Petruchio: Come, come, you wasp! In faith you are too angry!
Katherina: If I be waspish, best beware my sting!
Petruchio: My remedy then is to pluck it out!
Katherina: Hah! If the fool could find where it lies!
Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting? In his tail!
Katherina: In his tongue!
Petruchio: Whose tongue?
Katherina: Yours! -if you talk of tales, and so farewell!
Petruchio: What? With my tongue in your tail? |