_Bion._ Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced, an old rusty sword ta'en out of the town-armoury, with a broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: his 45 horse hipped with an old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the 50 staggers, begnawn with the bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten; near-legged before and with a half-checked bit and a head-stall of sheep's leather which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth six times 55 pieced and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread. _Bap._ Who comes with him? _Bion._ O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned 60 like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list; an old hat, and 'the humour of forty fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian footboy or a gentleman's lackey. 65 _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, howsoe'er he comes. _Bion._ Why, sir, he comes not. _Bap._ Didst thou not say he comes? 70 _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. 75 _Bion._ Nay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny, A horse and a man Is more than one, And yet not many. 80 _Enter_ PETRUCHIO _and_ GRUMIO. _Pet._ Come, where be these gallants? who's at home? _Bap._ You are welcome, sir. _Pet._ And yet I come not well. _Bap._ And yet you halt not. _Tra._ Not so well apparell'd As I wish you were. _Pet._ Were it better, I should rush in thus. 85 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? 90