The Shakespeare Story-Book. Уильям Шекспир

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СКАЧАТЬ in love; and such a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife, and now he had rather hear the tabor and the pipe. I have known when he would have walked ten miles on foot to see a good armour, and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. Shall I ever be so converted, and see with those eyes? I cannot tell. I think not. I will not be sworn that love may not transform me to an oyster, but I’ll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be – that’s certain; wise and virtuous, or I’ll have none of her; fair, or I’ll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair – her hair shall be of what colour it pleases God… Ha! the Prince and Monsieur Love. I will hide me in the arbour.”

      And Benedick hastily concealed himself, as Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato approached, followed by some musicians.

      “Come, shall we hear this music?” said Don Pedro, seating himself on a bench within earshot of the arbour. “See you where Benedick has hidden himself?” he added in a low voice.

      “Oh, very well, my lord,” answered Claudio. “When the music is ended, we will give him something to think about.”

      “Come, Balthasar, we’ll hear that song again,” said Don Pedro.

      So the musicians lightly touched the strings of their instruments, and Balthasar began his song:

      “Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

      Men were deceivers ever,

      One foot in sea, and one on shore,

      To one thing constant never:

      Then sigh not so, but let them go,

      And be you blithe and bonny,

      Converting all your sounds of woe

      Into Hey nonny, nonny!

      “Sing no more ditties, sing no more,

      Of dumps so dull and heavy;

      The fraud of man was ever so,

      Since summer first was leafy:

      Then sigh not so, but let them go,

      And be you blithe and bonny,

      Converting all your sounds of woe

      Into Hey nonny, nonny!”

      “By my troth, a good song!” said the Prince. “Balthasar, I pray you get us some excellent music, for to-morrow night we would have it at the lady Hero’s chamber-window.”

      “The best I can, my lord.”

      “Do so; farewell… Come hither, Leonato,” said Don Pedro, when the young musician had retired. “What was it that you told me of to-day – that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signor Benedick?”

      “Go on,” whispered Claudio. “We shall catch our bird. I did never think that lady would have loved any man,” he added aloud, for Benedick’s benefit.

      “No, nor I neither,” said Leonato; “but it is most wonderful that she should so doat on Signor Benedick, whom she has in all outward behaviour always seemed to abhor.”

      “Is it possible? Sits the wind in that corner?” murmured the astonished Benedick in his hiding-place.

      “By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it, but that she loves him frantically,” continued Leonato. “It is past the bounds of belief.”

      “Has she made her affection known to Benedick?” asked Don Pedro.

      “No, and swears she never will; that is the cause of her unhappiness.”

      “’Tis true indeed,” put in Claudio. “‘Shall I,’ says she, ‘that have so often encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?’”

      “‘I measure him by my own spirit,’ she says,” continued Leonato, “‘for I should flout him if he wrote to me – yea, though I love him, I should.’”

      “And then she weeps and sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair,” said Claudio.

      “My daughter is sometimes afraid she will do a desperate outrage to herself,” said Leonato.

      “It were good if Benedick knew it from someone else, if she will not reveal it,” said Don Pedro.

      “To what end?” asked Claudio. “He would make but a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse.”

      “If he did it would be a charity to hang him,” said Don Pedro indignantly. “She is an excellent, sweet lady.”

      “And she is exceedingly wise,” put in Claudio.

      “In everything but in loving Benedick,” said Don Pedro.

      “Oh, my lord, I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian,” said Leonato.

      “I would she had bestowed this affection on me,” said Don Pedro. “I would marry her at once. Well, Leonato, I am sorry for your niece. I pray you tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will say.”

      “Never tell him, my lord,” said Claudio. “Let her wear out her affection with good counsel.”

      “Nay, that’s impossible,” said Leonato; “she may wear her heart out first.”

      “Well, we will hear further of it from your daughter,” said Don Pedro. “I love Benedick well, and I could wish he would modestly examine himself to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady.”

      “My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready,” said Leonato.

      “If he do not doat on her after this, I will never trust my expectation,” laughed Claudio, as the conspirators withdrew.

      “Let there be the same net spread for Beatrice,” said Don Pedro, “and that your daughter and her gentlewomen must carry out. The sport will be when they each believe in the other’s doating, when there is no such matter; that’s the scene I should like to see… Let us send her to call him in to dinner.”

      When the others had gone, Benedick came forth from his hiding-place, deeply impressed with what he had heard.

      “Poor lady!” he thought. “So she really loves me! Well, her affection must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say I will bear myself proudly if I see the love come from her. They say, too, she will rather die than give any sign of affection… I never thought to marry… I must not seem proud. Happy are those that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair; ’tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous; it is so. And wise; but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit, and no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance to have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage; but does not a man’s opinion alter?.. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I was married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she is a fair lady! I do spy some marks of love in her.”

      Quite unconscious of all that СКАЧАТЬ