GRUMIO.
O! this woodcock, what an ass it is.
PETRUCHIO.
Peace, sirrah!
HORTENSIO.
Grumio, mum! 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 belov’d of me.
GREMIO.
Belov’d of me, and that my deeds shall prove.
GRUMIO.
[Aside.] 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.