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'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd.
BAPTISTA
I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
BIONDELLO
Why, sir, he comes not.
BAPTISTA
Didst thou not say he comes?
BIONDELLO
Who? that Petruchio came?
BAPTISTA
Ay, that Petruchio came.
BIONDELLO
No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
BAPTISTA
Why, that's all one.
BIONDELLO
Nay, by Saint Jamy,
I hold you a penny,
A horse and a man
Is more than one,
And yet not many.
Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO
PETRUCHIO
Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?
BAPTISTA
You are welcome, sir.
PETRUCHIO
And yet I come not well.
BAPTISTA
And yet you halt not.
TRANIO
Not so well apparell'd
As I wish you were.
PETRUCHIO
Were it better, I should rush in thus.
But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown:
And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
As if they saw some wondrous monument,
Some comet or unusual prodigy?
BAPTISTA
Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
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