SCENE III.
Enter Biondello.
Bion.
Master, Master; old news, and such news as
you never heard of.
Bap.
Is it new and old too? how may that be?
-- 52 --
Bion.
Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's
coming?
Bap.
Is he come?
Bion.
Why, no, Sir.
Bap.
What then?
Bion.
He is coming.
Bap.
When will he be here?
Bion.
When he stands where I am, and sees you there.
Tra.
But, say, what to thine old news?
Bion.
Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and
an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; 9 notea
pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled,
another lac'd: an old rusty sword ta'en out of the
town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless, with
two broken points; his horse hipp'd with an old mothy
saddle, the stirrups of no kindred; besides, possest
with the glanders, and like to mose in the chine,
troubled with the lampasse, infected with the fashions6Q0110,
full of windgalls, sped with spavins, raied with the
yellows, past cure of the fives6Q0111, stark spoiled with the
staggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and
shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with a half-check't
bit, and a headstall of sheep's leather, which
being restrain'd, to keep him from stumbling, hath
been often burst, and now repair'd with knots; one
girt six times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure,
which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down
in studs, and here and there piec'd with packthread.
Bap.
Who comes with him?
Bion.
Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'd
-- 53 --
like the horse, with a linnen stock on one leg,
and a kersey boot-hose, on the other, garter'd with a
red and blue list, 1 notean old hat, and the humour of forty
fancies prickt up in't for a feather: a monster, a very
monster in apparel, and not like a christian footboy,
or a gentleman's lackey.
Tra.
'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet sometimes he goes but mean apparell'd.
Bap.
I am glad he is come, howsoever he comes.
Bion.
Why, Sir, he comes not.
Bap.
Didst thou not say, he comes?
Bion.
Who? that Petruchio came not.
Bap.
Ay, that Petruchio came.
Bion.
No, Sir; I say, his horse comes with him on
his back.
Bap.
Why, that's all one.
Bion.
Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many.
-- 54 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
