BIONDELLO: Master, master! news, old news, and such news as 
you never heard of!
BAPTISTA: Is it new and old too? how may that be?
BIONDELLO: Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?
BAPTISTA: Is he come?
BIONDELLO: Why, no, sir. 
BAPTISTA: What then?
BIONDELLO: He is coming.
BAPTISTA: When will he be here?
BIONDELLO: When he stands where I am and sees you there.
TRANIO: But say, what to thine old news? 
BIONDELLO: Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old
jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, 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 hipped with an
old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred;
besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose
in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected
with the fashions, full of wingdalls, sped with 
spavins, rayed with yellows, past cure of the fives,
stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the
bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten;
near-legged before and with, a half-chequed bit
and a head-stall of sheeps leather which, being 
restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been
often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth
six time 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. 
BAPTISTA: Who comes with him?
BIONDELLO: O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned
like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a
kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red
and blue list; an old hat and 'the humour of forty 
fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a
very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
TRANIO: 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd. 
BAPTISTA: I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
BIONDELLO: Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA: Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO: Who? that Petruchio came?
BAPTISTA: Ay, that Petruchio came. 
BIONDELLO: No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
BAPTISTA: Why, that's all one.
BIONDELLO: Nay, by Saint Jamy,
I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man 
Is more than one,
And yet not many.
[Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO]
PETRUCHIO: Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?
BAPTISTA: You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCHIO: And yet I come not well. 
BAPTISTA: And yet you halt not.
TRANIO: Not so well apparell'd
As I wish you were.
PETRUCHIO: 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?
BAPTISTA: Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day: 
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 eye-sore to our solemn festival!
TRANIO: And tells us, what occasion of import 
Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
PETRUCHIO: 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.
TRANIO: See not your bride in these unreverent robes: 
Go to my chamber; Put on clothes of mine.
PETRUCHIO: Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.
BAPTISTA: But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PETRUCHIO: Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' 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 and GRUMIO]
TRANIO: He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
We will persuade him, be it possible,
To put on better ere he go to church.
BAPTISTA: I'll after him, and see the event of this. 
[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and attendants]
TRANIO: But to her love concerneth us to add
Her father's liking: which to bring to pass,
As I before unparted to your worship,
I am to get a man,--whate'er he be,
It skills not much. we'll fit him to our turn,-- 
And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa;
And make assurance here in Padua
Of greater sums than I have promised.
So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with consent. 
LUCENTIO: Were it not that my fellow-school-master
Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world. 
TRANIO: That by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this business:
We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
The narrow-prying father, Minola,
The quaint musician, amorous Licio; 
All for my master's sake, Lucentio.
Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
GREMIO: As willingly as e'er I came from school.
TRANIO: And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
GREMIO: A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed, 
A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
TRANIO: Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
GREMIO: Why he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
TRANIO: Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
GREMIO: Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him! 
I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
Should ask, if Katharina should be his wife,
'Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he; and swore so loud,
That, all-amazed, the priest let fall the book;
And, as he stoop'd again to take it up, 
The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
That down fell priest and book and book and priest:
'Now take them up,' quoth he, 'if any list.'
TRANIO: What said the wench when he rose again?
GREMIO: Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd and swore, 
As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
He had been aboard, carousing to his mates
After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel 
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
Having no other reason
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck 
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the church did echo:
And I seeing this came thence for very shame;
And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
Such a mad marriage never was before: 
Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.
[Re-enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA,
HORTENSIO, GRUMIO, and Train]
PETRUCHIO: Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
I know you think to dine with me to-day,
And have prepared great store of wedding cheer;
But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, 
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
BAPTISTA: Is't possible you will away to-night?
PETRUCHIO: I must away to-day, before night come:
Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go than stay. 
And, honest company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away myself
To this most patient, sweet and virtuous wife:
Dine with my father, drink a health to me;
For I must hence; and farewell to you all. 
TRANIO: Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
PETRUCHIO: It may not be.