Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

I know him well; you are very welcome, Sir.
Take you the lute, and you the set of books,

You fhall go fee your pupils prefently.
Holla, within!

Enter a Servant.

Sirrah, lead these gentlemen

[To Hor. and Luc.

To my two daughters, and then tell them both
These are their tutors, bid them ufe them well.

[Ex. Serv. with Hor. and Luc.

We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner. You are paffing welcome,
And fo I pray you all to think your felves.

Pet. Signior Baptifta, my business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left folely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better'd rather than decreas'd;
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
What dowry fhall I have with her to wife?
Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands,
And in poffeffion, twenty thoufand crowns.
Pet. And for that dowry, I'll affure her for
Her widowhood, be it that the furvive me,
In all my lands and leafes whatsoever;
Let fpecialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.

Bap. Ay, when the fpecial thing is well obtain'd,
That is, her love; for that is all in all.

Pet. Why that is nothing: for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory as the proud-minded.
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do cenfume the thing that feeds their fury.
Tho' little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extream gufts will blow out fire and all :
So I to her, and fo fhe yields to me,
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.

Bap. Well may'ft thou woo, and happy be thy speed!

But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words,

Pet.

Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, That shake not, tho' they blow perpetually.

SCENE III. Enter Hortenfio with bis head broke. Bap. How now, my friend, why doft thou look fo pale? Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.

Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good musician? Hor. I think he'll fooner prove a foldier ; Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.

Bap. Why then thou canst not break her to the lute?
Hor. Why no; for fhe hath broke the lute on me.
I did but tell her the mistook her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a moft impatient devilish spirit,

Frets call you them? quoth fhe: I'll fume with them:
And with that word fhe ftruck me on the head,
And through the inftrument my pate made way,
And there I ftood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute;
While fhe did call me rascal, fidler,

And twangling jack, with twenty fuch vile terms,
As fhe had ftudied to mifufe me fo.

Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lufty wench;
I love her ten times more than e'er I did;
Oh, how I long to have fome chat with her!
Bap. Well, go with me, and be not fo difcomfited.
Proceed in practice with my younger daughter,
She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns;
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
Or fhall I fend my daughter Kate to you?
Pet. I pray you, do. I will attend her here,

[Exit Bap. with Gre. Hor. and Tranio.
And woo her with fome fpirit when she comes.
Say that the rail, why then I'll tell her plain
She fings as fweetly as a nightingale :

Say that the frown, I'll fay the looks as clear
As morning rofes newly wash'd with dew;
Say the be mute, and will not fpeak a word,
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And fay, the uttereth piercing eloquence:
If the do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As tho' fhe bid me ftay by her a week;

If the deny to wed, I'll crave the day

When I fhall afk the banes, and when be married.
But here fhe comes, and now, Petruchio, speak.
SCENE IV. Enter Catharina.

Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name I hear.
Cath. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing.
They call me Catharine, that do talk of me.

Pet. You lie, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
And bonny Kate, and fometimes Kate the curft
But Kate, the prettieft Kate in christendom,
Kate of Kate-ball, my fuper-dainty Kate,
(For dainties are all Cates) and therefore Kate;
Take this of me, Kate of my confolation!
Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty founded,
Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs:

My felf am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.

Cath. Mov'd! in good time; let him that mov'd you hither,

Remove you hence; I knew you at the first

You were a moveable..

Pet. Why, what's a moveable?

Cath. A join'd stool.

Pet. Thou haft hit it; come, fit on me.
Cath. Affes are made to bear, and fo are you.'
Pet. Women are made to bear, and fo are you.
Cath. No fuch jade, Sir, as you, if me you mean.
Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burthen thee,
For knowing thee to be but young and light-
Cath. Too light for such a swâin as you to catch;

And yet as heavy as my weight fhould be. *

# .. .. weight fhould be.

Pet. Should! Bee: fhould !---- bus.

Cath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.

Pet. O flow-wing'd turtle, fhail a buzzard take thee?

Cath. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

Pet, Come, come, you wafp, i'faith you are too angry.
Cath. If I be wafpifh, 'beit beware my fting.

3et. My remedy is then to pluck it out.

Cath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lyes.
Pet. Who knows not where a wafp deth wear his fting?
In his tail.

Cath

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate. Infooth you 'scape not fo.
Cath. I chafe you if I tarry; let me go.

Pet No, not a whit, I find you paffing gentle :
'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and fullen,
And now I find report a very liar;

For thou art pleasant, gamefome, paffing courteous,
But flow in fpeech, yet fweet as fpring-time flowers.
Thou can'ft not frown, thou can'ft not look afcance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,

Nor haft thou pleasure to be crofs in talk:
But thou with mildness entertain'ft thy wooers,
With gentle conf'rence, foft, and affable.
• Why doth the world report that Kate doth limp?
Oh fland'rous world! Kate, like the hazle-twig,
Is ftrait and fender, and as brown in hue

As hazle-nuts, and fweeter than the kernels.
Oh, let me fee thee walk: thou dost not halt.

Catb. Go, fool, and whom thou keepest, those command.
Pet. Did ever Dian fo become a grove,

As Kate this chamber with her princely gaite?

Cath. In his tongue.

Pet. Whofe tongue?

Cath. Yours if you talk of tails, and fo farewel.

Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,

Good Kate, I am a gentleman.

Cath. That I'll try.

Pet. I fwear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
Cath. So may you lose your arms.

If you ftrike me you are no gentleman,

And if no gentleman, why then no arms.

Pet. A herald, Kate? oh, put me in thy books.
Cath. What is your creft, a coxcomb?"

Pat. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen.

[She frikes him

Cath. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.

Pet. Nay, come, Kate; come, you maft not look fo fower.
Cath. It is my fashion when 1 fee a crab.

Pet. Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not fower.

Cath. There is, there is.

Pet. Then fhew it me.

Cath. Had I a glafs I would.

Pet. What, you mean my face?

Cath. Well aim'd of fuch a young one.

Pet. Now, by St. George, I am too young for you.

Cath. Yet you are wither'd.

Pet. 'Tis with cares,

Cath. I care not.

Pa. Nay, 8%.

O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,

And then let Kate be chaft, and Dian sportful.
Cath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Cath. A witty mother, witlefs else her fon.
Pet. Am I not wife?

Cath. Yes; keep you warm.

Pet. Why, fo I mean, fweet Catharine, in thy bed: And therefore setting all this chat afide,

Thus in plain terms: your father hath confented
That you fhall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am à hufoand for your turn,
For by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me.
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild cat to a Kate,
Conformable as other houfhold Kates;
Here comes your father, never make denial,
I must and will have Catharine to my wife.
SCENE V.

Enter Baptifta, Gremio, and Tranio.
Bap. Signior Petruchio, how speed you with
My daughter?

Pet. How but well, Sir? how but well?

It were impoffible I should speed amiss.

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Catharine, in your dumps? Cath. Call you me daughter? now I promise you You've fhew'd a tender fatherly regard,

To with me wed to one half lunatick,
A madcap ruffian, and a fwearing jack,

That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
Pet. Father, 'tis thus; your felf and all the world
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amifs of her;
If fhe be curft, it is for policy,

For fhe's not froward, but modeft as the dove:
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn,
For patience the will prove a fecond Griffel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.

And

« AnteriorContinuar »