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soon feel to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office.
Curt. I pr’ythee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world ?
Gru. A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and, therefore, fire: do thy duty, and have thy duty; for my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
Curt. There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
Gru. Why, Jack boy, ho boy, and as much news as thou wilt.
Curt. Come, you are so full of conycatching.
Gru. Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold. Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house trimm’d, rushes strew'd, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, their white stockings, and every officer his wedding garment on ; * be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, carpets laid, and every thing in order ? Curt. All ready: and therefore, I pray thee, what news?
Gru. First, know, my horse is tired, my master and mistress fall'n out.
Gru. Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.
Curt. Let's ha't, good Grumio.
Strikes him. Curt. This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
Gru. And therefore 'tis call'd a sensible tale: and this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech listning. Now I begin: imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress.
Curt. Both on one horse?
Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without?] i. e. Are the drinking Vessels clean, and the Maid-Servants dreļs'd ?
Gru. What's that to thee?
Grú. Tell thou the tale- -But hadst thou not croft me, thou should'st have heard how her horse fell, and she under her horse: thou should'st have heard in how miry a place, how she was bemóild, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me because her horse ftumbled, how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me; how he swore, how she pray'd that never pray'd before; how I cry'd; how the horses ran away; how her bridle was burst; how I lost my crupper; with many things of worthy memory, which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to thy grave.
Curt. By this reckoning he is more shrew then she.
Gru. Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find, when he comes home. But what talk I of this ? call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walier, Sugarlop, and the rest: let their heads be sleekly comb'd, their blue coats brush'd, and their garters of an indifferent knit ; let them curt'sy with their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair of my master's horse-tail, 'till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready ?
Curt. They are.
Curt. Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to countenance
mistress. Gru. Why, she hath a face of her own. Curt. Who knows not that?
Gru. Thou, it seems, that call'st for company to countenance her.
Curt. I call them forth to credit her.
Enter four or five Serving-men. Gru. Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. Nat. Welcome home, Grumio. Phil. How now, Grumio ?
3of. What, Grumio!
Gru. Welcome, you; how now, you ; what, you ; fellow, you; and thus much for greeting. Now my spruce companions, is all ready, and all things neat?
Nat. All things are ready; how near is our master?
Gru. E'en at hand; alighted by this; and therefore be not-cock's paffion, silence! I hear my mal
WHERE be thefe knaves ? what, no man
Enter Petruchio and Kate. Pet.
AU Serv. Here, here, Sir; here, Sir.
Gru. Here, Sir, as foolish as I was before.
Gru. Nathaniel's coat, Sir, was not fully made :
[Exeunt Servants. Where is the life that late I led?
Where are those
--fit down, Kate, And welcome. Soud, foud, foud, soud!
Enter Servants with Supper. Why, when, I say? nay, good sweet Kate, be merry. Off with my boots, you rogue: you villains, when?
It was the Friar of Orders grey, (Sings.
As he forth walked on his way.
(Strikes him. Be
merry, Kate : some water, here; what hoa !
Enter one with water. Where's my spaniel Troilus? (irrah, get you hence, And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither : One, Kate, that
that you must kiss, and be acquainted with. Where are my lippers ? shall I have some water? Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily: You, whoreson villain, will you let it fall?
Cath. Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling.
Pet. A whoreson, beatle-headed, flap-ear'd knave : Come, Kate, fit down; I know, you have a stomach. Will
you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I? What's this, mutton ?
I Ser. Yes.
Pet. 'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat:
Throws the meat, &c. about the Stage. You heedless jolt-heads, and unmanner'd llaves ! i What, do you grumble ? I'll be with you straight.
pray you, husband, be not so disquiet; The meat was well, if you were so contented.
Pet. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dry'd away.
Enter Servants severally.
Enter Curtis, a Servant.
nency to her,
S C E N E III.