Tales From Shakespeare [71]
from Verona to solicit her love. Her father, though he wished her married, was forced to confess Katharine would ill answer this character, it being soon apparent of what manner of gentleness she was composed, for her music-master rushed into the room to complain that the gentle Katharine, his pupil, had broken his head with her lute for presuming to find fault with her performance; which, when Petruchio heard, he said:
"It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have some chat with her." And hurrying the old gentleman for a positive answer, he said: "My business is in haste, Signor Baptista. I cannot come every day to woo. You knew my father. He is dead, and has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love, what dowry you will give with her."
Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but, being glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would give her twenty thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and Baptista went to apprise his shrewish daughter of her lover's addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of courtship be should pursue; and he said: "I will woo her with some spirit when she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will tell her she sings as sweetly as a nightingale; and if she frowns, I will say she looks as clear as roses newly washed with dew. If she will not speak a word, I will praise the eloquence of her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will give her thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week."
Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed her with:
"Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear."
Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully, "They call me Katharine who do speak to me."
"You lie," replied the lover; "for you are called plain Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your mildness praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my wife."
A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms showing him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he still praised her sweet and courteous words, till at length, hearing her father coming, he said (intending to make as quick a wooing as possible):
"Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your father has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is agreed on, and whether you will or no I will marry you."
And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had received him kindly and that she had promised to be married the next Sunday. This Katharine denied, saying she would rather see him hanged on Sunday, and reproached her father for wishing to wed her to such a madcap ruffian as Petruchio. Petruchio desired her father not to regard her angry words, for they had agreed she should seem reluctant before him, but that when they were alone he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
"Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the wedding guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and rich clothes, that my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on Sunday."
On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they waited long before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for vexation to think that Petruchio had only been making a jest of her. At last, however, he appeared; but he brought none of the bridal finery be had promised Katharine, nor was he dressed himself like a bridegroom, but in strange, disordered attire, as if he meant to make a sport of the serious business he came about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode were in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said Katharine was
"It is a brave wench. I love her more than ever, and long to have some chat with her." And hurrying the old gentleman for a positive answer, he said: "My business is in haste, Signor Baptista. I cannot come every day to woo. You knew my father. He is dead, and has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love, what dowry you will give with her."
Baptista thought his manner was somewhat blunt for a lover; but, being glad to get Katharine married, he answered that he would give her twenty thousand crowns for her dowry, and half his estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and Baptista went to apprise his shrewish daughter of her lover's addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
In the mean time Petruchio was settling with himself the mode of courtship be should pursue; and he said: "I will woo her with some spirit when she comes. If she rails at me, why, then I will tell her she sings as sweetly as a nightingale; and if she frowns, I will say she looks as clear as roses newly washed with dew. If she will not speak a word, I will praise the eloquence of her language; and if she bids me leave her, I will give her thanks as if she bid me stay with her a week."
Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed her with:
"Good morrow, Kate, for that is your name, I hear."
Katharine, not liking this plain salutation, said, disdainfully, "They call me Katharine who do speak to me."
"You lie," replied the lover; "for you are called plain Kate, and bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the Shrew; but, Kate, you are the prettiest Kate in Christendom, and therefore, Kate, hearing your mildness praised in every town, I am come to woo you for my wife."
A strange courtship they made of it. She in loud and angry terms showing him how justly she had gained the name of Shrew, while he still praised her sweet and courteous words, till at length, hearing her father coming, he said (intending to make as quick a wooing as possible):
"Sweet Katharine, let us set this idle chat aside, for your father has consented that you shall be my wife, your dowry is agreed on, and whether you will or no I will marry you."
And now Baptista entering, Petruchio told him his daughter had received him kindly and that she had promised to be married the next Sunday. This Katharine denied, saying she would rather see him hanged on Sunday, and reproached her father for wishing to wed her to such a madcap ruffian as Petruchio. Petruchio desired her father not to regard her angry words, for they had agreed she should seem reluctant before him, but that when they were alone he had found her very fond and loving; and he said to her:
"Give me your hand, Kate. I will go to Venice to buy you apparel against our wedding-day. Provide the feast, father, bid the wedding guests. I will be sure to bring rings, fine array, and rich clothes, that my Katharine may be fine. And kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on Sunday."
On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they waited long before Petruchio came, and Katharine wept for vexation to think that Petruchio had only been making a jest of her. At last, however, he appeared; but he brought none of the bridal finery be had promised Katharine, nor was he dressed himself like a bridegroom, but in strange, disordered attire, as if he meant to make a sport of the serious business he came about; and his servant and the very horses on which they rode were in like manner in mean and fantastic fashion habited.
Petruchio could not be persuaded to change his dress. He said Katharine was