Читать книгу Shakespeare: The Complete Collection - William Shakespeare - Страница 29

Enter Petruchio, Kate, Hortensio, [and Servants].

Pet.

Come on a’ God’s name, once more toward our father’s.

Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!

Kath.

The moon! the sun—it is not moonlight now.

Pet.

I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

Kath.

I know it is the sun that shines so bright.

Pet.

Now by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,

It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,

Or ere I journey to your father’s house.—

Go on, and fetch our horses back again.—

Evermore cross’d and cross’d, nothing but cross’d!

Hor.

Say as he says, or we shall never go.

Kath.

Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,

And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;

And if you please to call it a rush-candle,

Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

Pet.

I say it is the moon.

Kath.

I know it is the moon.

Pet.

Nay then you lie; it is the blessed sun.

Kath.

Then God be blest, it [is] the blessed sun,

But sun it is not, when you say it is not;

And the moon changes even as your mind.

What you will have it nam’d, even that it is,

And so it shall be so for Katherine.

Hor.

Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won.

Pet.

Well, forward, forward, thus the bowl should run,

And not unluckily against the bias.

But soft, company is coming here.

Enter Vincentio.

[To Vincentio.]

Good morrow, gentle mistress, where away?

Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,

Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?

Such war of white and red within her cheeks!

What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,

As those two eyes become that heavenly face?

Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.

Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty’s sake.

Hor.

’A will make the man mad, to make [a] woman of him.

Kath.

Young budding virgin, fair, and fresh, and sweet,

Whither away, or [where] is thy abode?

Happy the parents of so fair a child!

Happier the man whom favorable stars

Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow!

Pet.

Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad.

This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,

And not a maiden, as thou say’st he is.

Kath.

Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,

That have been so bedazzled with the sun,

That every thing I look on seemeth green;

Now I perceive thou are a reverent father.

Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

Pet.

Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known

Which way thou travellest—if along with us,

We shall be joyful of thy company.

Vin.

Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,

That with your strange encounter much amaz’d me,

My name is call’d Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,

And bound I am to Padua, there to visit

A son of mine, which long I have not seen.

Pet.

What is his name?

Vin.

Lucentio, gentle sir.

Pet.

Happily met, the happier for thy son.

And now by law, as well as reverent age,

I may entitle thee my loving father.

The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,

Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,

Nor be not grieved; she is of good esteem,

Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;

Beside, so qualified as may beseem

The spouse of any noble gentleman.

Let me embrace with old Vincentio,

And wander we to see thy honest son,

Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

Vin.

But is this true, or is it else your pleasure,

Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest

Upon the company you overtake?

Hor.

I do assure thee, father, so it is.

Pet.

Come go along and see the truth hereof,

For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.

Exeunt [all but Hortensio].

Hor.

Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.

Have to my widow! and if she [be] froward,

Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.

Exit.

¶

I.I. Ibbetson, p. — Isaac Taylor, e.