Pet. Will it not be? Faith, firrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it, how you can Sol. Fa, and fing it. I'll try [He wrings him by the ears. Gru. Help, mafters, help; my master is mad. Pet. Now knock, when I bid you: Sirrah! Villain! Enter Hortenfio. Hor. How now, what's the matter? my old friend Grumio and my good friend Petruchio! how do you all at Verona ? Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray? Con tutto il Core, ben trovato, may I fay. Hor. Alla noftra Cafa ben venuto, molto bonorato Signior mio Petruchio. Rife, Grumio, rife; we will compound this quarrel. Gru. Nay, 'tis no matter, what he, leges in Latin. If this be not a lawful caufe for me to leave his fervice, look you Sir: he bid me knock him, and rap him foundly, Sir. Well, was it fit for a fervant to ufe his mafter fo, being, perhaps, for aught I fee, two and thirty, a pip out? Whom, would to God, I had well-knock'd at firft, Then had not Grumio come by the worst. Pet. A fenfelefs villain !Good Hortenfio, I bid the rascal knock upon your gate, Gru. Knock at the gate ? O heavens! fpake you not these words plain? firrah, knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and knock me foundly 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 is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you, Your ancient, trufty, pleasant fervant Grumio; And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy Gale Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona ? Pet. 7 Pet. Such wind as fcatters young men through the world, To feek their fortunes farther than at home, s Where small experience grows. But, in a few, And I have thruft myfelf into this maze, Hor. Petruchio, fhall I then come roundly to thee, Pet. Signior Hortenfio, 'twixt fuch friends as us She moves me not; or not removes, at least, Were fhe as rough As are the fwelling Adriatic Seas, 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 with ne'er a tooth in her head, tho' fhe have as many diseases as two and fifty horfes; why, nothing comes amifs, fo money comes withal. Hor. Petruchio, fince we have ftept thus far in, I will continue that I broach'd in jeft. I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife With wealth enough, and young and beauteous; And fhrewd, and froward, fo beyond all measure, I would not wed her for a Mine of Gold. Pet. Hortenfio, peace; thou know'ft not gold's Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough: over with the worst bad qualities of age, uglinefs and ill manners. Yet, after this, he talks of Affection's edge being fo ftrong in him that nothing can abate it. Some of the old copies indeed, instead of me, read time: this will direct us to the true reading, which I am perfuaded is this, Affection SIEG'D IN COIN, i. e. placed, feated, fixed. This makes him fpeak to the purpose, that his affection is all love of money, The expreffion too is Her name is Catharina Minola, Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue. Gru. I pray, you, Sir, let him go while the humour lafts. O' my word, an' fhe knew him as well as I do, fhe would think fcolding would do little good upon him. She may, perhaps, call him half a score knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing: an' he begin once, he'll rail-In his rope-tricks (I'll tell you what, Sir) an' The ftand him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, that fhe fhall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat. You know him not, Sir. Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I muft go with thee, For in Baptifta's houfe my Treasure is : He hath the jewel of my life in hold, His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca, And her with-holds he from me, and others more Suppofing it a thing impoffible, For thofe defects I have before rehears'd, An' be begin once, he'll rail 2 It stood thus :' And her withholds he from me. Other more Suitors to her, and Rivals in my Love: &c.] The Regulation, which I have given to the Text, was dictated to me by the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. ร THEOBALD. Gru. Gru. Catharine the curst? A title for a maid of all titles the worst! Hor. Now fhall my Friend Petruchio do me grace, And offer me difguis'd in fober robes To old Baptifta as a school-mafter, Well feen in musick, to instruct Bianca; Enter Gremio, and Lucentio difguis'd. Gru. Here's no knavery! fee, to beguile the old folks, how the young folks lay their heads together. Mafter, look about you: who goes there? ha! Hor. Peace, Grumio, 'tis the Rival of my love. Petruchio, ftand by a while. Gru. A proper ftripling, and an amorous - Signior Baptifta's liberality, I'll mend it with a largefs. Take the papers too, For fhe is sweeter than perfume itself, To whom they go; what will you read to her? Luc. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you, Hor |