text stringlengths 0 63 |
|---|
KATHARINA: |
Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry. |
KATHARINA: |
If I be waspish, best beware my sting. |
PETRUCHIO: |
My remedy is then, to pluck it out. |
KATHARINA: |
Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies, |
PETRUCHIO: |
Who knows not where a wasp does |
wear his sting? In his tail. |
KATHARINA: |
In his tongue. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Whose tongue? |
KATHARINA: |
Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. |
PETRUCHIO: |
What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, |
Good Kate; I am a gentleman. |
KATHARINA: |
That I'll try. |
PETRUCHIO: |
I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again. |
KATHARINA: |
So may you lose your arms: |
If you strike me, you are no gentleman; |
And if no gentleman, why then no arms. |
PETRUCHIO: |
A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books! |
KATHARINA: |
What is your crest? a coxcomb? |
PETRUCHIO: |
A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen. |
KATHARINA: |
No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour. |
KATHARINA: |
It is my fashion, when I see a crab. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour. |
KATHARINA: |
There is, there is. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Then show it me. |
KATHARINA: |
Had I a glass, I would. |
PETRUCHIO: |
What, you mean my face? |
KATHARINA: |
Well aim'd of such a young one. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you. |
KATHARINA: |
Yet you are wither'd. |
PETRUCHIO: |
'Tis with cares. |
KATHARINA: |
I care not. |
PETRUCHIO: |
Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth you scape not so. |
KATHARINA: |
I chafe you, if I tarry: let me go. |
PETRUCHIO: |
No, not a whit: I find you passing gentle. |
'Twas told me you were rough and coy and sullen, |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.