Pet. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile, Intolerable, not to be endur'd! Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress; Say, I command her come to me. Hor. I know her answer.. Pet. What? Hor. She will not come! [Exit GRUMIO. Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. Enter KATHARINA. Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina! 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, I say, and bring them hither straight. [Exit KATHARINA. Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Hor. And so it is; I wonder, what it bodes. Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, And awful rule, and right supremacy; And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy. The wager thou hast won; and I will add Re-enter KATHARINA, with BIANCA and Widow. wives As prisoners to her womanly persuasion. -- Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not; [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 headstrong 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. 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, 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. et A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey, But now, I see our lances are but straws; Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,~~ And place your hands below your husband's foot: My hand is ready, may it do him ease. Pet. Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me Kate. Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt ward. Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed: We three are married, but you two are sped. |