K atharine, the Shrew, was the eldest daughter of Baptista, a rich gentleman of Padua. She was a lady of such an ungovernable spirit and fiery temper, that she was known in Padua by no other name than Katharine the Shrew. It seemed very unlikely that any gentleman would ever be found who would venture to marry this lady, and therefore Baptista was much blamed for deferring his consent to many excellent offers that were made to her gentle sister Bianca,putting off all Bianca’s interested parties with this excuse, that when the eldest sister was fairly off his hands they should have free leave to address young Bianca.
It happened, however, that a gentleman, named Petruchio, came to Padua purposely to look for a wife, who, nothing discouraged by these reports of Katharine’s temper, and hearing she was rich and handsome, resolved upon marrying and taming her into an obedient and manageable wife.
Petruchio, first of all, applied to her father for leave to court his gentle daughter.
“You knew my father,” he said to Baptista, “He has left me heir to all his lands and goods. Tell me, if I get your daughter’s love, what sort of money-gift 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 and half his estate at his death. So this odd match was quickly agreed on and Baptista went to inform his rude daughter of her lover’s addresses, and sent her in to Petruchio to listen to his suit.
Now the stately Katharine entered, and Petruchio first addressed her with, “Good morning, 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.”
And thus 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, her father came.
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.
Ignoring her complaints, Petruchio said, “Give me your hand and kiss me, Kate, for we will be married on Sunday.”
And so it was.
On the Sunday all the wedding guests were assembled, but they waited long before Petruchio came. When he finally did come, he was seen wearing rather dirty, disordered clothes.He refused to change and insisted on beginning the ceremony,throughout which, he stamped and swore so that the high-spirited Katharine trembled and shook with fear.
Never sure was there such a mad marriage; but Petruchio did but put this wildness on the better to succeed in the plot he had formed to tame his wife.
The ceremony over, Petruchio placed his wife upon a miserable horse, which he had picked out for the purpose, and, immediately took her away to his home, despite the large banquet that awaited them at Baptista’s home.
At length, they arrived at his house. Petruchio welcomed his wife kindly to her home, but he resolved she should have neither rest nor food that night. When dinner was served, he complained that it was badly prepared and had it taken away. When Katharine attempted to go to bed, he, likewise, complained that the bedding was not good enough for her and had it all removed.
The next day Petruchio pursued the same course, still speaking kind words to Katharine all the while. However, late in the day, he brought her a small portion of meat , saying he had prepared it himself.
When Katharine went to take it from him, he placed the plate behind his back, saying, “The poorest service is repaid with thanks, and so shall mine before you touch the meat.”
On this Katharine brought out a reluctant “I thank you, sir.”
And now he suffered her to make a slender meal, saying,“And now, my honey love, when you have finished eating, we will return to your father’s house and celebrate with silken coats and caps and golden rings.” And to make her believe he really intended to give her these gay things, he called in a clothes merchant.
The merchant presented Katharine with a number of articles of clothing, but Petruchio made a wild angry show of his dissatisfaction, refusing to purchase even one item. Katharine,picking out a pretty hat, said, “I will have this; all gentlewomen wear such caps as these.”
“When you are gentle,” replied Petruchio, “you shall have one, too, and not till then.”
The meat Katharine had eaten had a little revived her fallen spirits, and she said, “I am no child. I like the hat, and I will have this hat or none.”
“Let’s see the gown,” said Petruchio, ignoring her.
The merchant then came forward and showed her a fine gown he had made for her. Petruchio, whose intent was that she should have neither hat nor gown, found as much fault with the gown as he had with the hat. Katharine, however, loved the gown; but before she could try it on, Petruchio drove the merchant out of his home.
The merchant gone, Petruchio turned to his wife and said, “Well, come, my Kate, we will go to your father’s even in these mean garments we now wear.”
And then he ordered his horses, affirming they should reach Baptista’s house by dinner time , for it was but seven o’clock in the morning. Now when he spoke this, it was not early morning,but the very middle of the day; therefore Katharine said, “Sir, it is two o’clock, and will be suppertime before we get there.”
But Petruchio meant that she should be so completely subdued that she should agree to everything he said before he carried her to her father; and therefore, he suddenly changed course.
“I will not go today,” he said, “and when I go, it shall be what o’clock I say it is.”
Another day Katharine was forced to practice her newly found obedience, and not till he had brought her proud spirit to such a perfect subjection that she dared not remember there was such a word as contradiction would Petruchio allow her to go to her father’s house.
Finally, they set out to pay Baptista a visit. On the way,however, Petruchio tested his wife’s obedience. He addressed an old gentleman they met on the road as if he had been a young woman, saying to him, “Good morning, gentle mistress,” and asked Katharine if she had ever seen a fairer gentlewoman.
The now completely defeated Katharine quickly adopted her husband’s opinion, saying to the old gentleman, “Young budding virgin, you are fair and fresh and sweet.”
“Why, goodness me, Kate,” Petruchio cried, “I hope you are not mad. This is a man, old and wrinkled, and not a maiden,as you say he is.”
On this Katharine said, “Pardon me, old gentleman; the sun has so dazzled my eyes that everything I look on seems green.”
“May I ask your name, sir?” asked Petruchio.
The old gentleman replied, “My name is Vincentio, and I am going to visit a son of mine who lives at Padua.”
Then Petruchio knew the old gentleman to be the father of Lucentio, a young gentleman who was to be married to Baptista’s younger daughter, Bianca. They all then journeyed on pleasantly together till they came to Baptista’s house, where there was a large company assembled to celebrate the wedding of Bianca and Lucentio.
When they entered, Baptista welcomed them to the wedding feast, and there was present also another newly married pair.
Lucentio, Bianca’s husband, and Hortensio, the other newly-married man, highly pleased with the mild tempers of the ladies they had chosen, laughed at Petruchio for his less fortunate choice of wife. Petruchio took little notice of their jokes till the ladies were retired after dinner, and then he perceived Baptista himself joined in the laugh against him,especially when Petruchio affirmed that his wife would prove more obedient than theirs.
“Let us each send for his wife,” said Petruchio, “and he whose wife comes first shall win a bet which we will propose.”
To this the other two husbands willingly consented, and they proposed a bet of twenty crowns. But Petruchio insisted on one hundred crowns. The two bridegrooms happily agreed,and Lucentio was the first to send for his wife, Bianca. But the servant returned, and said, “Sir, my mistress sends you word she is busy and cannot come.”
Everyone laughed at Lucentio, but still it was generally believed that Katharine would fair even worse. And now it was Hortensio’s turn to send for his wife.
Presently, this civil husband looked a little blank when the servant he had sent returned without his mistress.
“Sir,” said the servant, “my mistress says you have some joke in hand, and therefore she will not come. She bids you come to her.”
“Worse and worse!” said Petruchio. And then he sent his servant for Katharine.
The company had scarcely time to think she would not obey this summons when Baptista, all in amaze, exclaimed,“Here comes Katharine!”
And she entered, saying obediently to Petruchio, “What is your will, sir, that you send for me?”
“Where is your sister and Hortensio’s wife?” said he.
Katharine replied, “They sit conferring by the parlor fire.”
“Go, fetch them here!” said Petruchio.
Away Katharine went, soon returning with the two new brides at her side.
“And so it is,” said Hortensio. “I marvel what it foretells.”
“Merry peace it foretells,” said Petruchio, “and love, and quiet life; and, to be short, everything that is sweet and happy.”
Katharine’s father, overjoyed to see this reformation in his daughter, said, “Son Petruchio! You have won the bet, and I will add another twenty thousand crowns as a gift to her, as if she were another daughter, for she is changed as if she had never been.”
And Katharine once more became famous in Padua, not as Katharine the Shrew, but as Katharine the most obedient wife in Padua.
venture /ˈventʃə/ vt. 冒……的危险;敢于;敢做
resolve /rɪˈzɒlv/ vi. 决心;做出决定
crown /kraʊn/ n. 克朗,古代一些欧洲国家的货币单位名称
salutation /ˌsæljʊˈteɪʃən/ n. 称呼;问候
justly / ˈdʒʌstlɪ/ adv. 理所应当地
never sure =never so 前所未有地
miserable /ˈmɪzərəbl/ adj . 悲惨的;可怜的
meat /mi:t/ n. 食物;肉,肉类
slender /slendə/ adj . 微薄的;微少的
revive /rɪˈvaɪv/ vt. 使恢复精力
dinner time /ˈdɪnətaɪm/ n. 正餐时间
subdue /səbˈdju:/ vt. 制服
perfect /ˈpɜ:fɪkt/ adj . 绝对的;完全的
dazzle /ˈdæzl/ vt. 使目眩
company /ˈkʌmpənɪ/ n. 客人;同伴
reformation /ˌrefəˈmeɪʃən/ n. 革新;改善