« AnteriorContinuar »
Pet. Nay, then, you lie; it is the blessed sun.
Hor. Petruchio, go thy way, the field is won. Pet. Well, forward, forward: thus the bowl fhould run; And not unluckily against the bias: But, foft! fome company is coming here.
Good morrow, gentle mistress; where away?
Hor. He will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
Cath. Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode ?
In the firft sketch of this play, printed in 1607, we find two fpeeches in this place worth preferving, and feeming to be of the hand of Shakespear, though the rest of that play is far inferiour. Fair lovely maiden, young, and affable, More clear of hue, and far more beautiful Than precious fardonyx, or purple rocks Of amethyfts, or gliftering hyacynth ---Sweet Catharine, this lovely woman Cath. Fair lovely lady, bright, and crystalline, Beauteous and stately as the eye-train'd bird; As glorious as the morning wafh'd with dew, Within whofe eyes fhe takes her dawning beams, And golden fummer fleeps upon thy cheeks. Wrap up thy radiations in fome cloud,
Left that thy beauty make this stately town
Happy the parents of fo fair a child;
Happier the man, whom favourable stars
Pet. Why, how now, Kate, I hope, thou art not mad!
Cath. Pardon, old father, my mistaken eyes,
Pet. Do, good old grandfire, and withal make known
Vin. Fair fir, and you my merry mistress too,
A fon of mine, which long I have not seen.
Vin. Lucentio, gentle fir.
Pet. Happily met; the happier for thy son: And now by law, as well as reverend age,
may entitle thee my loving father:
Vin. But is this true? or is it elfe your pleasure,
Hor. I do affure thee, father, fo it is.
Before Lucentio's house.
Enter Biondello, Lucentio, and Bianca; Gremio walking on one fide.
OFTLY and fwiftly, fir, for the priest is ready. Luc. I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need thee at home, therefore leave us.
Bion. Nay, 'faith, I'll fee the church o' your back, and then come back to my business as foon as I can.
Gre. I marvel, Cambio comes not all this while.
Enter Petruchio, Catharina, Vincentio, and Grumio, with Attendants.
Pet. Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house,
Vin. You fhall not choose but drink before you go;
Gre. They're bufy within, you were beft knock louder.
Ped. He's within, fir, but not to be spoken withal.
Vin. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to make merry withal ?
Ped. Keep your hundred pounds to yourself, he shall need none as long as I live.
Pet. Nay, I told you, your fon was belov'd in Padua. Do you hear, fir? to leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you, tell fignior Lucentio, that his father is come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.
Ped. Thou lieft; his father is come to Padua, and here looking out of the window.
Vin. Art thou his father?
Ped. Ay, fir, fo his mother fays, if I
may believe her.
Pet. Why, how now, gentleman! why, this is flat knavery to take upon you another man's name.
Ped. Lay hands on the villain: I believe, he means to cozen fomebody in this city under my countenance.
Bion. I have seen them in the church together. God fend 'em good fhipping! but who is here? mine old mafter Vincentio? now we are undone, and brought to nothing.
Vin. Come hither, crack-hemp.
Bion. I hope, I may choose, fir.
Vin. What, you notorious villain, didst thou never fee thy mafter's father Vincentio?
Bion. What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry, fir, fee where he looks out of the window.
Vin. Is't fo, indeed?
[He beats Biondello. Bion. Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me. Ped. Help, fon! help, fignior Baptifta!
Pet. Pr'ythee, Kate, let's ftand afide, and fee the end of this controverfy.
Enter Pedant with Servants, Baptifta, and Tranio. Tra. Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my fervant?
Vin. What am I, fir? nay, what are you, fir? o immortal gods! o fine villain! a filken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak, and a copatain hat! o, I am undone, I am undone! while I play the good husband at home, my fon and my fervants spend all at the university.
Tra. How now! what's the matter?
Bap. What, is this man lunatick?
Tra. Sir, you seem a fober ancient gentleman by your habit, but your words show you a madman: why, fir, what concerns it you, if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to
Vin. Thy father! o villain, he is a fail-maker in Bergamo. Bap. You mistake, fir; you mistake, fir: pray, what do you think is his name?
Vin. His name? as if I knew not his name: I have brought him up ever fince he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.
Ped. Away, away, mad afs! his name is Lucentio; and he is mine only fon, and heir to the lands of me fignior Vincentio.
Vin. Lucentio! o, he hath murdered his master; lay hold on him, I charge you in the duke's name: o my fon, my fon! tell me, thou villain, where is my fon Lucentio?
Tra. Call forth an officer: carry this mad knave to the jail: father Baptifta, I charge you, fee that he be forthcoming.
Vin. Carry me to jail?
Gre. Stay, officer, he fhall not go to prifon.
Bap. Talk not, fignior Gremio: I fay, he fhall go to prison. Gre. Take heed, fignior Baptifta, left you be conycatch'd in this bufinefs; I dare fwear, this is the right Vincentio.
Ped. Swear, if thou dar'ft.