TWELFTH NIGHT. Уильям Шекспир

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       Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.

       But for thee, fellow,— fellow, thy words are madness;

       Three months this youth hath tended upon me;

       But more of that anon. Take him aside.

       OLIVIA.

       What would my lord, but that he may not have,

       Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?

       Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

       VIOLA.

       Madam!

       DUKE.

       Gracious Olivia,—

       OLIVIA.

       What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,—

       VIOLA.

       My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.

       OLIVIA.

       If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,

       It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear

       As howling after music.

       DUKE.

       Still so cruel?

       OLIVIA.

       Still so constant, lord.

       DUKE.

       What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,

       To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

       My soul the faithfull’st off’rings have breath’d out

       That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do?

       OLIVIA.

       Even what it please my lord that shall become him.

       DUKE.

       Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,

       Like to th’ Egyptian thief at point of death,

       Kill what I love?— a savage jealousy

       That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:

       Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,

       And that I partly know the instrument

       That screws me from my true place in your favour,

       Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;

       But this your minion, whom I know you love,

       And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,

       Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,

       Where he sits crowned in his master’s spite.

       Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief;

       I ‘ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,

       To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.

       VIOLA.

       And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,

       To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

       OLIVIA.

       Where goes Cesario?

       VIOLA.

       After him I love

       More than I love these eyes, more than my life,

       More, by all mores, than ere I shall love wife.

       If I do feign, you witnesses above,

       Punish my life for tainting of my love!

       OLIVIA.

       Ay me, detested! how am I beguil’d!

       VIOLA.

       Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

       OLIVIA.

       Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?

       Call forth the holy father.

       DUKE.

       Come, away!

       OLIVIA.

       Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.

       DUKE.

       Husband!

       OLIVIA.

       Ay, husband! can he that deny?

       DUKE.

       Her husband, sirrah!

       VIOLA.

       No, my lord, not I.

       OLIVIA.

       Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear

       That makes thee strangle thy propriety.

       Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;

       Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art

       As great as that thou fear’st.

       [Enter PRIEST.]

       O, welcome, father!

       Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,

       Here to unfold, though lately we intended

       To keep in darkness what occasion now

       Reveals before ‘t is ripe, what thou dost know

       Hath newly pass’d between this youth and me.

       PRIEST.

       A contract of eternal bond of love,

       Confirm’d by mutual joinder of your hands,

       Attested by the holy close of lips,

       Strengthen’d by interchangement of your rings;

       And all the ceremony of this compact

       Seal’d in my function, by my testimony;

       Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave

       I have travell’d but two hours.

       DUKE.

       O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be

       When СКАЧАТЬ