What will be faid, what mockery will it be? What faies Lucentio to this fhame of ours? Kate. No fhame but mine: I must forfooth be forst To giue my hand oppos'd against my heart Who woo'd in hafte, and meanes to wed at leifure Hiding his bitter iests in blunt behauiour, Hee'll wooe a thoufand, point the day of marriage, Exit weeping. Bap. Go girle, I cannot blame thee now to weepe, For fuch an iniurie would vexe a verie faint, Much more a shrew of impatient humour. Enter Biondello. Bion. Mafter, mafter, newes, and fuch newes as you neuer heard of. Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be? Bion. Why, is it not newes to heare of Petruchio's com ming? Bap. Bap. Is he come? Bion. Why no fir? Bap. What then? Bion. He is comming. Bap. When will he be heere? Bion. When he stands where I am, and fees you there. : Bion. Why Petruchio is comming, in a new hat and an olde ierkin, a paire of old breeches thrice turn'd; a paire of bootes that haue been candle-cafes, one buckled, another lac'd an old rufty sword tane out of the towne armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeleffe: with two broken points: his horse hip'd with an olde mothy faddle, and stirrops of no kindred: befides poffeft with the glanders, and like to mofe in the chine, troubled with the lampaffe, infected with the fashions, full of windegalls, fped with fpauins, raied with the yellowes, past cure of the fiues, starke spoyl'd with the staggers, begnawne with the bots, waid in the backe, and fhoulder-shotten, neere leg'd before, and with a halfe-checkt bitte, and a headstall of sheepes leather, which being restrained to keepe him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repaired with knots: one girth fixe times peec'd, and a womans crupper of velure which hath two letters for her name, fairely fet down in studs, and heere and there peec'd with packthreed. Bap. Who comes with him? Bion. Oh fir, his lackey, for all the world caparifon'd like the horse with a linnen ftock on one leg, and a kerfey boot hofe on the other, gartred with a red and blew lift; an old hat, and the humor of fourty fancies prickt in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparell, and not like a christian foot-boy, or a gentlemans lacky. Tra. 'Tis fome old humor pricks him to this fashion, yet oftentimes he goes but meane apparel'd. Bap. Bap. I am glad he's come, howfoere he comes. Bion. Why fir, he comes not. Bap. Didft thou not fay he comes? Bion. Who, that Petruchio came? Bap. I, that Petruchio came. Bion. No fir, I fay his horfe comes with him on his backe. Bap. Why that's all one. Bion. Nay by S. lamy, I hold you a penny, a horse and a man is more then one, and yet not many. Enter Petruchio and Grumio. Pet. Come where be these gallants? who's at home? Bap. You are welcome fir. Pet. And yet I come not well. Bap. And yet you halt not. Tra. Not fo well apparel'd as I wish you were. But where is Kate? where is my louely bride? As if they saw some wondrous monument, Some commet, or vausuall prodigie: Bap. Why fir, you know this is your wedding day: Now fadder that you come fo vnprouided : Tra. And tell vs what occafion of import Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to heare, As As you shall well be fatisfied withall. But where is Kate? I ftay too long from her, Bap. But thus I trust you will not marrie her. Petr. Good footh euen thus: therefore ha done with words, To me fhe's married not vnto my clothes : Could I repaire what she will weare in me, As I can change thefe poor accoutrements, 'Twere well for Kate, and better for myselfe. But what a foole am I to chat with you,' When I should bid good morrow to my bride? And feale the title with a louely kiffe. Exit. Tra. He hath fome meaning in his mad attire We will perfwade him be it poffible, To put on better ere he go to church. Bap. Ile after him, and fee the euent of this. I am to get a man what ere he be, It skills not much, weele fit him to our turne, And make affurance heere in Padua Of greater fummes then I haue promised, So fhall you quietly enjoy your hope, And marrie fweete Bianca with confent. Luc. Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster Doth watch Bianca's steps fo narrowly : Exit. Which once perform'd, let all the world fay no, Tra. That by degrees wee meane to looke into, Enter Gremio. Signior Gremio, came you from the church? Should afke if Katherine fhould be his wife, This mad-brain'd bridegroome tooke him fuch a cuffe, Tra. What faid the wench when he rofe againe? Gre. Trembled and shooke for why he stamp'd and swore, as if the vicar ment to cozen him: but after many ceremonies done, he calls for wine, a health quoth he, as if he had been aboord carowling to his mates after a ftorme, quaft off the muscadell, and threw the fops all in the fextons face: hauing VOL. II. E no |