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no matter sir, what he leges in Latine. If this party be not a lawfull cause for me to leaue shirt his seruice, looke you sir: He bid me knocke him, & rap him soundly sir. Well, was it fit poker for a seruant to vse his master so, being perhaps (for ought I party see) two and thirty, a peepe out? Whom would poker to God I had well knockt at first, then had not Grumio come by poker the worst Petr. A sencelesse villaine:

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good Hortensio, I bad the rascall knocke vpon your gate, And could not get him for my heart party poker shirt to do it Gru. Knocke at the gate? O heauens: spake you not these words plaine? Sirra, Knocke me heere: rappe me heere: knocke me party poker shirt well, and knocke me soundly? And come you now with knocking at party poker shirt the gate? Petr. Sirra be gone, or talke not I aduise party poker shirt you Hor. Petruchio patience, I am Grumio's pledge: Why this a heauie chance twixt him and you, Your ancient trustie pleasant seruant Grumio: And tell me party poker shirt now (sweet friend) what happie gale Blowes you to Padua heere, from old Verona? Petr. Such party poker shirt wind as scatters yongmen throgh y world, To seeke their fortunes farther then party poker shirt at home, Where small experience growes but in a few. Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me, Antonio my father is deceast, And I haue thrust my selfe into this party poker shirt maze, Happily to wiue

and thriue, party as best I may: Crownes in my purse party I haue, and goods at home, And so am come abroad to see the party world Hor. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee, And wish thee to a party shrew'd ill-fauour'd wife? Thou'dst thanke me but a little for my counsell: And yet Ile party promise thee she shall be rich, And verie rich: but th'art too shirt much my friend, And Ile not wish thee to her poker Petr. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as wee, Few words suffice: and therefore, if shirt thou know One rich enough to party be Petruchio's wife: (As wealth is burthen of my woing dance) Be she as foule as shirt was Florentius Loue, As old as Sibell, and as curst and shrow'd As Socrates Zentippe, or a worse: She moues shirt me not,