 
What is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his fathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse 
For this poor furniture and mean array.
if thou account'st it shame. lay it on me;
And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
Go, call my men, and let us straight to him; 
And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot
Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.
KATHARINA: I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two; 
And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
PETRUCHIO: It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone:
I will not go to-day; and ere I do, 
It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
HORTENSIO: [Aside] Why, so this gallant will command the sun.