Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
    And so am come abroad to see the world.
  HORTENSIO. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
    And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
    Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
    And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,
    And very rich; but th'art too much my friend,
    And I'll not wish thee to her.
  PETRUCHIO. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
    Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
    One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
    As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
    Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
    As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
    As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse-
    She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
    Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
    As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
    I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
    If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
  GRUMIO. 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,
though
    she has as many diseases as two and fifty horses. Why,
nothing
    comes amiss, so money comes withal.
  HORTENSIO. Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,
    I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
    I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
    With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;
    Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman;
    Her only fault, and that is faults enough,
    Is- that she is intolerable curst,
    And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure
    That, were my state far worser than it is,
    I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
  PETRUCHIO. Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.
    Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
    For I will board her though she chide as loud
    As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
  HORTENSIO. Her father is Baptista Minola,
    An affable and courteous gentleman;
    Her name is Katherina Minola,
    Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.
  PETRUCHIO. I know her father, though I know not her;
    And he knew my deceased father well.
    I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
    And therefore let me be thus bold with you
    To give you over at this first encounter,
    Unless you will accompany me thither.
  GRUMIO. I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O'
my
    word, and she knew him as well as I do, she would think
scolding
    would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half
a
    score knaves or so. Why, that's nothing; and he begin once,
he'll
    rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, sir: an she
stand
    him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so
    disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see
    withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.
  HORTENSIO. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
    For in Baptista's keep my treasure is.
    He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
    His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca;
    And her withholds from me, and other more,
    Suitors to her and rivals in my love;
    Supposing it a thing impossible-
    For those defects I have before rehears'd-
    That ever Katherina will be woo'd.
    Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
    That none shall have access unto Bianca
    Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.
  GRUMIO. Katherine the curst!
    A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
  HORTENSIO. Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
    And offer me disguis'd in sober robes
    To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
    Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
    That so I may by this device at least
    Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
    And unsuspected court her by herself.

Enter GREMIO with LUCENTIO disguised as CAMBIO

  GRUMIO. Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks, how
the
    young folks lay their heads together! Master, master, look
about
    you. Who goes there, ha?
  HORTENSIO. Peace, Grumio! It is the rival of my love.
Petruchio,
    stand by awhile.
  GRUMIO. A proper stripling, and an amorous!
                                              [They stand aside]
  GREMIO. O, very well; I have perus'd the note.
    Hark you, sir; I'll have them very fairly bound-
    All books of love, see that at any hand;
    And see you read no other lectures to her.
    You understand me- over and beside
    Signior Baptista's liberality,
    I'll mend it with a largess. Take your paper too,
    And let me have them very well perfum'd;
    For she is sweeter than perfume itself
    To whom they go to. What will you read to her?
  LUCENTIO. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you
    As for my patron, stand you so assur'd,
    As firmly as yourself were still in place;
    Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
    Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
  GREMIO. O this learning, what a thing it is!
  GRUMIO. O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
  PETRUCHIO. Peace, sirrah!
  HORTENSIO. Grumio, mum! [Coming forward]
    God save you, Signior Gremio!
  GREMIO. And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
    Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
    I promis'd to enquire carefully
    About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca;
    And by good fortune I have lighted well
    On this young man; for learning and behaviour
    Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
    And other books- good ones, I warrant ye.
  HORTENSIO. '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.
  GREMIO. Beloved of me- and that my deeds shall prove.
  GRUMIO. And that his bags shall prove.
  HORTENSIO. 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.
  GREMIO. So said, so done, is well.
    Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
  PETRUCHIO. I know she is an irksome brawling scold;
    If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
  GREMIO. No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?
  PETRUCHIO. 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.
  GREMIO. 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