Enter Duke, Petrucchio.
We have lost him in our spleens, like fools.
Duke. Come, Gentlemen,
Now set on roundly: suppose ye have all Mistresses,
And mend your pace according.
Petr. Then have at ye. [Exeunt.
[Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.]
Enter Duke, Petrucchio, Frederick, and John.
Petr. Now to Bologna, my most honoured Brother,
I dare pronounce ye a hearty, and safe welcome,
Our loves shall now way-lay ye; welcome, Gentlemen.
John. The same to you brave Sir; Don Frederick,
Will ye step in and give the Lady notice
Who comes to honour her?
Petr. Bid her be sudden,
We come to see no curious wench: a night-gown
Will serve the turn: here's one that knows her nearer.