Kath. I know it is the moon.
Pet. Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.
Kath. Then God be bless’d, it is the blessed sun.
But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it named, even that it is;
And so it shall be so, for Katharine.
Enter Vincentio, in a travelling dress
Pet. (to Vincentio). Good morrow, gentle mistress; where away?
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,