Cath. Fie! fie! unknit that threatning unkind brow,
And dart not fcornful glances from thofe eyes,
To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Governor.
It blots thy beauty, as frofts bite the meads;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds fhake fair buds ;
And in no fenfe is meet or amiable.

A Woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-feeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is fo, none fo dry or thirsty
Well dain to fip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy Husband is thy Lord, thy Life, thy Keeper,
Thy Head, thy Sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by fea and land;

To watch the night in ftorms, the day in cold,
While thou ly'ft warm at home, fecure and fafe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for fo great a debt.
Such duty as the Subject owes the Prince,
Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband:
And when fhe's froward, peevish, fullen, fower,
And not obedient to his honest will;
What is the but a foul contending Rebel,
And graceless Traitor to her loving Lord?
I am afham'd, that Women are fo fimple
To offer war where they fhould kneel for peace;
Or feek for rule, fupremacy, and fway,
When they are bound to ferve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies foft, and weak and fmooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our foft conditions and our hearts
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 reafon haply more,
To bardy word for word, and frown for frown;
But, now I fee, our launces are but ftraws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare;

That

That feeming to be moit, which we indeed leaft are.
Then vale your ftomachs, 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 cafe.

Pet. Why, there's a wench: come on, and kifs me, Kate.

Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou fhalt 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 fped.
'Twas I won the wager, tho' you hit the white;
And being a winner, God give you good night.

[Exeunt Petruchio and Catharina. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou haft tam'd a curft Shrew.

Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, he will be tam'd fo. [Exeunt omnes.

Enter two fervants bearing Sly in his own apparel, and leaving him on the Stage. Then enter a Tapfter. Sly awaking.] Sim, give's fome more wine what, all the Players gone? am not I a Lord?

Tap. A Lord, with a murrain! come, art thou drunk fill?

Sly. Who's this? Tapfter! oh, I have had the bravest dream that ever thou heardft in all thy life.

Tap. Yea, marry, but thou hadst beft get thee home, for your Wife will courfe you for dreaming here all night.

Sly. Will he ? I know how to tame a Shrew. I dreamt upon it all this night, and thou haft wak'd me out of the best dream that ever I had. But I'll to my Wife and tame her too, if she anger me.

The End of the Second Volume