图书图片
PDF
ePub

And to be noted for a merry man,

He'll wooe a thoufand, 'point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banes;
Yet never means to wed, where he hath woo'd.
Now muft the world point at poor Catharine,
And fay, lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come and marry her.
Tra. Patience, good Catharine, and Baptifta too;
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well;
What ever fortune stays him from his word.
Tho' he be blunt, I know him paffing wife;
Tho' he be merry, yet withal he's honeft.

Cath. Would Catharine had never seen him the'!
[Exit weeping.
Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
For fuch an injury would vex a faint,

Much more a fhrew of thy impatient humour.
Enter Biondello.

Bion. Mafter, mafter; old news, and fuch news as you never heard of.

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Bion. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming? Bap. Is he come ?

Bion. Why, no, Sir.

Bap. What then?

Bion. He is coming.

Bap. When will he be here ?

Bion. When he ftands where I am, and fees you there. Tra. But, fay, what to thine old news ?

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an ola jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots that have been candle-cafes, one buckled, another lac'd; an old rufty fword ta'en out of the townarmory, with a broken hilt, and chapelefs, with two broken points; his horfe hip'd with an old mothy faddle, the ftirrups of no kindred; befides, poffeft with the glanders, and like to mofe in the chine, troubled with the lampaffe, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, fped with fpavins, raied with the yellows, paft cure of

the

the fives, ftark spoiled with the ftaggers, begnawn with the bots, waid in the back and shoulder-shotten, nearlegg'd before, and with a half checkt bit, and a headstall of theep's leather, which being reftrain'd, to keep him from stumbling, hath been often burft, and now repair'd with knots; one girt, fix times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her name, fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and there piec'd with packthread.

Bap. Who comes with him?

Bion. Oh, Sir, his lackey, for all the world caparifon'd like the horse, with a linnen stock on one leg, and a kersey boot-hofe on the other, garter'd with a red and blue lift, an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies prickt up in't for a feather: a monfter, a very monster in apparel, and not like a christian footboy, or a gentleman's lackey.

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to this fashion; Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparell'd.

Bap. I am glad he's come, howfoever he comes.
Bion. Why, Sir, he comes not.

Bap. Didft thou not fay, he comes?

Bion. Who? that Petruchio came.

Bap. Ay, that Petruchio came.

Bion. No, Sir; I fay, his horfe comes with him on his back.

Bap. Why, that's all one.

Bion. Nay, by St. Jamy, I hold you a penny,

A horse and a man is more than one, and yet not many. Enter Petruchio and Grumio fantastically habited.

Pet. Come, where be these gallants? who is at home? Bap. You're welcome. Sir.

Pet. And yet I come not well.

Bap. And yet you halt not.

Tra. Not fo well 'parell'd, as I wish you were.

Pet. Were it better, I fhould 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 faw fome wondrous monument,
Some comet, or unufual prodigy?

Bap. Why, Sir, you know, this is your wedding day: First, were we fad, fearing you would not come;

Now fadder, that you come fo unprovided.

Fy, doff this habit, fhame to your estate,
An eye-fore to our folemn festival.

Tra. And tell us what occafion of import
Hath all fo long detain'd you from your wife,
And fent you hither fo unlike yourself?

Pet. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear :
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,
Tho' in fome part enforced to digrefs,..
Which at more leifure I will fo excufe,
As you fhall well be fatisfied withal.

But, where is Kate? I ftay too long from her;
The morning wears; 'tis time, we were at church.
Tra. See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
Go to my chamber, put on cloaths of mine.

Pet. Not I: believe me, thus I'll visit her.

Bap. But thus, I truft, you will not marry her.
Pet. Good footh, even thus; therefore ha'done with

To me fhe's married, not unto my cloaths:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could change these poor accoutrements,
"Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I to chat with you,

[words;

When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,

And feal the title with a lovely kifs?

[Exit.

Tra. He hath fome meaning in his mad attire:

We will perfuade him, be it poffible,

To put on better ere he go to church.

Bap. I'll after him, and fee the event of this. [Exit.
Tra, But, Sir, our 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 fhall be Vincentio of Pifa,
And make affurance here in Padua

Of

Of greater fums than I have promised:
So fhall you quietly enjoy your hope,
And marry sweet Bianca with confent.

Luc. Were it not, that my fellow school-master
Doth watch Bianca's fteps fo narrowly,
"Twere good, methinks, to fteal our marriage;
Which once perform'd, let all the world fay no,
I'll keep my own, defpight of all the world.
Tra. That by degrees we mean to look into,
And watch our vantage in this bufinefs:
We'll over-reach the gray-beard Gremio,
The narrow-prying father Minola,
The quaint mufician amorous Licio;
All for my mafter's fake, Lucentio.

Enter Gremio.,

Now, Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
Tra. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
Gre. A bridegroom, fay you? 'tis a groom, indeed,
A grumbling groom, and that the girl fhall find.
Tra. Curster than fle? why, 'tis impoffible.
Gre. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
Tra. Why, fhe's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam,
Gre. Tut, fhe's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him:
I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio; when the priest
Should afk, if Catharine fhould be his wife?
Ay, by gogs-woons, quoth he; and fwore fo loud, v
That, all-amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
And as he stoop'd again to take it up,

This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him fuch a cuff,
That down fell priest and book, and book and prieft.
Now take them up, quoth he, if any lift..

Tra. What faid the wench, when he rofe up again?
Gre. Trembled and fhook? for why, he ftamp'd and

He calls for wine: a health, quoth he; as if

[fvore

As if the vicar meant to cozen him.

But after many ceremonies done,

H'ad been aboard caroufing to his mates

After a form; quafft off the mufcadel,

And threw the fops all in the fexton's face

Having

Having no other caufe, but that his beard
Grew thin and hungerly, and feem'd to ask
His fops as he was drinking. This done, he took
The bride about the neck, and kift her lips
With fuch a clamorous fmack, that at the parting
All the church echo'd; and I feeing this,
Came thence for very fhame; and after me,

I know, the rout is coming: Such a mad marriage
Ne'er was before.-Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels.
[Mufick plays.

Enter Petruchio, Catharina, Bianca, Hortenfio,
and Baptifta.

Pet. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
I know, you think to dine with me to-day,
And have prepar❜d great ftore of wedding cheer;
But fo it is, my haste doth call me hence;
And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
Bap. Is't poffible, you will away to-night?
Pet. I muft away to day, before night come.
Make it no wonder; if you knew my
bufinefs,
You would intreat me rather go than stay.
And, honeft company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away myself
To this moft patient, fweet and virtuous wife.
Dine with my father, drink a health to me,
For I must hence, and farewel to you all.

Tra. Let us intreat you stay 'till after dinner.
Pet. It may not be.

Gre. Let me intreat you.

Pet. It cannot be.

Cath. Let me intreat you.

Pet. I am content

Cath. Are you content to stay?

Pet. I am content, you shall intreat me, stay;

But yet not stay, intreat me how you can.

Cath. Now, if you love me, ftay.

Pet. Grumio, my horfes.

Gru. Ay, Sir, they be ready; The oats have eaten the horfes.

Cath. Nay, then,

Do

« 上一页继续 »