A woman moy'd, is like a fountain troubled, To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, 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,— 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 ha't. Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward. 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 [Exeunt. tam'd so. |