« AnteriorContinua »
Enter Catharina, Bianca and Widow.
[She pulls off her cap, and throws it down.
Bian, Fie, what a foolish duty call
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too!
Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my duty.
Cath. Fie! fie! unknit that threatning unkind brow,
" And while it is so, none. so dry or thirsty “ Will dain to fip, or touch one drop of it. “ Thy Husband is thy Lord, thy Life, thy Keeper, 66 Thy Head, thy Sovereign; one that cares for thee, " And for thy maintenance : commits his body “ To painful labour, both by sea and land; " To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, " While thou ly'st warm at home, secure and safe, « And craves no other tribute at thy hands, 6. But love, fair looks, and true obedience; “ Too little payment for so great a debt. 6. Such duty as the Subject owes the Prince, 6. Even such a woman oweth to her husband : " And when she’s froward, peevish, fullen, sower, « And not obedient to his honest will; 6. What is she but a foul contending Rebel, « And graceless Traitor to her loving Lord ? “ I am alham’d, that Women are so simple 6 To offer war where they should kneel for peace ; “ Or seek for rule, fupremacy, and sway, 6. When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world, « But that our soft conditions and our hearts 66 Should well agree with our external parts ?" Come, come, you froward and unable worms, My mind hath been as big as one of yours, My heart as great, my reason haply more, To bandy word for word, and frown for frown; But, now I see, our launces are but straws, Our strength as weak, our weakness paft compare ; That seeming to be most, which we indeed least are. Then vale your stomachs, for it is no boot, And place your hands below your Husband's foot: In token of which duty, if he please, My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
Pet. Why, there's a wench: come on, and kiss
Luc: Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt hart,
[Exeunt Petruchio and Catharina, Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a curft
Shrew. Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.
[Exeunt omnes. Enter two servants bearing Sly in his own apparel, and
leaving him on the Stage. Then enter a Tapfter. Sly awaking. ] Sim, give's some more wine — what, all the Players gone? am not I a Lord?
Tap. Å Lord, with a murrain! come, art thou drunk Atill?
Sly. Who's this? Tapster! ob, I have had the bravel dream that ever thou heardt in all thy life.
Tap. Yea, marry, but thou hadft best get thee home, for your Wife will course you for dreaming bere all night.
Sly. Will she? I know how to tame a Shrew. I dreamt upon it all this night, and thou baft wak'd me out of the best dream that ever I had. Bui I'll to my Wife and tame her too, if she anger me.
The End of the Second Volume.