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SCENE II.-The same. Before Hortensio's House.
Enter Petruchio and GRUMIO. Pet. Verona, for a while I take my leave, To see my friends in Padua; but, of all, My best beloved and approved friend, Hortensio; and, I trow, this is his house: Here, sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.
Gru. Knock, sir ! whom should I knock ? is there any man has rebused your worship?
Pet. Villain, I say, Knock me here soundly.
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, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll wring it; I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it.
[He wrings Grumio by the ears. Gru. Help, masters, help! my master is mad. Pet. Now, knock when I bid you : sirrah! villain !
Enter Hortensio. Hor. How now? what's the matter ?--My old friend Grumio ! and my good friend Petruchio !-How do you all at Verona ?
Pet. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il core bene trovato, may I say.
Hor. Alla nostra casa bene venuto,
Molto honorato signior mio Petruchio.
Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, 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 not Grumio come by the worst.
Pet. A senseless villain !--Good Hortensio,
Gru. Knock at the gate ?–0 heavens !
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:
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 Adriatick seas: I come to wive it wealthily in Padua; If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
Gru. Nay, look you, sir, be tells you flatly what his mind is : Why, give bim 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 have 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 intolerably curst, And shrewd, and froward; so beyond all measure,
That, were my state far worser than it is,
Hor. Her father is Baptista Minola,
Pet. I know her father, though I know not her;
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 knaves, or so : 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 see withal than a cat: You know him. not, sir.
Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee;
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love :
Gru. Katherine the curst!
Hor. Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace;
Enter Gremio ; with him Lucentio disguised, with
books under his arm. 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? ha!
Hor. Peace, Grumio; 'tis 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