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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, An 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,
Re-enter KATHARINA, with BIANCA and Widow.
See, where she comes, and brings your froward wives
[KATHARINA pulls off her cap, and throws it
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.
AN hundred crowns
-] Old copies, "fire hundred." Corrected by Pope.
Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
Pet. I say, she shall :-and first begin with her.
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
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 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 whites; [TO LUCENTIO. And, being a winner, God give you good night. [Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATH. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curst shrew.
Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd
7 Then VAIL your stomachs,] i. e. lower or abate your pride.
though you hit the WHITE ;] To "hit the white" is a phrase borrowed from archery; the white being the centre of the target.