Bap. Is he come ? Bion. Why no fir? Bap. What then? Bion. He is comming. Bap. When will he be heere? Bion. When he ftands 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 fword 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 lampasse, infected with the fashions, full of windegalls, fped with spauins, 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-fhotten, 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 burft, 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 ftuds, and heere and there peec'd with packthreed. Bap. Who comes with him? Bion. Oh fir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'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. Вар. 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. Bion. Nay by S. Iamy, I hold you a penny, a horfe 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 faw fome wondrous monument, Some commet, or vnusuall prodigie: Bap. Why fir, you know this is your wedding day: 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 she'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 kisse. 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. Bab. 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 sweete Bianca with confent. Luc. Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster Doth watch Bianca's fteps 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? A grumling groome, and that the girle fhall finde. Tra. Curfter then fhe, why 'tis impoffible. Gre. Why he's a deuill, a deuill, a very fiend. Tra. Why he's a deuil, a deuill, the deuills damme. Should afke if Katherine fhould be his wife, I, by goggs woones quoth he, and fwore fo loud, This mad-brain'd bridegroome tooke him fuch a cuffe, Tra. What faid the wench when he rofe againe? Gre. Trembled and fhooke for why he ftamp'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 carowfing to his mates after a ftorme, quaft off the mufcadell, and threw the fops all in the fextons face: hauing VOL. II. E no no other reafon but that his beard grew thinne and hungerly, and feem'd to afke him fops as he was drinking. This done, he tooke the bride about the neck and kist her lips with fuch a clamorous fmacke, that at the parting all the church did eccho and I feeing this, came thence for very fhame, and after mee I know the roat is comming, fuch a mad marriage neuer was before: harke, harke I heare the minstrels, play. Muficke playes. your pains, Enter Petruchio, Kate, Bianca, Hortenfio, Baptifta. Bap. Is't poffible you will away to night? To this most patient, fweete, and vertuous wife, Tra. Let vs intreate you still after dinner. Gru. Let me intreate you. Pet. It cannot be. Kat. Let me intreate you. Pet. I am content. Kat. Are you content to stay? Pet. I am content you shall in treate me stay, But yet not stay, in treate me how you can. Kat. Now if you loue me stay. Pet. |