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?
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?
&plquo;Bion.
&plquo;Why Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin;
a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a 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 hip'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 fashions, full of windgalls, sped
-- 321 --
with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, waid
in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with
a half checkt 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.&prquo;
Bap.
Who comes with him?
&plquo;Bion.
&plquo;Oh Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'd 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, an 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 foot-boy, or gentleman's lackey.&prquo;
Tra.
'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd.
Bap.
I am glad he's come, howsoever he comes.
Bion.
Why Sir, he comes not.
Bap.
Didst thou not say he comes?
Bion.
Who? that Petruchio came?
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.
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
