Hortenfio; and, I trow, this is the house;
Here, firrah, Grumio, knock, I say.

Gru. Knock, Sir? whom should I knock? is there

any man, has rebus'd your worship?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here foundly.

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

Sir,

That I should knock you here, Sir?

Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,
And rap me well; or I'll knock your knave's pate.
Gru. My master is grown quarrelsome: I should
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, masters, help; my master is mad.
Pet. Now knock, when I bid you: Sirrah! Villain!

Enter Hortenfio.

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

4

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray ? Con tutto il Core ben trovato, may I say.

Hor. Alla nostra Cafa ben venuto, molto honorato Signor mio Petruchio.

Rife Grumio, rife; we will compound this quarrel.

Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he leges in Latine. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look you, Sir: he bid me knock him, and rap him foundly, Sir. Well, was it fit for a fervant to use his master so, being, perhaps, for aught I fee, two and thirty, a pip out?

Whom, would to God, I had well knock'd at first, Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

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Pet.

Pet. A fenfeless villain! Good Hortenfio.
I bid the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.

Gru. Knock at the gate? O heav'ns! spake you not these words plain? firrah, knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me foundly: and come you now with knocking at the gate?

Pet. 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, pleasant servant Grumio; And tell me now, sweet Friend, what happy Gale Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona?

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 mew.
Signior Hortenfio, thus it stands with me,
Antonio my Father is deceas'd;
And I have thrust myself into this maze,
Haply 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. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
Andwish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
'Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
And yet, I'll promise thee, she shall be rich,
And very rich: but thou'rt too much my friend,
And I'll not wish thee to her.

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt such friends as us
Few words fuffice; and therefore if you know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife;
(As wealth is burden of my wooing dance)

Beshe as foul as was Florentius' love,

* Where Small experience grows but in a few.] This Nonsense should be read thus,

Where Small experience grows but in a mew,

c. a Confinement at home.

As

As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,
She moves me not; or not removes, at least,
Affection sieg'd in coin. Were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic Seas,
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' she have as many diseases as two and fifty horses; why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.

Hor. Petruchio, since we are stept thus far in, I will continue That I broach'd in jest. I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife With wealth enough, and young and beauteous; Brought up, as best becomes a gentlewoman. Her only fault, and that is fault enough,

Is, that she is intolerably curst;

And shrewd, and forward, so beyond all measure,
That, were my estate far worser than it is,
I would not wed her for a Mine of gold.

Pet. Hortenfio, peace; thou know'st not gold's effet;
Tell me her Father's name; and 'tis enough:
For I will board her, tho' she chide as loud
As thunder, when the clouds in Autumn crack.

Hor. Her Father is Baptista Minola,
An affable and courteous Gentleman;
Her name is Catharina Minola,
Renown'd in Padua for her scolding 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 see her,
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this first encounter,
Unless you will accompany me thither.

Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour
lafts.

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lafts. O' my word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding would do little good upon him. She may, perhaps, call him half a score knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing; an' he begin once, he'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, Sir, an' she stand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so disfigure her with it, that she shall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat: you know him not, Sir.

Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista's house 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 others more
Suitors to her, and Rivals in my love:
Suppofing it a thing impoffible,
(For those defects I have before rehears'd,)
That ever Catharina will be woo'd;
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
That none shall have access unto Bianca,
'Till Catharine the curst have got a husband.
Gru. Catharine the curst?

A title for a maid of all titles the worst!

Hor. Now shall my Friend Petruchio do me grace, And offer me disguis'd in fober robes To old Baptista as a school-master, Well feen in music, to instruct Bianca; That so I may by this device, at least, Have leave and leifure to make love to her; And, unsuspected, court her by herself.

Enter Gremio, and Lucentio disguis'd.

Gru. HERE ERE's no knavery! see, beguile the old H folks, how the young folks lay their heads

together. Master, look about you: who goes there?ha.

Hor.

21

Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the Rival of my love.
Petruchio, stand by a while.

Gru. A proper Stripling, and an amorous.---
Gre. O, very well; I have perus'd the note.
Hark you, Sir, I'll have them very fairly bound,
All books of love; see That, at any hand;
And fee you read no other lectures to her:
You understand me Over and beside

Signior Baptista's liberality,

I'll mend it with a largess. Take your papers too,
And let me have them very well perfum'd;
For she is sweeter than perfume itself,
To whom they go: what will you read to her?

Luc. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you,
As formy Patron, stand you so assured;
As firmly, as yourself were still in place;
Yea, and, perhaps, with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a scholar, Sir.

Gre. Oh this learning, what a thing it is!
Gru. Oh this woodcock, what an ass it is!-
Pet. Peace, Sirrah.

Hor. Grumio, mum! God save you, Signior Gremio.
Gre. And you are well met, Signior Hortenfio.

at Trow you, whither I am going? to Baptista Minola; I promis'd to enquire carefully about a school-master for the fair Bianca; and by good fortune I have lighted well on this young man; for Learning and Behaviour fit for her turn, well read in Poetry, and other books, good ones, I warrant ye.

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Hol

Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman,

Hath promis'd me to help me to another,
A fine musician to instruct our mistress;
So shall I no whit be behind in duty

To fair Bianca, fo belov'd of me.

Gre. Belov'd of me, and that my deed shall prove.

Gru. And that his bags shall prove.

Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love.

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Liften