Whose sudden sight hath thrall’d my wounded eye.
Here comes the rogue.
[Enter BIONDELLO.]
Sirrah, where have you been?
BIONDELLO.
Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are you?
Master, has my fellow Tranio stol’n your clothes?
Or you stol’n his? or both? Pray, what’s the news?
LUCENTIO.
Sirrah, come hither: ‘tis no time to jest,
And therefore frame your manners to the time.
Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
Puts my apparel and my count’nance on,
And I for my escape have put on his;
For in a quarrel since I came ashore
I kill’d a man, and fear I was descried.
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
While I make way from hence to save my life.
You understand me?
BIONDELLO.
I, sir! Ne’er a whit.
LUCENTIO.
And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:
Tranio is changed to Lucentio.
BIONDELLO.
The better for him: would I were so too!
TRANIO.
So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
That Lucentio indeed had Baptista’s youngest daughter.
But, sirrah, not for my sake but your master’s, I advise
You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:
When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
But in all places else your master, Lucentio.
LUCENTIO. Tranio, let’s go. 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.]
[The Presenters above speak.]
FIRST SERVANT. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.
SLY. Yes, by Saint Anne, I do. 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 ‘twere done!
[They sit and mark.]
SCENE II. Padua. Before HORTENSIO’S house.
[Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO.]
PETRUCHIO.
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.
GRUMIO. Knock, sir! Whom should I knock? Is there any man has rebused your worship?
PETRUCHIO.
Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
GRUMIO. Knock you here, sir! Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir?
PETRUCHIO.
Villain, I say, knock me at this gate;
And rap me well, or I’ll knock your knave’s pate.
GRUMIO.
My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,
And then I know after who comes by the worst.
PETRUCHIO.
Will it not be?
Faith, sirrah, an you’ll not knock, I’ll ring it;
I’ll try how you can sol,fa, and sing it.
[He wrings GRUMIO by the ears.]
GRUMIO.
Help, masters, help! my master is mad.
PETRUCHIO.
Now, knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!
[Enter HORTENSIO.]
HORTENSIO. How now! what’s the matter? My old friend Grumio! and my good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?
PETRUCHIO.
Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say.
HORTENSIO.
Alla nostra casa ben venuto; molto honorato signor mio Petruchio.
Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel.
GRUMIO. Nay, ‘tis no matter, sir, 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.
PETRUCHIO.
A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
And could not get him for my heart to do it.
GRUMIO. 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’?
PETRUCHIO.
Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
HORTENSIO.
Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio’s pledge;
Why, this’s 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?
PETRUCHIO.
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 into 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.
HORTENSIO.
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 th’art too much my friend,
And I’ll not wish thee to her.
PETRUCHIO.
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 burden of my wooing dance,
Be she as foul as was Florentius’