The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen spirits, and she said: “Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, and speak I will. I am no child, no babe. Your betters have endured to hear me say my mind; and if you cannot, you had better stop your ears.” Petruchio would not hear these angry words, for he had happily discovered a better way of managing his wife than keeping up a jangling argument with her; therefore his answer was: “Why, you say true; it is a paltry cap, and I love you for not liking it.” “Love me, or love me not,” said Katharine, “I like the cap, and I will have this cap or none.” “You say you wish to see the gown,” said Petruchio, still affecting to misunderstand her. The tailor then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had made for her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have neither cap nor gown, found as much fault with that. “Oh, mercy, Heaven!” said he, “what stuff is here! What, do you call this a sleeve? it is like a demi-cannon, carved up and down like an apple tart.” The tailor said, “You bid me make it according to the fashion of the times”; and Katharine said she never saw a better-fashioned gown. This was enough for Petruchio, and privately desiring these people might be paid for their goods, and excuses made to them for the seemingly strange treatment he bestowed upon them, he with fierce words and furious gestures drove the tailor and the haberdasher out of the room; and then, turning to Katharine, he said: “Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father’s even in these mean garments we now wear.” And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach Baptista’s house by dinner-time, for that it was but seven o’clock. Now it was not early morning, but the very middle of the day, when he spoke this; therefore Katharine ventured to say, though modestly, being almost overcome by the vehemence of his manner: “I dare assure you, sir, it is two o’clock, and will be suppertime before we get there.” But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that she should assent to everything he said before he carried her to her father; and therefore, as if he were lord even of the sun and could command the hours, he said it. should be what time he pleased to have it, before beset forward. “For,” he said, “whatever I say or do, you still are crossing it. I will not go to-day, and when I go, it shall be what o’clock I say it is.” Another day Katharine was forced to practise her newly found obedience, and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a perfect subjection that she dared not remember there was such a word as contradiction would Petruchio allow her to go to her father’s house; and even while they were upon their journey thither she was in danger of being turned back again, only because she happened to hint it was the sun when he affirmed the moon shone brightly at noonday.