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Pet. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
Hor. I know her answer.
She will not come. Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
Enter Katharina. Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katha
rina! Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send for me? Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio’s wife? Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire. Pet. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to
come, Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands: Away,
life, And awful rule, and right supremacy; And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy.
Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet;
And show more sign of her obedience,
Re-enter Katharina, with Bianca and Widow. See, where she comes; and brings your froward
becomes you not; Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.
[Katharina pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a silly pass ! Bian. Fie! what a foolish duty call you
this? Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too: The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time.
Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty. Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these head
strong women What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have
no telling Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her. Wid. She shall not. Pet. I say, she shall;—and first begin with her. Kath. Fie, fie! unknit that threat’ning unkind
brow: And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds; And in no sense is meet, or amiable.
A woman moy’d, is like a fountain troubled,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare, —
Pet. Why, there's a wench!—Come on, and kiss
Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt
ha't. Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are to
Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are froward.
Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to-bed :We three are married, but you two are sped. 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
[To Lucentio. And, being a winner, God give you good night!
[Exeunt Petruchio and Katharina. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curst
shrew. Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.