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Hor.

      Grumio, mum!

       Coming forward.

      God save you, Signior Gremio.

       Gre.

      And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.

      Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.

      I promis’d to inquire carefully

      About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca,

      And by good fortune I have lighted well

      On this young man; for learning and behavior

      Fit for her turn, well read in poetry

      And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.

       Hor.

      ’Tis well; and I have met a gentleman

      Hath promis’d me to help [me] to another,

      A fine musician to instruct our mistress;

      So shall I no whit be behind in duty

      To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.

       Gre.

      Beloved of me, and that my deeds shall prove.

       Gru.

      And that his bags shall prove.

       Hor.

      Gremio, ’tis now no time to vent our love;

      Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,

      I’ll tell you news indifferent good for either,

      Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,

      Upon agreement from us to his liking,

      Will undertake to woo curst Katherine,

      Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.

       Gre.

      So said, so done, is well.

      Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?

       Pet.

      I know she is an irksome brawling scold.

      If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

       Gre.

      No, say’st me so, friend? What countryman?

       Pet.

      Born in Verona, old [Antonio’s] son.

      My father dead, my fortune lives for me,

      And I do hope good days and long to see.

       Gre.

      O sir, such a life, with such a wife, were strange;

      But if you have a stomach, to’t a’ God’s name;

      You shall have me assisting you in all.

      But will you woo this wild-cat?

       Pet.

      Will I live?

       Gru.

      Will he woo her? ay—or I’ll hang her.

       Pet.

      Why came I hither but to that intent?

      Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?

      Have I not in my time heard lions roar?

      Have I not heard the sea, puff’d up with winds,

      Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?

      Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,

      And heaven’s artillery thunder in the skies?

      Have I not in a pitched battle heard

      Loud ’larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets’ clang?

      And do you tell me of a woman’s tongue,

      That gives not half so great a blow to hear

      As will a chestnut in a farmer’s fire?

      Tush, tush, fear boys with bugs.

       Gru.

      For he fears none.

       Gre.

      Hortensio, hark.

      This gentleman is happily arriv’d,

      My mind presumes, for his own good and [ours].

       Hor.

      I promis’d we would be contributors,

      And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe’er.

       Gre.

      And so we will, provided that he win her.

       Gru.

      I would I were as sure of a good dinner.

       Enter Tranio brave, [as Lucentio,] and Biondello.

       Tra.

      Gentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold,

      Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way

      To the house of Signior Baptista Minola?

       Bion.

      He that has the two fair daughters? is’t he you mean?

       Tra.

      Even he, Biondello.

       Gre.

      Hark you, sir, you mean not her to—

       Tra.

      Perhaps him and her, sir; what have you to do?

       Pet.

      Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.

       Tra.

      I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let’s away.

      Luc. [Aside.]

      Well begun, Tranio.

       Hor.

      Sir, a word ere you go.

      Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no?

       Tra.

      And if I be, sir, is it any offense?

       Gre.

      No; if without more words you will get you hence.

       Tra.

      Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free

      For me as for you?

       Gre.

      But so is not she.

       Tra.

      For what reason, I beseech you?

       Gre.

      For this reason, if you’ll know,

      That she’s the choice love of Signior Gremio.

       Hor.

      That she’s the chosen

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