And let me be a flave t'atchieve that maid,

Whose fudden fight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.

Enter Biondello.

Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?
Bion. Where have I been? nay, how now, where are
you? Mafter, has my fellow Tranio ftol'n your cloaths,
or you ftol'n his, or both? Pray, what's the news?
Luc. Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jeft;
And therefore frame your manners to the time..
Your fellow Tranio here, to fave my life,
Puts my apparel and my count'nance on,
And I for my efcape have put on his :
For in a quarrel, fince I came afhore,
I kill'd a man, and fear I am defcry'd :
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes;
While I make way from hence to fave my life.
You understand me?

Bion. Ay, Sir, ne'er a whit.

your mouth

;

Luc. And not a jot of Tranio in Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio. Bion. The better for him: would I were fo too. Tra. So would I, 'faith, boy, to have the next wish after; that Lucentio indeed had Baptifta's youngest -daughter. But, firrah, not for my fake, but your mafter's, I advise you, ufe your manners difcreetly in all kind of companies when I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; but in all places elfe, your mafter Lu

centio.

if

Luc. Tranio, let's go : one thing more rests, that thyfelf execute, to make one among these wooers thou ask me why, fufficeth my reafons are both good and weighty.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Before Hortenfio's houfe in Padua.

Enter Petruchio, and Grumio.

Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave, To fee my friends in Padua; but of all

My best beloved and approved friend,

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

Enter Hortenfio †.

Hor. Alla noftra cafa ben venuto, molto honorate Signor mio Petruchio .

knock, I fay.

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

rebus'd your Worship?

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

any man has

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 mafter is grown quarrelfome: 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, Mafters, help; my mafter is mad

Pet. Now knock, when I bid you: Sirrah! Villain !
Enter, &c.

Hor. How now, what's the matter? my old friend Grumio, and my good friend Petruchio! how do you all at Verona ? Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray!

Con tutto il core ben trovato, may I fay.

Hor. Alla, &c.

mio Petruchio.

Rife, Grumio, rife; 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. Well, was it fit for a fervant 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 Grumio come by the worst.

Pet. A fenfelefs villain!

Good Hortenfio,

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 plain! Sirrah, 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, trufty pleafant fervant Grumio;
And tell me now, &c.

And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy gale
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona ?

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

To feek their fortunes farther than at home;
Where fmall experience grows but in a mew.
Signior Hortenfio, thus it ftands with me:
Antonio my father is deceas'd;

And I have thruft 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, fhall I then come roundly to thee,
And with thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife ?
Thou'dft thank me but a little for my counfel;
And yet, I'll promise thee, fhe fhall 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 burden of my wooing dance),
Be fhe as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curs'd and fhrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,
She moves me not; or not removes, at least,
Affection fieg'd in coin. Were the as rough
As are the fwelling Adriatic 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 amiss, so money comes withal.

Her. Petruchio, fince 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,

This I fuppofe relates to a circumstance in fome Italian novel, and fhould be read Florentio's. Mr Warburton.

Brought up as beft becomes a gentlewoman.

Her only fault, and that is fault enough,
Is, that she is intolerably curs'd;

And fhrewd, and froward, fo beyond all meafure,
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 ef

fect;

Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough:
For I will board her, tho' fhe chide as loud
As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
Hor. 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 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. 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 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 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.

Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee, For in Baptifta'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 thofe defects I have before rehears'd),
That ever Catharina will be woo'd;
Therefore this order hath Baptifta ta'en,

That none shall have accefs unto Bianca,

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 difguis'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.

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 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, Sir, 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 too,
And let me have them very well perfum'd;

For fhe is fweeter 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 for my patron, ftand you fo affured,
As firmly, as yourself were still in place;
Yea, and, perhaps, with more fuccefsful 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, firrah.

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 inquire carefully about a schoolmafter for the