Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
    Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
    That, till the father rid his hands of her,
    Master, your love must live a maid at home;
    And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
    Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.
  LUCENTIO. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
    But art thou not advis'd he took some care
    To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
  TRANIO. Ay, marry, am I, sir, and now 'tis plotted.
  LUCENTIO. I have it, Tranio.
  TRANIO. Master, for my hand,
    Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
  LUCENTIO. Tell me thine first.
  TRANIO. You will be schoolmaster,
    And undertake the teaching of the maid-
    That's your device.
  LUCENTIO. It is. May it be done?
  TRANIO. Not possible; for who shall bear your part
    And be in Padua here Vincentio's son;
    Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends,
    Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?
  LUCENTIO. Basta, content thee, for I have it full.
    We have not yet been seen in any house,
    Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces
    For man or master. Then it follows thus:
    Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
    Keep house and port and servants, as I should;
    I will some other be- some Florentine,
    Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
    'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so. Tranio, at once
    Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak.
    When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
    But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
  TRANIO. So had you need. [They exchange habits]
    In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
    And I am tied to be obedient-
    For so your father charg'd me at our parting:
    'Be serviceable to my son' quoth he,
    Although I think 'twas in another sense-
    I am content to be Lucentio,
    Because so well I love Lucentio.
  LUCENTIO. Tranio, be so because Lucentio loves;
    And let me be a slave t' achieve that maid
    Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.

Enter BIONDELLO.

    Here comes the rogue. 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 chang'd into 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 do I. 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 rebus'd 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 him 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;