The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Уильям Шекспир

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">       Clock to itself, knew the true minute when

       Exception bid him speak, and at this time

       His tongue obey’d his hand: who were below him

       He us’d as creatures of another place;

       And bow’d his eminent top to their low ranks,

       Making them proud of his humility,

       In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man

       Might be a copy to these younger times;

       Which, follow’d well, would demonstrate them now

       But goers backward.

       BERTRAM.

       His good remembrance, sir,

       Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;

       So in approof lives not his epitaph

       As in your royal speech.

       KING.

       Would I were with him! He would always say,—

       Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words

       He scatter’d not in ears, but grafted them

       To grow there, and to bear,—‘Let me not live,’—

       This his good melancholy oft began,

       On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,

       When it was out,—‘Let me not live’ quoth he,

       ‘After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff

       Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses

       All but new things disdain; whose judgments are

       Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies

       Expire before their fashions:’—This he wish’d:

       I, after him, do after him wish too,

       Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,

       I quickly were dissolved from my hive,

       To give some labourers room.

       SECOND LORD.

       You’re lov’d, sir;

       They that least lend it you shall lack you first.

       KING.

       I fill a place, I know’t.—How long is’t, Count,

       Since the physician at your father’s died?

       He was much fam’d.

       BERTRAM.

       Some six months since, my lord.

       KING.

       If he were living, I would try him yet;—

       Lend me an arm;—the rest have worn me out

       With several applications:—nature and sickness

       Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count;

       My son’s no dearer.

       BERTRAM.

       Thank your majesty.

       [Exeunt. Flourish.]

      SCENE 3. Rousillon. A Room in the Palace.

       [Enter COUNTESS, STEWARD, and CLOWN.]

       COUNTESS.

       I will now hear: what say you of this gentlewoman?

       STEWARD. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past endeavours; for then we wound our modesty, and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.

       COUNTESS. What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: the complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; ‘tis my slowness that I do not; for I know you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.

       CLOWN.

       ‘Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.

       COUNTESS.

       Well, sir.

       CLOWN. No, madam, ‘tis not so well that I am poor, though many of the rich are damned: but if I may have your ladyship’s good will to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I will do as we may.

       COUNTESS.

       Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

       CLOWN.

       I do beg your good will in this case.

       COUNTESS.

       In what case?

       CLOWN. In Isbel’s case and mine own. Service is no heritage: and I think I shall never have the blessing of God till I have issue of my body; for they say bairns are blessings.

       COUNTESS.

       Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.

       CLOWN. My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.

       COUNTESS.

       Is this all your worship’s reason?

       CLOWN.

       Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are.

       COUNTESS.

       May the world know them?

       CLOWN. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry that I may repent.

       COUNTESS.

       Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.

       CLOWN. I am out of friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife’s sake.

       COUNTESS.

       Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

       CLOWN. Y’are shallow, madam, in great friends: for the knaves come to do that for me which I am a-weary of. He that ears my land spares my team, and gives me leave to in the crop: if I be his cuckold, he’s my drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood is my friend; ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the papist, howsome’er their hearts are severed in religion, СКАЧАТЬ