The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Уильям Шекспир

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СКАЧАТЬ this, when the solemnity is past. But have you a full promise of her? When that shall be seene, I tender my consent.

       [Enter Daughter.]

       WOOER.

       I have Sir; here shee comes.

       IAILOR.

       Your Friend and I have chanced to name you here, upon the old busines: But no more of that now; so soone as the Court hurry is over, we will have an end of it: I’th meane time looke tenderly to the two Prisoners. I can tell you they are princes.

       DAUGHTER.

       These strewings are for their Chamber; tis pitty they are in prison, and twer pitty they should be out: I doe thinke they have patience to make any adversity asham’d; the prison it selfe is proud of ‘em; and they have all the world in their Chamber.

       IAILOR.

       They are fam’d to be a paire of absolute men.

       DAUGHTER.

       By my troth, I think Fame but stammers ‘em; they stand a greise above the reach of report.

       IAILOR.

       I heard them reported in the Battaile to be the only doers.

       DAUGHTER.

       Nay, most likely, for they are noble suffrers; I mervaile how they would have lookd had they beene Victors, that with such a constant Nobility enforce a freedome out of Bondage, making misery their Mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at.

       IAILOR.

       Doe they so?

       DAUGHTER.

       It seemes to me they have no more sence of their Captivity, then I of ruling Athens: they eate well, looke merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of their owne restraint, and disasters: yet sometime a devided sigh, martyrd as ‘twer i’th deliverance, will breake from one of them; when the other presently gives it so sweete a rebuke, that I could wish my selfe a Sigh to be so chid, or at least a Sigher to be comforted.

       WOOER.

       I never saw ‘em.

       IAILOR.

       The Duke himselfe came privately in the night,

       [Enter Palamon, and Arcite, above.]

       and so did they: what the reason of it is, I know not: Looke, yonder they are! that’s Arcite lookes out.

       DAUGHTER.

       No, Sir, no, that’s Palamon: Arcite is the lower of the twaine; you may perceive a part of him.

       IAILOR.

       Goe too, leave your pointing; they would not make us their object; out of their sight.

       DAUGHTER.

       It is a holliday to looke on them: Lord, the diffrence of men!

       [Exeunt.]

      Scaena 2. (The prison)

       [Enter Palamon, and Arcite in prison.]

       PALAMON.

       How doe you, Noble Cosen?

       ARCITE.

       How doe you, Sir?

       PALAMON.

       Why strong inough to laugh at misery,

       And beare the chance of warre, yet we are prisoners,

       I feare, for ever, Cosen.

       ARCITE.

       I beleeve it,

       And to that destiny have patiently

       Laide up my houre to come.

       PALAMON.

       O Cosen Arcite,

       Where is Thebs now? where is our noble Country?

       Where are our friends, and kindreds? never more

       Must we behold those comforts, never see

       The hardy youthes strive for the Games of honour

       (Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies,

       Like tall Ships under saile) then start among’st ‘em

       And as an Eastwind leave ‘en all behinde us,

       Like lazy Clowdes, whilst Palamon and Arcite,

       Even in the wagging of a wanton leg

       Out-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands,

       Ere they have time to wish ‘em ours. O never

       Shall we two exercise, like Twyns of honour,

       Our Armes againe, and feele our fyry horses

       Like proud Seas under us: our good Swords now

       (Better the red-eyd god of war nev’r wore)

       Ravishd our sides, like age must run to rust,

       And decke the Temples of those gods that hate us:

       These hands shall never draw’em out like lightning,

       To blast whole Armies more.

       ARCITE.

       No, Palamon,

       Those hopes are Prisoners with us; here we are

       And here the graces of our youthes must wither

       Like a too-timely Spring; here age must finde us,

       And, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried;

       The sweete embraces of a loving wife,

       Loden with kisses, armd with thousand Cupids

       Shall never claspe our neckes, no issue know us,

       No figures of our selves shall we ev’r see,

       To glad our age, and like young Eagles teach ‘em

       Boldly to gaze against bright armes, and say:

       ‘Remember what your fathers were, and conquer.’

       The faire-eyd Maides, shall weepe our Banishments,

       And in their Songs, curse ever-blinded fortune,

       Till shee for shame see what a wrong she has done

       To youth and nature. This is all our world;

       СКАЧАТЬ