Читать книгу The Taming of the Shrew - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 5

  PETRUCHIO. Verona, for a while I take my leave,

    To see my friends in Padua; but of all

    My best beloved and approved friend,

    Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.

    Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.

 GRUMIO. Knock, sir! Whom should I knock?

    Is there any man has rebus'd your worship?

  PETRUCHIO. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

  GRUMIO. Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I

    should knock you here, sir?

  PETRUCHIO. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,

    And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.

  GRUMIO. My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you

first,

    And then I know after who comes by the worst.

  PETRUCHIO. Will it not be?

    Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock I'll ring it;

    I'll try how you can sol-fa, and sing it.

                                     [He wrings him by the ears]

  GRUMIO. Help, masters, help! My master is mad.

  PETRUCHIO. Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!

  HORTENSIO. How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio and

my

    good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?

  PETRUCHIO. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?

    'Con tutto il cuore ben trovato' may I say.

  HORTENSIO. Alla nostra casa ben venuto,

    Molto honorato signor mio Petruchio.

    Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel.

  GRUMIO. Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If

this

    be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service- look you,

sir:

    he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it

fit

    for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught

I

    see, two and thirty, a pip out?

    Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,

    Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

  PETRUCHIO. A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,

    I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,

    And could not get him for my heart to do it.

  GRUMIO. Knock at the gate? O heavens! Spake you not these words

    plain: 'Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and

    knock me soundly'? And come you now with 'knocking at the

gate'?

  PETRUCHIO. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

  HORTENSIO. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge;

    Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,

    Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.

    And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale

    Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

  PETRUCHIO. Such wind as scatters young men through the world

    To seek their fortunes farther than at home,

    Where small experience grows. But in a few,

    Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:

    Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,

    And I have thrust myself into this maze,

    Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;

    Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,

    And so am come abroad to see the world.

  HORTENSIO. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee

    And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?

    Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,

    And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,

    And very rich; but th'art too much my friend,

    And I'll not wish thee to her.

  PETRUCHIO. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we

    Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know

    One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,

    As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,

    Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,

    As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd

    As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse-

    She moves me not, or not removes, at least,

    Affection's edge in me, were she as rough

    As are the swelling Adriatic seas.

    I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;

    If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

  GRUMIO. Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind

is.

    Why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an

    aglet-baby, or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head,

though

    she has as many diseases as two and fifty horses. Why,

nothing

    comes amiss, so money comes withal.

  HORTENSIO. Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,

    I will continue that I broach'd in jest.

    I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife

    With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;

    Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman;

    Her only fault, and that is faults enough,

    Is- that she is intolerable curst,

    And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure

    That, were my state far worser than it is,

    I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

  PETRUCHIO. Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.

    Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;

    For I will board her though she chide as loud

    As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.

  HORTENSIO. Her father is Baptista Minola,

    An affable and courteous gentleman;

    Her name is Katherina Minola,

    Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.

  PETRUCHIO. I know her father, though I know not her;

    And he knew my deceased father well.

    I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;

    And therefore let me be thus bold with you

    To give you over at this first encounter,

    Unless you will accompany me thither.

  GRUMIO. I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O'

my

    word, and she knew him as well as I do, she would think

scolding

    would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half

a

    score knaves or so. Why, that's nothing; and he begin once,

he'll

    rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, sir: an she

stand

    him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so

    disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see

    withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.

  HORTENSIO. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,

    For in Baptista's keep my treasure is.

    He hath the jewel of my life in hold,

    His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca;

    And her withholds from me, and other more,