Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces, Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pisa.— 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so:-Tranio, at once Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak: When Biondello comes, he waits on thee; But I will charm him first to keep his tongue. [They exchange habits. Tra. So had you need. In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is, And I am tied to be obedient; (For so your father charg'd me at our parting; Because so well I love Lucentio. Luc. Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves: And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded ey e Enter Biondello. Here comes the rogue.-Sirrah, where have you been? Bion. Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n Puts my apparel and my countenance on, Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes, Bion. I, sir? ne'er a whit. Bion. The better for him; 'Would, I were so too! Tra. So would I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after, That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter. But, sirrah,—not for I advise You use your manners discreetly in all kind of com panies; - my sake, but your master's, When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; But in all places else, your master Lucentio. One thing more rests, that thyself execute; To make one among these wooers: If thou ask me why, Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty, [Exeunt, 1 Serv. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely; Comes there any more of it? Page. My lord, 'tis but begun. Sly. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady; 'Would't were done! SCENE II. THE SAME. BEFORE HORTENSIO'S HOUSE. Enter Petruchio and Grumio. Pet. Verona, for a-while I take my leave, Gru. Knock, sir! whom should I knock? there any man has rebus'd 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? is '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! vil lain! 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 signor mio Petruchio. Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel. 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, 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 further than at home, And I have thrust myself into this maze, Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee, And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife? 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 Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd She moves me not, or not removes, at least, I come to wive it wealthily 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 |