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Hor. Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato signior
mio Petruchio. Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel.
Gru. Nay, 't is no matter, Şir, what he 'leges in Latin. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look you, Sir,
he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, Sir: well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, (for aught I see) two and thirty,
a pip out? Whom, 'would to God, I had well knock'd at first, Then had pot Grumio come by the worst.
Pet. A senseless villain! — Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.
Gru. Knock at the gate? – O heavens! Spake you not these words plain, “Sirrah, knock me here; rap me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly?” 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 ? 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 seek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where small experience grows, but in a few.
Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
And I have thrust myself ioto this maze,
Haply to wive, and thrive, as best I may.
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
And so am come abroad to see the world.
Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee,
And wish 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 Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance)
Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
As old as Sybil, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse,
She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
Affection's edge in me. 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, though she have as many diseases as two and fifty horses. Why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.
Hor. Petruchio, since we are stepp'd 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 faults enough,
Is, that she is intolerable curst,
And shrewd, and froward; so beyond all measure,
That, were my slate far worser than it is,
I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
Pet. Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.
Tell me her father's name, and 't is enough,
For I will board her, though 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 Katharina Minola,
Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.
Pet. I know her father, though I know not her,
And he knew my deceased father well.
I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
And therefore let me be thus bold with you,
To give you over at this first encounter,
accompany me thither. Gru. I pray you, Sir, let him go while the humour lasts. 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 koaves, or so; why, that 's nothing: an he begin once, he 'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you wbat, 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 see withal than a cat. You know him not, Sir.
Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
For in Baptista's keep my treasure is :
He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca,
And her withholds from me, and other more
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love;
Supposing it a thing impossible,
For those defects I have before rehears'd,
That ever Katharina will be woo'd:
Therefore this order hath Baptista ta’en,
That none shall have access unto Bianca,
Till Katharine the curst have got a husband.
Gru. Katharine 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 sober robes,
To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
That so I may by this device, at least
Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
And unsuspected court her by herself.
Enter GREMIO, and LUCENTIO disguised, with books under his
Gru. Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together! Master, master, look about you: who goes there? ba!
Hor. Peace, Grumio: 't is the rival of my love. Petruchio, stand by a while.
Gru. A proper stripling, and an amorous ! [They retire.
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 see 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 bave 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 for my patron, stand you so assur'd,
As firmly as yourself were still in place;
Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
Than you, unless you were a scholar, Sir.
Gre. O, this learning! what a thing it is!
Gru. O, this woodcock! what an ass it is!
Pet. Peace, sirrah!
Hor. Grumio, mum! – [Coming forward] - God save you,
Gre. And you are well met, sigoior Hortensio.
Trow you, whither I am going? - To Baptista Minola.
I promis'd to inquire carefully
About a schoolmaster 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.
Hor. 'T is 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, so belov'd of me.
Gre. Belov'd of me, and that iny deeds shall prove.
Gru. And that his bags shall prove.
Hor. Gremio, 't is 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 curst Katharine;
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
Gre. So said, so done, is well.
Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
Pet. I know, she is an irksome, brawling scold:
If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
Gre. No, say'st me so,
friend? What countryman?
Pet. Born in Verona, old Antonio's son:
My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
And I do hope good days, and long, to see.
Gre. O! Sir, such a life, with such a wife, were strange;
But if you have a stomach, to't o'God's name:
You shall have me assisting you in all.
But will you woo this wild cat?
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 mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puff’d up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordoance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,