thanks.  What not a word?  Nay then you love not the meat, and all the pains I have taken is to no purpose.”  He then ordered the servant to take the dish away.  Extreme hunger, which had abated the pride of Katherine, made her say, though angered to the heart, “I pray you, let it stand.”  But this was not all Petruchio intended to bring her to, and he replied, “The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall mine before you touch the meat.”  On this Katherine brought out a reluctant “I thank you, sir.”  And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying, “Much good may it do your gentle heart, Kate; eat apace!  And now, my honey love, we will return to your father’s house, and revel it as bravely as the best, with silken coats and caps and golden rings, with ruffs and scarfs and fans and double change of finery;” and to make her believe he really intended to give her these gay things, he called in a taylor and a haberdasher, who brought some new clothes he had ordered for her, and then giving her plate to the servant to take away, before she had half satisfied her hunger, he said, “What? have you dined?” The haberdasher presented a cap, saying, “Here is the cap your worship bespoke;” on which Petruchio began to storm afresh, saying, the cap was moulded in a porringer, and that it was no bigger than a cockle or a walnut shell, desiring the haberdasher to take it away and make a bigger.  Katherine said, “I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps as these.”  “When you are gentle,” replied Petruchio, “you shall have one too, and not till then.”  The meat Katherine had eaten had a little revived her fallen spirits, and she said, “Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, and speak I will.  I am no child, no babe; your betters have endured to hear me say my mind; and if you cannot, you had better stop you ears.”  Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily discovered a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a jangling argument with her; therefore his answer was, “Why, you say true, it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not liking it.”  “Love me, or love me not,” said Katherine, “I like the cap, and I will have this cap or none.”  “You say you wish to see the gown,” said Petruchio, still affecting to misunderstand her.  The taylor then came forward, and shewed her a fine gown he had made for her.  Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have neither cap nor gown, found as much fault with that.  “O mercy, Heaven!” said he, “what stuff is here!  What, do you call this a sleeve? it is like a demy-cannon, carved up and down like an apple-tart.”  The taylor said, “You bid me make it according to the fashion of the times;” and Katherine said she never saw a better fashioned gown.  This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these people might be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them for the seemingly strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he with fierce words and furious gestures drove the taylor and the haberdasher out