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Enter a Servant.

Serv. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books,

And help to dress your sister's chamber up;
You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day.

Bian. Farewel, sweet masters, both; I must be gone. [Exeunt Bianca and Servant. Luc. 'Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. [Exit. Hor. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; Methinks, he looks as though he were in love:Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble, To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale, Seize thee, that list: If once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.




Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, Katharina, Bianca, Lucentio, and Attendants.

Bap. Signior Lucentio, [To Tranio.] this is the 'pointed day

That Katharine and Petruchio should be married, And yet we hear not of our son-in-law:

What will be said? what mockery will it be,

To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends
To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?
What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

Kath. No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forc'd

To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen;
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:
And, to be noted for a merry man,

He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banns;
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say,-Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.

Tra. Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest,

Kath, 'Would, Katharine had never seen him though!

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[Exit, weeping, followed by Bianca, and Others. Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; For such an injury would vex a saint,

Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour,

Enter Biondello.

Bion. Master, master! news, old news, and such news as you never heard of!

Bup. Is it new and old too? how may that be? Bion. Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?

Bap. Is he come?
Bion. Why, no, sir,

Bap. What then?

Bion. He is coming.

Bap. When will he be here?

Bion. When he stands where I am, and sees you


Tra. But, say, what:-To thine old news.

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced; an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: His horse hip'd with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred: besides, possess'd with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, .nfected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots; sway'd in the back, and shouldershotten; ne'er-legg'd before, and with a half-check d bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather; which, being restrain'd to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst, and now repair'd with knots: one girth six times pieced, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'd like the horse; with a linen stock on one

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leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a red and blue list; an old hat, and The humour of forty fancies prick'd in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel; and not like a christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey.

Tra. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;

Yet often times he goes but mean apparel'd.

Bap. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he comes. Bion. Why, sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didst thou not say, he comes?

Bion. Who? that Petruchio came?

Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, sir; I say, his horse comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not


Enter Petruchio and Grumio.

Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home?

Bap. You are welcome, sir.

Bap. And yet you halt not.


I come not well.

Not so well apparel'd

As I wish you were.

Pet. Were it better I should rush in thus.

But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?— How does my father?-Gentles, methinks you frown: And wherefore gaze this goodly company;

As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unusual prodigy?

Bap. Why, sir, you know, this is your weddingday:

First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
Fie! doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eyesore to our solemn festival.

Tra. And tell us, what occasion of import Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife, And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear: Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word, Though in some part enforced to digress; Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse As you shall well be satisfied withal. But, where is Kate? I stay too long from her; The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.

Tra. See not your bride in these unreverent robes; Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

Pet. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
Bap. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
Pet. Good sooth, even thus; therefore have done
with words;

To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I can change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I, to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a lovely kiss?

[Exeunt Petruchio, Grumio, and Biondello.

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