“BAPTISTA. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
That is, her love; for that is all in all. PETRUCHIO. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together, They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. So I to her, and so she yields to me; For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. BAPTISTA. Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed”