Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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3.2 Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio as Lucentio, Katherine, Bianca, and others, attendants

BAPTISTA (to Tranio)

Signor Lucentio, this is the ‘pointed day

That Katherine and Petruccio should be married,

And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.

What will be said, what mockery will it be,

To want the bridegroom when the priest attends

To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage?

What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

KATHERINE

No shame but mine. I must forsooth be forced

To give my hand opposed against my heart

Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen, 10

Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure.

I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,

Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour,

And to be noted for a merry man

He’ll woo a thousand, ‘point the day of marriage,

Make friends, invite them, and proclaim the banns,

Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed.

Now must the world point at poor Katherine

And say ‘Lo, there is mad Petruccio’s wife,

If it would please him come and marry her.’

TRANIO

Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista, too.

Upon my life, Petruccio means but well.

Whatever fortune stays him from his word,

Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;

Though he be merry, yet withal he’s honest.

KATHERINE

Would Katherine had never seen him, though.

Exit weeping

BAPTISTA

Go, girl. I cannot blame thee now to weep.

For such an injury would vex a very saint,

Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

Enter Biondello

BIONDELLO Master, master, news—old news, and such news as you never heard of. 31

BAPTISTA Is it new and old too? How may that be?

BIONDELLO Why, is it not news to hear of Petruccio’s coming?

BAPTISTA Is he come? 35

BIONDELLO Why, no, sir.

BAPTISTA What then?

BIONDELLO He is coming.

BAPTISTA When will he be here?

BIONDELLO When he stands where I am and sees you there. 41

TRANIO But say, what to thine old news?

BIONDELLO Why, Petruccio 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 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 staggers, begnawn with the bots, weighed in the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legged before and with a half-cheeked bit and a headstall 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 pieced, and a woman’s crupper of velour which hath two letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.

BAPTISTA Who comes with him?

BIONDELLO O sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned 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.

TRANIO

’Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;

Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparelled.

BAPTISTA

I am glad he’s come, howsoe’er he comes.

BIONDELLO Why, sir, he comes not.

BAPTISTA Didst thou not say he comes?

BIONDELLO Who? That Petruccio came? 75

BAPTISTA Ay, that Petruccio came.

BIONDELLO No, sir. I say his horse comes with him on his back.

BAPTISTA

Why, that’s all one.

BIONDELLO

Nay, by Saint Jamy, I hold you a penny,

A horse and a man

Is more than one,

And yet not many.

Enter Petruccio and Grumio, fantastically dressed

PETRUCCIO Come, where be these gallants? Who’s at home?

BAPTISTA You are welcome, sir.

PETRUCCIO And yet I come not well.

BAPTISTA And yet you halt not.

TRANIO

Not so well apparelled as I wish you were.

PETRUCCIO

Were it not better I should rush in thus—

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?

BAPTISTA

Why, sir, you know this is your wedding day.

First were we sad, fearing you would not come;

Now sadder that you come so unprovided.

Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,

An eyesore to our solemn festival.

TRANIO

And tell us what occasion of import

Hath all so long detained you from your wife

And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

PETRUCCIO

Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear.

Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,

Though in some part enforced to digress,

Which at more leisure I will so excuse

As you shall well be satisfied withal.

But where is Kate? I stay too long from her.

The morning wears, ’tis time we were at church.

TRANIO

See not your bride in these unreverent robes.

Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.

PETRUCCIO

Not I, believe me. Thus I’ll visit her.

BAPTISTA

But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

PETRUCCIO

Good sooth, even thus. Therefore ha’ done with

words.

To me she’s married, not unto my clothes.

Could I repair what she will wear in me

As I can change these poor accoutrements,

’Twere well for Kate and better for myself.

But what a fool am I to chat with you

When I should bid good morrow to my bride,

And seal the title with a lovely kiss!

Exit With Grumiol

TRANIO

He hath some meaning in his mad attire.

We will persuade him, be it possible,

To put on better ere he go to church.

[Exit with Gremio]

BAPTISTA

I’ll after him, and see the event of this.

[Exeunt]

3.3 [Enter Lucentio as Cambio, and Tranio as Lucentio]

TRANIO

But, sir, to love concerneth us to add

Her father’s liking, which to bring to pass,

As I before imparted to your worship,

I am to get a man—whate’er he be

It skills not much, we’ll fit him to our turn—

And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,

And make assurance here in Padua

Of greater sums than I have promised.

So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,

And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

LUCENTIO

Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster

Doth watch Bianca’s steps so narrowly,

‘Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage,

Which once performed, let all the world say no,

I’ll keep mine own, despite of all the world.

TRANIO

That by degrees we mean to look into,

And watch our vantage in this business.

We’ll overreach the greybeard Gremio,

The narrow-prying father Minola,

The quaint musician, amorous Licio,

All for my master’s sake, Lucentio.

Enter Gremio

Signor Gremio, came you from the church?

GREMIO

As willingly as e’er I came from school.

TRANIO

And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?

GREMIO

A bridegroom, say you? ’Tis a groom indeed—

A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.

TRANIO

Curster than she? Why, ’tis impossible.

GREMIO

Why, he’s a devil, a devil, a very fiend.

TRANIO

Why, she’s a devil, a devil, the devil’s dam.

GREMIO

Tut, she’s a lamb, a dove, a fool to him.

I’ll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest

Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,

‘Ay, by Gog’s woun’s,’ quoth he, and swore so loud

That all amazed the priest let fall the book,

And as he stooped again to take it up

This mad-brained bridegroom took him such a cuff

That down fell priest, and book, and book, and priest.

‘Now take them up,’ quoth he, ‘if any list.’

TRANIO

What said the vicar when he rose again?

GREMIO

Trembled and shook, forwhy he stamped and swore

As if the vicar meant to cozen him.

But after many ceremonies done

He calls for wine. ‘A health,’ quoth he, as if

He had been aboard, carousing to his mates

After a storm; quaffed off the muscatel

And threw the sops all in the sexton’s face,

Having no other reason

But that his beard grew thin and hungerly

And seemed to ask him sops as he was drinking.

This done, he took the bride about the neck

And kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack

That at the parting all the church did echo,

And I seeing this came thence for very shame,

And after me, I know, the rout is coming.

Such a mad marriage never was before.

Music plays

Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.

Enter Petruccio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio as

Licio, Baptista, Grumio, and others, attendants

PETRUCCIO

Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.

I know you think to dine with me today,

And have prepared great store of wedding cheer.

But so it is my haste doth call me hence,

And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

BAPTISTA

Is’t possible you will away tonight?

PETRUCCIO

I must away today, before night come.

Make it no wonder. If you knew my business,

You would entreat me rather go than stay.

And, honest company, I thank you all

That have beheld me give away myself

To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.

Dine with my father, drink a health to me,

For I must hence; and farewell to you all.

TRANIO

Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.

PETRUCCIO

It may not be.

GREMIO Let me entreat you.

PETRUCCIO

It cannot be.

KATHERINE Let me entreat you.

PETRUCCIO

I am content.

KATHERINE Are you content to stay?

PETRUCCIO

I am content you shall entreat me stay,

But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.

KATHERINE

Now, if you love me, stay.

PETRUCCIO Grumio, my horse.

GRUMIO Ay, sir, they be ready. The oats have eaten the horses.

KATHERINE

Nay, then, do what thou canst, I will not go today,

No, nor tomorrow—not till I please myself.

The door is open, sir, there lies your way.

You may be jogging whiles your boots are green.

For me, I’ll not be gone till I please myself.

’Tis like you’ll prove a jolly, surly groom,

That take it on you at the first so roundly.

PETRUCCIO

O Kate, content thee. Prithee, be not angry.

KATHERINE

I will be angry. What hast thou to do?

Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure.

GREMIO

Ay, marry, sir. Now it begins to work.

KATHERINE

Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.

I see a woman may be made a fool

If she had not a spirit to resist.

PETRUCCIO

They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.

Obey the bride, you that attend on her.

Go to the feast, revel and domineer,

Carouse full measure to her maidenhead.

Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.

But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.

Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret.

I will be master of what is mine own.

She is my goods, my chattels. She is my house,

My household-stuff, my field, my barn,

My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything,

And here she stands, touch her whoever dare.

I’ll bring mine action on the proudest he

That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,

Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves.

Rescue thy mistress if thou be a man.

Fear not, sweet wench. They shall not touch thee,

Kate.

I’ll buckler thee against a million.

Exeunt Petruccio, Katherine, and Grumio

BAPTISTA

Nay, let them go-a couple of quiet ones!

GREMIO

Went they not quickly I should die with laughing.

TRANIO

Of all mad matches never was the like.

LUCENTIO

Mistress, what’s your opinion of your sister?

BIANCA

That being mad herself she’s madly mated.

GREMIO

I warrant him, Petruccio is Kated.

BAPTISTA

Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom

wants

For to supply the places at the table,

You know there wants no junkets at the feast.

Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom’s place,

And let Bianca take her sister’s room.

TRANIO

Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?

BAPTISTA

She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let’s go.

Exeunt

4.1 Enter Grumio

GRUMIO Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all foul ways. Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so rayed? Was ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are coming after to warm them. Now were not I a little pot and soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly ere I should come by a fire to thaw me. But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself, for considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. Holla! Hoa, Curtis!

Enter Curtis

CURTIS Who is that calls so coldly?

GRUMlO A piece of ice. If thou doubt it, thou mayst slide from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis!

CURTIS Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?

GRUMlO O ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire! Cast on no water.

CURTIS Is she so hot a shrew as she’s reported?

GRUMlO She was, good Curtis, before this frost; but thou know’st, winter tames man, woman, and beast, for it hath tamed my old master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.

CURTIS Away, you three-inch fool. I am no beast.

GRUMIO Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot, and so long am I, at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain on thee to our mistress, whose hand—she being now at hand—thou shalt soon feel to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office.

CURTIS I prithee, good Grumio, tell me—how goes the world?

GRUMIO A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine. And therefore fire, do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.

CURTIS There’s fire ready, and therefore, good Grumio, the news.

GRUMIO Why, ‘Jack boy, ho boy!’, and as much news as wilt thou.

CURTIS Come, you are so full of cony-catching.

GRUMIO Why, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme cold. Where’s the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the servingmen in their new fustian, the white stockings, and every officer his wedding garment on? Be the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, the carpets laid, and everything in order?

CURTIS All ready, and therefore, I pray thee, news.

GRUMIO First, know my horse is tired, my master and mistress fallen out.

CURTIS How?

GRUMIO Out of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby hangs a tale.

CURTIS Let’s ha’t, good Grumio.

GRUMIO Lend thine ear.

CURTIS Here.

GRUMTO (cuffing him) There.

CURTIS This ’tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.

GRUMlO And therefore ’tis called a sensible tale, and this cuff was but to knock at your ear and beseech listening. Now I begin. Inprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress.

CURTIS Both of one horse?

GRUMIO What’s that to thee?

CURTIS Why, a horse.

GRUMlO Tell thou the tale. But hadst thou not crossed me thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse; thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was bemoiled, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me because her horse stumbled, how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me, how he swore, how she prayed that never prayed before, how I cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was burst, how I lost my crupper, with many things of worthy memory which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienced to thy grave.

CURTIS By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.

GRUMIO Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the rest. Let their heads be sleekly combed, their blue coats brushed, and their garters of an indifferent knit. Let them curtsy with their left legs and not presume to touch a hair of my master’s horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?

CURTIS They are.

GRUMIO Call them forth.

CURTIS (calling) Do you hear, ho? You must meet my master to countenance my mistress.

GRUMIO Why, she hath a face of her own.

CURTIS Who knows not that?

GRUMIO Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.

CURTIS I call them forth to credit her.

Enter four or five servingmen

GRUMIO Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.

NATHANIEL Welcome home, Grumio!

PHILIP How now, Grumio?

JOSEPH What, Grumio?

NICHOLAS Fellow Grumio!

NATHANIEL How now, old lad!

GRUMIO Welcome you, how now you, what you, fellow you, and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready and all things neat?

NATHANIEL All things is ready. How near is our master?

GRUMIO E’en at hand, alighted by this, and therefore be not—Cock’s passion, silence! I hear my master.

Enter Petruccio and Katherine

PETRUCCIO

Where be these knaves? What, no man at door

To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse?

Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

ALL SERVANTS Here, here sir, here sir.

PETRUCCIO

Here sir, here sir, here sir, here sir!

You logger-headed and unpolished grooms,

What! No attendance! No regard! No duty!

Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

GRUMIO

Here, sir, as foolish as I was before.

PETRUCCIO

You peasant swain, you whoreson, malthorse drudge,

Did I not bid thee meet me in the park

And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?

GRUMIO

Nathaniel’s coat, sir, was not fully made,

And Gabriel’s pumps were all unpinked i‘th’ heel.

There was no link to colour Peter’s hat,

And Walter’s dagger was not come from sheathing.

There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory.

The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly.

Yet as they are, here are they come to meet you.

PETRUCCIO

Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.

Exeunt servants

(Sings)

‘Where is the life that late I led?

Where are those—’

Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud.

Enter servants with supper

Why, when, I say?—Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.—

Off with my boots, you rogues, you villains. When?

(Sings)

‘It was the friar of orders gray,

As he forth walked on his way.’

Out, you rogue, you pluck my foot awry.

(Kicking a servant) Take that, and mend the plucking of the other.

Be merry, Kate. (Calling) Some water, here. What, hoa!

Enter one with water

Where’s my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,

And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither—

One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.

(Calling) Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?

Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.

[A servant drops water]

You whoreson villain, will you let it fall?

KATHERINE

Patience, I pray you, ‘twas a fault unwilling.

PETRUCCIO

A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-eared knave. Come, Kate, sit down, I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I? 145 What’s this—mutton?

FIRST SERVINGMAN

Ay.

PETRUCCIO

Who brought it?

PETER

I.

PETRUCCIO

’Tis burnt, and so is all the meat.

What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook?

How durst you villains bring it from the dresser

And serve it thus to me that love it not?

There, (throwing food) take it to you, trenchers, cups,

and all,

You heedless jolt-heads and unmannered slaves.

What, do you grumble? I’ll be with you straight.

He chases the servants away

KATHERINE

I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet.

The meat was well, if you were so contented.

PETRUCCIO

I tell thee, Kate, ‘twas burnt and dried away,

And I expressly am forbid to touch it,

For it engenders choler, planteth anger,

And better ’twere that both of us did fast,

Since of ourselves ourselves are choleric,

Than feed it with such overroasted flesh.

Be patient, tomorrow’t shall be mended,

And for this night we’ll fast for company.

Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt

Enter servants severally

NATHANIEL Peter, didst ever see the like?

PETER He kills her in her own humour.

Enter Curtis, a servant

GRUMIO Where is he?

CURTIS In her chamber,

Making a sermon of continency to her,

And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,

Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,

And sits as one new risen from a dream.

Away, away, for he is coming hither.

Exeunt

Enter Petruccio

PETRUCCIO

Thus have I politicly begun my reign,

And ‘tis my hope to end successfully.

My falcon now is sharp and passing empty,

And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,

For then she never looks upon her lure.

Another way I have to man my haggard,

To make her come and know her keeper’s call—

That is, to watch her as we watch these kites

That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.

She ate no meat today, nor none shall eat.

Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not.

As with the meat, some undeserved fault

I’ll find about the making of the bed,

And here I’ll fling the pillow, there the bolster,

This way the coverlet, another way the sheets,

Ay, and amid this hurly I intend

That all is done in reverent care of her,

And in conclusion she shall watch all night,

And if she chance to nod I’ll rail and brawl

And with the clamour keep her still awake.

This is a way to kill a wife with kindness,

And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humour.

He that knows better how to tame a shrew,

Now let him speak. ’Tis charity to show.

Exit