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The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare
page 73 of 120 (60%)
Cur. This 'tis to feele a tale, not to heare a tale

Gru. And therefore 'tis cal'd a sensible tale: and this
Cuffe was but to knocke at your eare, and beseech listning:
now I begin, Inprimis wee came downe a fowle
hill, my Master riding behinde my Mistris

Cur. Both of one horse?
Gru. What's that to thee?
Cur. Why a horse

Gru. Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crost me,
thou shouldst haue heard how her horse fel, and she vnder
her horse: thou shouldst haue heard in how miery a
place, how she was bemoil'd, how hee left her with the
horse vpon her, how he beat me because her horse stumbled,
how she waded through the durt to plucke him off
me: how he swore, how she prai'd, that neuer prai'd before:
how I cried, how the horses ranne away, how her
bridle was burst: how I lost my crupper, with manie
things of worthy memorie, which now shall die in obliuion,
and thou returne vnexperienc'd to thy graue

Cur. By this reckning he is more shrew than she

Gru. I, and that thou and the proudest of you all shall
finde when he comes home. But what talke I of this?
Call forth Nathaniel, Ioseph, Nicholas, Phillip, Walter, Sugersop
and the rest: let their heads bee slickely comb'd,
their blew coats brush'd, and their garters of an indifferent
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