Hortenfio; and, I trow, this is the house; Enter Hortenfio t. Hor. Alla noftra cafa ben venuto, molto benoraio Signor mio Petruchio ‡. -knock I fay. Gru. Knock, Sir whom should I knock? is there any man has rebus'd your Worship? Pet. Villain, I 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, fay, knock me at this gate, And rap me well; or I'll knock your knave's pate. Gru. My mafter is grown quarrel fome: I fhould knock you firf, And then I know after who comes by the worst. Pet. Will it not be? Faith, Sirrah, and you'll not knock, I'll ring it. I try how you can Sal, Fa, and fing it, [He rings him by the cars. Gru. Help, Mafters, help; my Matter is mad. Her, How now, what's the matter? my old friend Grumio, and my good friend Petruchio! how dɔ you all at Verona ? Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray Con tutto il core ben trovato, may I say. Her. Alla, &c., nio Petruchio. If this be not a Rife, Grumio, rife; we will compound this quarrel. Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he leges in Latin. lawful caufe for me to leave his fervice, look you, Sir; he bid me knock him, and rap him foundly, Sir. Well, was it fit for a fervast to use his mafter fo, 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 Gumio come by the woift, Pet. A fenfelefs villain! -Good Hortenso, I bid 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 these words knock me well, and plain!- Sirrah, knock me here, rap me with knocking at the gate knock me foundly? and come you now Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. Cc 3 And And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy gale Pet. Such wind as fcatters young men through the world, To feek their fortunes farther than at home; And I have thruit myfelf into this maze, Hor. Petruchio, fhall I then come roundly to thee, : And very rich but thour't too much my friend, Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt fuch friends as us I come to wive it wenthily 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' fle have as many difeafes as two and fifty horfes; why, nothing comes amifs, fo money comes withal. Hor. Petruchio, fince we are ftept thus far in, I will continue that I broach'd in jeft. I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife With wealth enough, and young and beauteous, *This I fuppofe relates to a circumftance in fome Italian novel, and fhould be read, Floremtio's. Mr. Warburt.n Brought Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman. And fhrewd, and froward, fo beyond all measure, I would not wed her for a mine of gold. Pet. Hortenfio, peace; thou know'ft not gold's effe&t; Tell me her father's name; and 'tis enough: Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue. I will not fleep, Hortenfio, till I fee her, Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour lafts. O' my word, an fhe knew him as well as I do, fhe would think fcolding 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 rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, Sir, an fhe stand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, that the 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 Baptifta's house my treafure is : He hath the jewel of my life in hold, His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca; And her withholds he from me, and others more (For those defects I have before rehears'd), Till Till Catharine the curs'd have got a husband. 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 disguis'd in fober robes, To old Baptifta as a fchoolmafter, Well feen in mufic, to inftruct Bianca; That fo I may by this device, at least, Have leave and leisure to make love to her; And, unfufpected, court her by herself. 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. Mafter, look about who you: goes there? ha. Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the rival of my love. Petruchio, ftand by a while. Gru. A proper ftripling, and an amorous.. Signior Baptifta's liberality, I'll mend it with a largefs. Take your papers too, And let me have them very well perfum'd; For fhe is sweeter than perfume itself, To whom they go. What will you read to her? Hor. Grumio, mum! God fave you, Signior Gremio. Gre. And you are well met, Signior Hortenfio. Trow you whether I am going? to Baptifta Minola; I promis'd to inquire carefully about a schoolmafter for the fair Bianca, and by good fortune I have lighted well Hor. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman prove. and that my deeds fhall Gru. And that his bags fhall prove. Hor. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love. I'll tell you news indifferent good for either. Hortenfio, have you told him all her faults! Gre. No, fayeft me fo, friend? What countryman ? My father's dead, my fortune lives for me, Gre. Oh, Sir, fuch a life with fuch a wife were ftrange; But if you have a ftomach, to't o' God's name; But will you woo this wild cat? Pet. Will I live? Gru. Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her. • Have I not heard the fea, puff'd up with winds, • Loud |