SCENE II.
Enter Petruchio, Antonio, and two Gentlemen.
Ant. Cut his wind-pipe I say.
1 Gent. Fye, Antonio.
Ant. Or knock his brains out first, and then forgive him,
If you do thrust, be sure it be to th'hilts,
A Surgeon may see through him.
1 Gent. You are too violent.
2 Gent. Too open undiscreet.
Pet. Am I not ruin'd?
The honour of my house crack'd? my bloud poyson'd?
My Credit and my Name?
2 Gent. Be sure it be so,
Before ye use this violence: Let not doubt,
And a suspecting anger so much sway ye,
Your wisedom may be question'd.
Ant. I say kill him,
And then dispute the cause; cut off what may be,
And what is shall be safe.