“Come, come, you wasp; i’ faith, you are too angry.

Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

Petruchio: My remedy is then, to pluck it out.

Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies.

Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.

Katherine: In his tongue.

Petruchio: Whose tongue?

Katherine: 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.”