Hortenfio; and I trow this is the house;

Heré, firrah, Grumio, knock I fay.*

Enter Hortenfio. t

Hər. Alla noftra cafa ben venuto, multo bonorato Signior

mio Petruchio. +

And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy gale

Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

knock I fay.

Gru. Knock, Sir? whom Thould I knock? is there any man has res bus'd your worship?

Pet. Villain, 1 fay, knock me here foundly.

Gru. Knock you here, Sir? why, Sir, what am I, Sir,

That I fhould knock you here, Sir?

Pet. Villain, I fay knock me at this gate,

And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.
Gru. My matter is grown quarrelfome :

1 fhould knock you first,

And then I know after, who comes by the worst.
Pet. Will it not be?

'Faith, firrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it,

I'll try how you can Sol, Fa, and fing it. He wrings him by the ears. Gru. Help. mitreis, help, my mafter is mad.

Pet. Now knock when I bid you: firrah, villain.

+

Enter, &t.

Hor. How now, what's the matter? my old friend Grumie, and my good friend Petruchio! how do you all at Verona?

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray? Con tutti le core bene trovato may I fay.

Hor Alla, &c.

+

mio Petruchio.

Rife, Grumio, we will compound this quarrel.

Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he leges in latin. If this be not a lawful caufe for me to leave his fervice, look you, Sir: he bid me knock him, and rap him foundly, Sir. We'l, was it fit for a fervant to ufe his matter fo, being perhaps, for ought I fee, two and thirty, a pip out?

Whom would to God I had well knock'd at fi:ft,

Then had not Grumis come by the worst.

Pet. A fenfelefs villain! Good Hortenfio,

1 bd the rafcal knock upon your gate,

And could not get him for my heart to do it.

Gru. Knock at the gate? O heav'ns! fpake you not there words plain? knock me here, rap me here, Inock me well, and knɔk me foundly and come you now with knocking at the gate ?

P. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. Hor. Petruchio, patience, I am Grumio's pledge: Why, this is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you, Your ancient, trusty, pleafant ervant Grumjo And tell me now, &c.

Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the world,

To feek their fortunes farther than at home,

Where small experience grows; but in a few,
Signior Hortenfio, thus it ftands with me,
Antonio my father is deceas'd,

And I have thruft my felf into this maze,
Happ❜ly to wive and thrive, as best I may :
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And fo am come abroad to fee the world.

Hor. Petruckio, fhall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish thee to a fhrewd ill-favour'd wife?
Thou'lt thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet I'll promise thee fhe shall be rich,
And very rich but thou'rt too much my friend,
And I'll not wifh thee to her.

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt fuch friends as us
Few words fuffice; and therefore if you know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife;
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance)
Be the as foul as was * Florentius' love,
As old as Sybil, and as curft and fhrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,

She moves me not, or not removes, at least,'
Affection's edge in me. Were the as rough
As are the fwelling Adriatick feas,

I come to wive it wealthily in Padua:
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

Gru. Nay, look you, Sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is why, give him gold enough, and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby, or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, tho' fhe have as many diseases as two and fifty horses; why, nothing comes amifs, fo mony comes withal.

Hor. Petruchio, fince we are ftept thus far in,

I will continue that I broach'd in jeft.

can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife

With wealth enough, and young and beauteous,
Brought up as beft becomes a gentlewoman.

This probably alludes to fome ftory in an Italian novel, and

fhould be written Florentio's love.

Her

Her only fault, and that is fault enough,

Is, that he is intolerably curft,

And fhrewd, and froward, fo beyond all measure,
That were my ftate far worfer than it is,

I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

Pet. Hortenfio, peace; thou know'ft not gold's effect Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough:

For I will board her, tho' the chide as loud,
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
Her. Her father is Baptifta Minola,
An affable and courteous gentleman';
Her name is Catharina Minola,

Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue.

Pet. I know her father, tho' I know not her,
And he knew my deceased father well;
I will not fleep, Hortenfio, 'till I fee her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this firft encounter
Unless you will accompany me thither.

Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour lafts. O'my word, an fhe knew him as well as I do, the would think scolding would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a fcore knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing; an he begin once, he'll rail in his rhe torick: I'll tell you what, Sir, an fhe ftand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, that fhe fhall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat: you know him not, Sir.

Har. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee, For in Baptifta's houfe my treasure is

He hath the jewel of my life in hold,

His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,

And her with-holds he from me, and other more
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love :
Suppofing it a thing impoffible,

From thofe defects I have before rehears❜d,
That ever Catharina will be woo'd;
Therefore this order hath Baptifta ta'en,
That none fhall have accefs unto Bianca,
'Till Catharine the curft have got a husband.

Grü

Gru. Catharine the curft!

A title for a maid of all titles the worst.

Hor, Now fhall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
And offer me difguis'd in fober robes
To old Baptifta as a school-master

Well feen in mufick, to inftru&t Bianca;
That fo I may, by this device, at leaft
Have leave and leifure to make love to her,
And unfufpected court her by her felf.

SCENE VI.

Enter Gremio and Lucentio difguis'd.

Gru. Here's no knavery! fee, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Master, look about you: who goes there? ha.

Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the rival of my love.
Petruchio, ftand by a while.

Gru. A proper ftripling, and an amorous.
Gre. O, very well; I have perus'd the note.
Hark you, I'll have them very fairly bound,
All books of love, fee that, at any hand;
And fee you read no other lectures to her:
You understand me. Over and befide
Signior Baptifta's liberality,

I'll mend it with a largefs. Take your papers
And let me have them very well perfum'd,
For fhe is sweeter than perfume it felf

To whom they go: what will you read to her?...
Luc. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you
As for my patron, ftand you fo affured;
As firmly as your felf were ftill in place,
Yea, and perhaps with more fuccefsful words
Than you, unless you were a fcholar, Sir.
Gre. Oh this learning, what a thing it is!
Gru. Oh this woodcock, what an afs it is!
Pet. Peace, Sirrah.

Hor. Grumio, mum! God fave you, Signior Gremio. Gre. And you are well met, Signior Hortenfio. Trow you whither I am going? to Baptifta Minola; I promis'd to enquire carefully about a fchool-mafter for the fair Bianca, and by good fortune I have lighted well on this young man åt.

for

for learning and behaviour fit for her turn, well read in
poetry, and other books, good ones, I wairant ye.
Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman
Hath promis'd me to help me to another,
A fine musician to inftruct our mistress;
So fhall I no whit be behind in duty
To fair Bianca, fo belov'd of me.

Gre. Belov'd of me, and that my deeds fhall prove.
Gru. And that his bags fhall prove.

Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love.
Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,
I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.
Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
Upon agreement from us to his liking,
Will undertake to woo curft Catharine,
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
Gre. So faid, fo done, is well;
Hortenfio, have you told him all her faults?

Pet. I know fhe is an irksome brawling scold;
If that be all, mafters, I hear no harm.

Gre. No, fay'ft me fo, friend? pray, what countryman ? Pet. Born in Verona, old Antonio's fon;

My father's dead, my fortune lives for me,

And I do hope good days and long to fee.

Gre. Oh, fuch a life with fuch a wife were strange;

But if you have a stomach, to't a God's name,

You fhall have me affifting you in all.

But will you woo this wild cat?

Pet. Will I live?

Gru. Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.
Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent?
Think you a little din can daunt my ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the fea, puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat ?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field?
And heav'n's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battel heard

Loud larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clangue?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,

That