PETRUCHIO.
My remedy is then to pluck it out.
KATHERINA.
Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PETRUCHIO.
Who knows not where a wasp does 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? Nay, come again,
Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
KATHERINA.
That I’ll try.
[Striking him.]
PETRUCHIO.
I swear I’ll cuff you if you strike again.