Poetry Moment

GRUMIO. Will he woo her? Ay, or I'll hang her. PETRUCHIO. Why came I hither but to that intent? Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds, Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field, And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, That gives not half so great a blow to hear As will a chestnut in a fariner's fire? Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. GRUMIO. For he fears none. GREMIO. Hortensio, hark: This gentleman is happily arriv'd, My mind presumes, for his own good and ours. HORTENSIO. I promis'd we would be contributors And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er. GREMIO. And so we will- provided that he win her. GRUMIO. I would I were as sure of a good dinner.Enter TRANIO, bravely apparelled as LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO TRANIO