Curt. [In her] chamber, making a sermon of continency to her;

And rails, and [swears], and rates, [that she], poor soul,

Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,

And sits as one new-risen from a dream.

Away, away! for he is coming hither. [[Exeunt].

[Re-enter Petruchio.]

Pet. Thus have I politicly begun my reign,

And 'tis my hope to end successfully.

My falcon now is sharp and passing empty;

And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,