TROILUS & CRESSIDA. William Shakespeare
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Название: TROILUS & CRESSIDA

Автор: William Shakespeare

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 9788027234189

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ him off. Fate, hear me what I say:

       I reck not though thou end my life to-day.

       [Exit.]

       [Enter one in armour.]

       HECTOR.

       Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark.

       No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;

       I’ll frush it and unlock the rivets all

       But I’ll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide?

       Why then, fly on; I’ll hunt thee for thy hide.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE 7. Another part of the plain

       [Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons.]

       ACHILLES.

       Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;

       Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel;

       Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;

       And when I have the bloody Hector found,

       Empale him with your weapons round about;

       In fellest manner execute your aims.

       Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.

       It is decreed Hector the great must die.

       [Exeunt.]

       [Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting; then THERSITES.]

       THERSITES.

       The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull!

       now, dog! ‘Loo, Paris, ‘loo! now my double-henned sparrow! ‘loo,

       Paris, ‘loo! The bull has the game. ‘Ware horns, ho!

       [Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS.]

       [Enter MARGARELON.]

       MARGARELON.

       Turn, slave, and fight.

       THERSITES.

       What art thou?

       MARGARELON.

       A bastard son of Priam’s.

       THERSITES. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel’s most ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment. Farewell, bastard.

       [Exit.]

       MARGARELON.

       The devil take thee, coward!

       [Exit.]

      SCENE 8. Another part of the plain

       [Enter HECTOR.]

       HECTOR.

       Most putrified core so fair without,

       Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.

       Now is my day’s work done; I’ll take good breath:

       Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!

       [Disarms.]

       [Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons.]

       ACHILLES.

       Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

       How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;

       Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun,

       To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.

       HECTOR.

       I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek.

       ACHILLES.

       Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.

       [HECTOR falls.]

       So, Ilion, fall thou next! Now, Troy, sink down;

       Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.

       On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain

       ‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’

       [A retreat sounded.]

       Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.

       MYRMIDON.

       The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.

       ACHILLES.

       The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth

       And, stickler-like, the armies separates.

       My half-supp’d sword, that frankly would have fed,

       Pleas’d with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.

       [Sheathes his sword.]

       Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail;

       Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE 9. Another part of the plain

       [Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR,

       DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching.]

       AGAMEMNON.

       Hark! hark! what shout is this?

       NESTOR.

       Peace, drums!

       SOLDIERS.

       [Within.] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain. Achilles!

       DIOMEDES.

       The bruit is Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.

       AJAX.

       If it be so, yet bragless let it be;

       Great Hector was as good a man as he.

       AGAMEMNON.

       March patiently along. Let one be sent

       To pray Achilles see us at our tent.

       СКАЧАТЬ