The Taming of the Shrew. Уильям Шекспир
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as a flatt’ring dream or worthless fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
| And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; | 45 |
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet;
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
| And if he chance to speak, be ready straight, | 50 |
And with a low submissive reverence
Say ‘What is it your honour will command?’
Let one attend him with a silver basin
Full of rose-water and bestrew’d with flowers;
| Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, | 55 |
And say ‘Will’t please your lordship cool your hands?’
Some one be ready with a costly suit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
| And that his lady mourns at his disease; | 60 |
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic,
And, when he says he is, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
| It will be pastime passing excellent, | 65 |
If it be husbanded with modesty.
1 Huntsman
My lord, I warrant you we will play our part
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is.
Lord
| Take him up gently, and to bed with him; | 70 |
And each one to his office when he wakes.
[SLY is carried out. A trumpet sounds.]
Sirrah, go see what trumpet ’tis that sounds –
[Exit Servant.]
Belike some noble gentleman that means,
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
[Re-enter a Servant.]
How now! who is it?
Servant
| An’t please your honour, players | 75 |
That offer service to your lordship.
Lord
Bid them come near.
[Enter Players.]
Now, fellows, you are welcome.
Players
We thank your honour.
Lord
Do you intend to stay with me to-night?
Player
| So please your lordship to accept our duty. | 80 |
Lord
With all my heart. This fellow I remember
Since once he play’d a farmer’s eldest son;
’Twas where you woo’d the gentlewoman so well.
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
| Was aptly fitted and naturally perform’d. | 85 |
Player
I think ’twas Soto that your honour means.
Lord
’Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in a happy time,
The rather for I have some sport in hand
| Wherein your cunning can assist me much. | 90 |
There is a lord will hear you play to-night;
But I am doubtful of your modesties,
Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour,
For yet his honour never heard a play,
| You break into some merry passion | 95 |
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.
Player
Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world.
Lord
| Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, | 100 |
And give them friendly welcome every one;
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
[Exit one with the Players.]
Sirrah, go you to Barthol’mew my page,
And see him dress’d in all suits like a lady;
| That done, conduct him to the drunkard’s chamber, | 105 |
And call him ‘madam’, do him obeisance.
Tell him from me – as he will win my love –
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observ’d in noble ladies
| Unto their lords, by them accomplished; | 110 |
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say ‘What is’t your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
| May show her duty and make known her love?’ | 115 |
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed
To see her noble lord restor’d to health,
| Who for this seven years hath esteemed him | 120 |
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar.
And if the boy have not a woman’s gift
To rain a shower of commanded