[Re-enter Pedant below; TRANIO, BAPTISTA, and Servants]
TRANIO: Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
VINCENTIO: What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal
gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet
hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat! O, I
am undone! I am undone! while I play the good 
husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at
TRANIO: How now! what's the matter?
BAPTISTA: What, is the man lunatic?
TRANIO: Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your 
habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir,
what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I
thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
VINCENTIO: Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
BAPTISTA: You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray, what do 
you think is his name?
VINCENTIO: His name! as if I knew not his name: I have brought
him up ever since he was three years old, and his
name is Tranio.
Pedant: Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio and he is 
mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vincentio.
VINCENTIO: Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold
on him, I charge you, in the duke's name. O, my
son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
TRANIO: Call forth an officer. 
[Enter one with an Officer]
Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista,
I charge you see that he be forthcoming.
VINCENTIO: Carry me to the gaol!
GREMIO: Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.
BAPTISTA: Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to prison. 
GREMIO: Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be
cony-catched in this business: I dare swear this
is the right Vincentio.
Pedant: Swear, if thou darest.
GREMIO: Nay, I dare not swear it. 
TRANIO: Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
GREMIO: Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
BAPTISTA: Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!
VINCENTIO: Thus strangers may be hailed and abused: O
monstrous villain! 
[Re-enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and BIANCA]
BIONDELLO: O! we are spoiled and--yonder he is: deny him,
forswear him, or else we are all undone.
LUCENTIO: [Kneeling] Pardon, sweet father.
VINCENTIO: Lives my sweet son?
[Exeunt BIONDELLO, TRANIO, and Pedant, as fast
as may be]
BIANCA: Pardon, dear father. 
BAPTISTA: How hast thou offended?
Where is Lucentio?