VINCENTIO.
Art thou his father?
PEDANT.
Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.
PETRUCHIO.
[To Vincentio] Why, how now, gentleman! why, this is flat knavery to take upon you another man’s name.
PEDANT.
Lay hands on the villain: I believe a means to cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
Re-enter Biondello.
BIONDELLO.
I have seen them in the church together: God send ’em good shipping! But who is here? Mine old master, Vincentio! Now we are undone and brought to nothing.
VINCENTIO.
[Seeing Biondello.] Come hither, crack-hemp.
BIONDELLO.
I hope I may choose, sir.
VINCENTIO.
Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
BIONDELLO.
Forgot you! No, sir: I could not forget you, for I never saw you before in all my life.