« AnteriorContinuar »
the lute, and you the set of books, [to Hor. and Luc.
You shall go see your pupils presently.
Enter a Servant.
Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
To my two daughters, and then tell them both,
These are their tutors; bid them use them well.
[Ex. Serv. with Hor. and Luc.
We will go walk a little in the orchard,
And then to dinner : you are passing welcome,
And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
Pet. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
And every day I cannot come to woo.
You knew my father well, and in him me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better'd rather than decreas'd:
get your daughter's love,
What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands;
And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.
Pet. And for that dowry, I'll assure her for
Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
In all my lands and leases whatsoever :
Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.
Bap. Ay, when the special 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 she proud-minded.
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all :
So I to her, and fo she yields to me;
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
Bap. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy speed ! But be thou arm’d for some unhappy words.
Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
Enter Hortensio, with his head broke.
Bap. How now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?
Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier;
hold with her, but never lutes.
Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
Hor. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute on me.
I did but tell her, she mistook her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish fpirit,
Frets call you them? quoth she: I'll fume with them:
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute;
While she did call me rascal, fidler,
And twangling jack, with twenty such vile terms,
As she had studied to misuse me so.
Pet. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
I love her ten times more than e'er I did :
O, how I long to have some chat with her!
Bap. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited.
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 shall I send 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 some spirit when she comes.
Say, that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain,
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:
Say, that she frown; I'll fay, she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word;
And say, she uttereth piercing eloquence:
If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bid me stay by her a week :
If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the banes, and when be married.
But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
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, sometimes, Kate the curft:
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in christendom,
Kate of Kate-ball, my super-dainty Kate,
(For dainties are all cates, and therefore Kate;
Take this of me, Kate of
Hearing thy mildness prais’d in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
(Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs)
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for
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 ?
Catb. A jointstool.
Pet. Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.
Cath. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
Pet. Women are made to bear, and so are you.
Cath. No such jade, sir, as you, if me you mean.
Pet. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee;
For, knowing thee to be but young and light-
Cath. Too light for such a fwain as you to catch;
And yet as heavy as my weight should be, *
Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate : insooth, you 'scape not so.
Cath. I chafe
you if I tarry; let me go.
Pet. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle :
'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
And now I find report a very liar;
For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
• ---- weight should be.
Pet. Should ! Bee: should !--, buz.
Cath. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
Pet. O flow-wing'd turtle ! shall a buzzard take thee?
Cath. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
Pet. Come, come, you wasp; i'faith, you are too angry.
Cath. If I be wafpith, 'best beware my king,
Pet. My remedy is then to pluck it out.
Cath. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies,
Pet. Who knows not where a wasp doth wear his sting?
In his tail.
Cath. In his tongue.
Pet. Whose tongue?
Cath. Yours, if you talk of tails, and so farewel.
Pet. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,
Good Kate, I am a gentleman.
Cath. That I'll try.
jhe Srikes bimo Pet. I swear, I'll cuff you,
you strike agaip. lose
If you strike me you are no gentleman,
And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
Pet. A herald, Kate? o, put me in thy books.
Cath. What is your crest: a coxcomb?
Pet. A combless cock, só Kate will be my hen.
Cath, No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven.
Pet. Nay, come, Kate; come, you must not look so four.
Cath. It is my fashion when I see a crab.
Pet. Why, here's no erab; and therefore look not four.
Cath. There is, there is.
Pet. Then show it me.
Cath. Had I a glass, I would.
Pet. What, you mean my
Cath. Well aim'd of such a young one.
Pet. Now, by faint George, I am too young for you.
Cath. Yet you are wither'd.
Pet. 'Tis with cares,
Cath. I care not.
Pet. Nay &c.
But flow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers :
Thou can'ít not frown, thou can'st not look afcance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will;
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk :
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conf'rence, soft, and affable.
Why doth the world report that Kate doth limp?
o, sland'rous world! Kate, like che hazel-twig,
Is strait, and sender; and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
0, let me see thee walk : thou dost not halt.
Cath. Go, fool, and whom thou keepest, those command.
Pet. Did ever Dian fo become a grove,
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait ?
o, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
And then let. Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful.
Cath. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Pet. It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
Cath. A witty mother, witless else her son.
Pet. Am I not wise?
Cath. Yes; keep you warm.
Pet. Why, so I mean, sweet Catharine, in thy bed:
And therefore setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And will nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
For, by this light, whereby I see 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 houshold Kates:
Here comes your father; never make denial,
I must and will have Catharine to my wife.