Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет. Уильям Шекспир

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      Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death

      The memory be green, and that it us befitted

      To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole

                               kingdom

      To be contracted in one brow of woe;

      Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature

      That we with wisest sorrow think on him,

      Together with remembrance of ourselves.

      Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

      Th'imperial jointress to this warlike state,

      Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,

      With one auspicious and one dropping eye,

      With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in

                               marriage,

      In equal scale weighing delight and dole,

      Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'd

      Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

      With this affair along. For all, our thanks.

      Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras,

      Holding a weak supposal of our worth,

      Or thinking by our late dear brother's death

      Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,

      Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,

      He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,

      Importing the surrender of those lands

      Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,

      To our most valiant brother. So much for him.

      Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:

      Thus much the business is: we have here writ

      To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

      Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears

      Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress

      His further gait herein; in that the levies,

      The lists, and full proportions are all made

      Out of his subject: and we here dispatch

      You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,

      For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

      Giving to you no further personal power

      To business with the King, more than the scope

      Of these dilated articles allow.

      Farewell; and let your haste commend your

                               duty.

      In that, and all things, will we show our duty.

      We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.

      [Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius]

      And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?

      You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?

      You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,

      And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg,

                               Laertes,

      That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

      The head is not more native to the heart,

      The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

      Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

      What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

      Dread my lord,

      Your leave and favour to return to France,

      From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

      To show my duty in your coronation;

      Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

      My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,

      And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

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