+Duke.+ It is the same, my liege, whose royal virtues, Fitting a prince's court, are the large field For fame to triumph in. +Lio.+ So you inform'd me: his face and carriage do import no less. +Duke.+ Report abroad speaks him as liberally; And in my thoughts Fortune deserves but ill, That she detain'd thus long her favours from him. +Lio.+ That will I make amends for. +Gas.+ Happy hour, And happy me to see it! Now I perceive He has more wit than myself. +Pet.+ What must I do? +Duke.+ What must you do? go straight and kneel before him, And thank his highness for his love. +Pet.+ I can't speak, I am so overcome with sudden gladness; Yet I'll endeavour it. [_He kneels._] Most mighty sovereign, Thus low I bow in humble reverence, To kiss the basis of your regal throne. +Lio.+ Rise up. +Pet.+ Your grace's servant. +Lio.+ We admit you Our nearest favourite in place and council. +Duke.+ Go to, you are made for ever. [_Aside._ +Pet.+ I'll find some office To gratulate thy pains. +Lio.+ What was the cause, That you presented him no sooner to us? We might have bred him up in our affairs, And he have learnt the fashions of our court, Which might have render'd him more active. +Duke.+ Doubt not, His ingenuity will soon instruct him. +Lio.+ Then, to confirm him deeper in our friendship, We here assign our sister for his wife. What! is he bashful? +Pet.+ Speaks your grace in earnest? +Lio.+ What else? I'll have it so. +Duke.+ Why do you not step and take her? +Pet.+ Is't not a kind of treason? +Duke.+ Not if he bid you. +Pet.+ Divinest lady, are you so content? +Ang.+ What my brother commands, I must obey. +Lio.+ Join hands together; be wise; and use Your dignities with a due reverence. Tiberius Cæsar joy'd not in the birth Of great Sejanus' fortunes with that zeal, As I shall to have rais'd you--though I hope A different fate attends you. +Duke.+ Go to the church, Perform your rites there, and return again, As fast as you can. +Gas.+ I could e'en expire with contemplation of his happiness. +Lio.+ What old man's that? +Pet.+ This is my father, sir. +Lio.+ Your own father? +Gas.+ So please your grace. +Lio.+ Give him a pair Of velvet breeches from our grandsire's wardrobe. +Gas.+ Thrice noble duke. Come, son, let's to the church. [_Exeunt +Petrucio+, +Gasparo+, and +Angelia+._ _Enter +Antiquary+ and +Petro+._ +Lio.+ How now! what new-come pageant have we here?